#the mental exhaustion is biting me on the ass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebunnednun · 4 months ago

Text

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

Summary: Life is shit and Katsuki finds out you lied to him about taking care of yourself.

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

I wrote this for my friend @elarakive, she's been going through it so please give her some love y'all.

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

“I should’ve become a stripper in Miami.”

You staggered into your apartment, your body and mind exhausted from the endless cycle of school and work. The clock ticked mercilessly as you rushed to grab your work bag and change. Your commute home took about 20 minutes today, and there was barely enough time to catch your breath, let alone eat.

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes quickly before rushing into your small, cluttered room, your shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. The relentless cycle of school and work had left you in a mental fog, and the ticking clock seemed to mock your frantic rush. You had barely an hour to spare before your next shift, and the minutes slipped through your fingers like sand.

With trembling hands, you fumbled through your work bag, grabbing the essentials as you hurriedly changed into your work uniform. The sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror was a stark reminder of how far gone you were—dark circles under your eyes, hair a disheveled mess, and a look of defeat that you couldn’t quite hide.

‘Fuck it, we ball with the consealer today.’

Rushing to the bathroom, you hurriedly adjusted your makeup in the bathroom mirror, the smudged eyeliner and messy foundation reflecting the chaos of your life. Every moment felt like a race against time as you dabbed concealer under your eyes, trying to mask the fatigue that had become your constant companion.

You had to look good while in class. You have to look good at work so you can make those big bucks to pay for things that ultimately make you feel sick everytime you think about it. Like your rent, the car, the utilities, tuition payments, groceries, laundry supplies, toiletpaper, pads/tampons. Also Tynolonal because your little dehydrated ass kept getting migraines that you ironically didn’t take because you still wanted a working liver.

In the midst of your chaotic routine, your phone buzzed with a notification: an unexpected double shift for the week. Your heart sank as you read the message. When you finally got a weekend off, it was swallowed up by studying, cleaning, and chores. Sleep was becoming a rare luxury, and your mental fog seemed to thicken with each passing day.

At work, the pressure has been relentless. Your manager's latest demand to pull full shifts this week felt like the last straw. As you stared at your schedule, the weight of it all crashed down on you. You wanted to cry, but you couldn't afford to break down—not with your job hanging in the balance. The only time you had to eat was during your brief lunch break at work, which you barely managed to find time for.

It felt like there was no end to the mounting responsibilities, and the weekend you’d managed to carve out for yourself was swallowed up by endless studying, chores, and barely enough sleep to keep you functional.

In the cramped kitchen, you grabbed a quick bite, your meal consisting of whatever was quickest to prepare. (A literal slice of bread.) The clock continued its relentless ticking, and you knew you were cutting it close. The idea of collapsing into bed, even for just a moment, was a sinfully tempting dream.

As you raced to gather your things, your mind was a jumble of deadlines and schedules. You barely noticed when your cell rang with its familiar “Kiss me through the phone!�� ringtone to indicate that your boyfriend was calling.

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡 is calling…..’

Heart fluttering, you nearly dropped the concealer wand on your blank uniform polo to snatch your phone off the counter and hit answer.

“Damn it, what’s going on with you?” Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze of your stress, his usual bravado softened by genuine worry as the video connected.

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

You paused, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze. “Just… busy,” you managed to say, trying to muster a weak smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “This ain’t just busy. You’re running yourself ragged. What the hell are ya doing to yourself?”

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the phone and tucked it into the front of your bra, the slight pressure reminding you that you needed to hurry. Balancing your phone precariously, you snatched up your work bag and keys, your hands clumsy with the rush. Your fingers were already cold from the constant running around, and you fought the urge to drop everything as you made your way to the car.

The engine roared to life as you slid into the driver’s seat and connected your phone to the Bluetooth system. Katsuki’s voice crackled through the speakers, a gruff but familiar comfort amidst the car noises.

“Hey, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you replied, blowing a raspberry into the phone. The sound was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you could almost hear Katsuki’s brow raise as he responded.

“You sound outta breath. What’s the deal?”

You chuckled softly, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Just the usual,” you said, your eyes darting between the road and the clock on the dashboard. “Running late, trying to get everything done. It’s been a mess.”

Katsuki’s voice grew more insistent. “Are ya eating properly? Getting enough sleep? You know, ya need to take care of yourself.”

You huffed, trying to focus on the road while keeping up with the conversation. “I’m eating, sleep is a luxury right now. I’m managing, Katsuki.”

His voice softened, though it still carried an edge of concern. “That’s not an answer, you know. You sound like you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out.”

You adjusted the car’s air conditioning, the cool breeze a slight relief against the heat of your exhaustion. “I’m fine. Just got a lot on my plate. You know how it is.”

“Well, if you say so,” Katsuki said, though the worry in his tone was evident. “Just make sure you’re not running on empty. I want to see you in one piece when I get back.”

The call ended as you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace. You felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside as you grabbed your work bag and keys, the day ahead looming large.

“I’m in the parking lot. So I’ll call you when I get out, okay?”

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

You blew a smooch into the phone and quickly hung up before you could cry. It’s not like you wanted to lie to Katsuki. Your boyfriend was THE human lie detector and hated liars. But you also didn’t want to worry him while he was out on missions. But alas, those were all thoughts for later as you gently turned off the car and put your game face on before getting out the car and making your way towards the building.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Your shift at work was as rough as you’d anticipated. Your manager was insistent about you picking up extra hours, their voice rising in frustration over minor issues. Customers were grumpy, complaints frequent, and the constant flow of tasks left you feeling drained.

The office felt like a maze of gray cubicles and muted tones, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. As you sat at your desk, the familiar clutter of technical documents and graphic layouts surrounded you. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of printer ink. You rubbed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips as you pushed through another round of proofreading.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you fumbled to pull it from your drawer, glancing at the screen to see a message from Masha in HR. It was a reminder about the formal complaint you needed to submit to get your overdue salary processed. You frowned, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

“Another thing to deal with,” you muttered, tapping out a quick response before setting the phone aside. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, drafting the formal complaint with a precision that belied your growing exhaustion. Every keystroke felt like an effort, each sentence a struggle to convey the frustration and urgency of your situation.

The clock ticked slowly, its rhythmic ticking amplifying the silence of the office as colleagues murmured and typed away in their own bubbles. You glanced at the pile of papers on your desk—technical documents, project briefs, and some rough sketches for graphics that you’d been tasked with. The contrast between your university days, filled with creative media projects and dynamic video production, and this monotonous office job was striking.

You missed the excitement of storytelling and visual creation, but here you were, grinding away for the paycheck that barely seemed worth the effort right now.

Rent was due next week, and the thought of it gnawed at your mind. You tapped your pen nervously against the desk, trying to suppress the mounting anxiety. Your minimal savings were earmarked for tuition, and borrowing money from anyone, let alone Katsuki, was not an option you wanted to consider. The last thing you needed was for him to find out and make a fuss about it, turning your personal financial troubles into a point of contention.

As you took a deep breath and hit ‘send’ on the formal complaint, the stress of the past few weeks seemed to coalesce into a single, throbbing headache. Your hands were trembling slightly as you reached for the small, lukewarm cup of coffee on your desk, the caffeine offering a temporary, hollow comfort.

“Hey, can you cover this layout for me?” your colleague, Jenna, asked as she leaned over your cubicle wall. Her voice was chipper, a sharp contrast to the mental fog you were drowning in.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile as you accepted the additional task. Your mind drifted to the weekend, a distant hope of relaxation and a momentary escape from the whirlwind of deadlines and obligations. But even that felt out of reach as you buried yourself in work, hoping that somewhere amidst the chaos, a solution would present itself.

The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock a relentless reminder of how quickly time was slipping away. As the workday dragged on, your thoughts constantly circled back to your financial situation and how you might manage to cover rent without dipping into your savings or burdening anyone else. The weight of it all felt almost unbearable, and you silently wished for a moment of reprieve.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Finally, with mercy, your shift finally ended, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by exhaustion. You shuffled out of the office, your steps heavy and laden with fatigue.

The breakroom coffee you’d chugged was doing its best to keep you awake, but the jolt of caffeine did little to ease the sleepy buzz that had settled over you.

Your drive home was a blur, punctuated only by the occasional beep of your car’s dashboard and the monotonous hum of the engine. When you finally pulled into your parking spot, a sense of dread washed over you as you fished out your phone to check the latest update on your pay. The notification confirmed what you feared: your salary wouldn’t be processed for another week.

A gasp of frustration and disbelief escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space of your car. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel, barely containing the urge to scream. The crushing weight of bills, looming deadlines, and the crushing reality of your financial situation finally broke through your walls of composure. Tears sprang to your eyes, spilling over as you let the frustration and sadness flow freely.

The emotional release was almost too much to bear, and as the tears flowed, the inside of your car’s windows fogged up, the steamy haze blurring your vision. You cracked the windows slightly, hoping to let some of the oppressive heat and steam escape.

As the cool air started to seep in, you caught sight of Katsuki’s footprints on your windshield—evidence of the time he’d spent with his dogs on your dashboard, walking them around while you were driving. The sight of his footprint, a tangible reminder of his absence, made your heart ache even more.

The memory of him removing his footing while you had been driving around, convinced you’d seen a turtle on the side of the road, flashed through your mind.

Turns out it was a really moldy round rock and while you wanted to keep it, Katsuki made you leave the so-called “turtle,” which he’d dismissed as a weird rock, insisting it might be cursed and, “I don’t fuck with no spooky shit.” The thought of his spiky but playful protective nature contrasted sharply with the weight of your current situation.

Your mascara had bled and smeared, leaving dark streaks on your cheeks. You fumbled for tissues in the glove compartment—another thoughtful gift from Katsuki. With shaking hands, you dabbed at your face, trying to clean up the smudged makeup and regain some semblance of composure.

But fuck the tissues because you wanted Katuski to wipe your tears, not Puffs with lotion.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your work bag and keys from the passenger seat. Despite the fact that you had no classes tomorrow—a silver lining provided by Mrs. Yamada’s decision to cancel due to the pleasant weather—you felt an emotional heaviness. You forced yourself to get out of the car, each step toward the building feeling like a mile.

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet, solitary journey. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing thoughts. When the elevator doors finally opened, you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, each footfall echoing your exhaustion and frustration.

You reached your door and, with a tired sigh, unlocked it and stepped inside. The familiar, quiet space of your apartment was both a refuge and a reminder of everything you were trying to manage. The world outside was still bustling, but here, in this small sanctuary, you could finally let down your guard.

Letting out another deep breath as you took in the comforting but humble surroundings. Your mind wandered to the weekend ahead, hoping for some respite and relaxation despite everything else. For now, you allowed yourself a moment to just be, to acknowledge the fucked up situation you were in and space out before you would have to be an active adult again.

You slid down against the door, exhaustion making every movement feel labored. The cool, hard floor felt oddly comforting against your back as you contemplated the idea of slipping off your shoes and socks and crawling straight into bed. Your tired eyes were barely open when an unexpected, tantalizing scent wafted through the air, making you blink in confusion.

The smell was warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cozy autumn walks you take with Katsuki. The memory of him lifting you onto his shoulders while you collected pinecones, playfully biting your ankles when you took “too long” to pick out your favorites, made you smile through your tears. The scent brought a fleeting sense of comfort, but the question of who had been in your apartment and left it smelling so fresh and pleasant nagged at the back of your mind.

You pushed yourself up, the weariness making your movements slow and deliberate. As you wandered further into your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disbelief. Your living space, which had been cluttered and messy, was now impeccably clean, as if it had been professionally cleaned. The familiar scent of pine and a hint of something else filled the air, wrapping around you like a warm, fragrant embrace.

Shaking off the disorientation, you followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen. Your eyes widened as you saw a pot of rice and another pot of rich, spicy beef and vegetable stew cooling on the stove. The sight was almost surreal—your kitchen, which had been a chaotic mess just hours before, was now a haven of culinary comfort. The thought of someone cooking for you, despite your exhaustion, brought a mix of relief and confusion.

‘What the fuck?!’

You blinked once, twice, harshly, trying to process the scene before you. With a mixture of curiosity and wariness, you padded softly back to the living room, hoping to make sense of the situation. The only light on was the soft glow of the lamp in the bathroom, casting a warm, clean light across the hallway and into your living room. The air was still, save for the faint sound of shuffling coming from your bedroom.

Heart racing, you moved toward the sound, each step slow and cautious. The clean scent from the bathroom lingered, and you couldn’t help but notice how fresh and tidy it now seemed. You glanced back at the living room, which, in contrast to your earlier mess, now looked immaculate and inviting.

Heart pounding, you crept down the hallway, each step slow and deliberate. The freshly cleaned scent in the air did nothing to ease your anxiety. The apartment was spotless—too spotless. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe Michael had come back early and done this as a surprise? Or maybe Shoto, Izuku, or Jirou had somehow managed to sneak in, tidy everything, and leave without telling you.

After all, only Michael, Kirishima, and Shoto or Izuku had keys to your place in case of emergencies.

But Katsuki? He was out of state. He wouldn’t be back for a while, and even if he had sent one of those cleaning services, they were always in and out in less than 30 minutes.

This... this wasn’t right.

Your gaze darted toward the door. The shuffling sound from your bedroom had stopped. Panic began to settle in, a rising tension that had you frozen on the spot. You considered calling for help, but your phone was still on the floor by your purse, forgotten in the rush of trying to figure out what was happening. You didn’t want to lose the element of surprise.

With a nervous breath, you reached for the flower vase sitting on the narrow hallway table. The roses inside were fresh, their deep crimson petals just beginning to open up. You mentally apologized to them as you dumped the flowers onto the floor, water splashing around the vase. Your hands moved swiftly, reaching inside for the TTI Glock 34 hidden beneath the stems. The cold metal felt heavier than usual in your hand, but you weren’t about to hesitate.

You weren’t going to die in your own apartment—not like this.

Holding your breath, you stalked closer to the bathroom. You could hear the faint echo of your heart beating in your ears. Quietly, with practiced precision, you closed the door behind you without letting it click, trapping the scent of cleanliness inside. There was no turning back now. The apartment had become unfamiliar, and whoever or whatever was in your room needed to be dealt with.

You crept toward the bedroom, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you got closer. The shifting sounds had stopped. Whoever it was, they were still inside. You crouched, gun in hand, every muscle tensed as you approached the door. Then, without warning, the door to your bedroom swung open with a loud

"BAM!"

The sound reverberated through the walls as darkness loomed before you. Instinct took over.

You fired two quick shots into the void, the deafening bangs ringing in your ears. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows, revealing nothing but an empty room. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into the stillness.

Silence.

"Fuck this!" you muttered under your breath, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

Without thinking twice, you bolted down the hallway. Your feet were heavy, thudding against the carpet as you ran, and the door to your apartment swung open behind you. You burst into the dimly lit hallway, the dingy orange carpet and faded yellow lighting never looking so welcoming. The familiar smell of old apartments and chipped paint wrapped around you as you sprinted toward the elevator.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs pumping as fast as they could. Most of your neighbors were either still at work or too old to have heard the gunshots, but there was no way you were sticking around to find out. You slapped the elevator button, glancing nervously back down the hallway.

You stood in front of the doors waiting, breathless and confused, waiting for the sound of footsteps or the telltale signs of someone chasing after you.

But… nothing.

The air was still, almost too still, and when you turned around, your heart pounding in your throat, you saw nothing. No one was following you. No shadowy figure, no intruder, no ominous movement at all.

Just you.

That rush of fear was starting to ebb away, replaced by an unsettling new sensation—doubt. Did you get them? The thought made your heart skip, but worse than that, another horrifying possibility crept in:

Did you kill someone?

Your stomach dropped as if you'd just fallen from a cliff. The idea of it—of accidentally shooting someone, maybe even someone who had no intention of hurting you—was almost too much to bear.

You pressed a shaky hand against the wall, your mind racing.

What would happen if it was true? What if you had killed someone in a panic? Your knees felt weak, and the edges of your vision blurred with panic.

‘What would happen to me? What would happen to Katsuki when they found out his girlfriend had killed someone? The girlfriend of the Number 2 Pro Hero, a murderer?’

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through you. You wanted to throw up right there in the hallway, but your stomach was so empty that all you could do was dry swallow, your mouth tasting like metal and dread. ‘What would the courts say? Would I go to jail? What would happen to Katsuki's career?’

Your thoughts spiraled, knotting together into an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down. The hallway around you blurred for a second, the dim, dingy orange carpet now looking stained—like it was soaked in blood. You blinked hard, shaking your head.

It was just the light, just your mind playing tricks on you. You forced yourself to look away from the carpet, your eyes trailing back to your apartment door. It was still ajar, spilling the warm, pale hallway light into the void of your dark apartment. The contrast was jarring—the safe, slightly worn familiarity of the hallway outside clashing with the pitch-black uncertainty inside your home.

Your home.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady yourself. ‘You couldn’t leave this unfinished. If you did accidentally kill someone, you’d have to take responsibility. You had to know.’ And if it was an intruder, then, well... that was another layer of mess you'd have to deal with.

But God, you were so done.

The exhaustion from the double shifts, the lack of sleep, the unpaid bills—it all weighed you down, made your legs feel like lead as you slowly moved forward. Maybe that's why you found yourself inching toward your open door instead of running away.

Maybe that's why, instead of thinking clearly, you fumbled with your purse, your fingers shaking as you dug through it to find your phone. Instead of flicking on the light switch by the door, you opened the flashlight app, shining its weak beam into the suffocating darkness of your apartment.

The soft glow from your phone barely penetrated the void, but it was enough to make out familiar shapes—the edge of your coffee table, the corner of the couch, the faint outline of your kitchen down the hall. It almost looked normal. Almost. But something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.

And then you felt it.

Before you could even process what was happening, something hot and large clamped down around your arm. A flash of pure, raw panic shot through you, freezing your blood in your veins. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you barely had time to let out a sharp, breathless gasp before another hand—bigger, stronger—covered your mouth, smothering any scream you could’ve made.

The force of it drove you backward, your body colliding with the floor as the figure pulled you into the apartment. The scent of clean linen and something warmer filled your senses, overpowering everything else. You thrashed instinctively, your pulse roaring in your ears, but the grip on you didn’t falter.

The hand around your mouth tightened, silencing you even as you tried to cry out.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of your phone, now flickering as it dropped from your hands onto the floor. Your gun—’Where the hell was your gun?!’

It was smacked outta your hand when the figure grabbed you, and now, it was probably somewhere in the apartment, out of reach.

“Stop fuckin’ squirming,” a low voice growled against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

The voice was familiar—so achingly familiar that your panic began to wane just enough for recognition to slip through the fog of fear. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his palm, the way his body radiated warmth even through the tension. You blinked hard, gasping into the hand that covered your mouth, your mind racing to catch up.

“Katsuki?” Your voice was muffled, barely audible against his skin.

His grip loosened a fraction, his palm sliding off your mouth just enough for you to catch a real breath. You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything.

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He didn’t release you right away, keeping you firmly against him, his hot breath still brushing against your ear. "The hell were you thinking? Firing like that in the dark? You could’ve fuckin’ shot me!"

You slumped against him, half in shock, half in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, your limbs still trembling, but the flood of relief that came with recognizing his voice nearly brought you to tears. He was here. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he was.

“I didn’t know it was you,” you rasped, your voice shaky as you fought to steady your breathing. “Why the hell are you sneaking around my apartment?! I thought I was gonna die!”

Katsuki’s deadpan expression barely shifted as he lifted you up and unceremoniously dropped you onto the sofa. The cushions sighed under your weight, but before you could even adjust yourself, he was already stalking across the room.

His broad back was tense, and the muscles of his arms flexed beneath his shirt as he moved with precision, a wolf-like focus in the way he carried himself.

"Okay, let’s start with this," he began, his tone rough and low, his eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder at you. “I'm glad you can defend yourself. If I was some regular asshole, I'd be dead for sure.”

You blinked at him, still in disbelief, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your heart was still pounding, your body still reeling from the shock, and yet here he was, as calm as ever. He flipped on the hallway light with a casual flick, casting a soft glow over the apartment.

“Stay,” he huffed, his voice gruff, as if you were some unruly puppy he needed to wrangle.

He moved toward the dining area, and you turned your head to follow his movements. You watched as his calloused fingers picked up your steel piece—your gun—from where it had fallen, handling it with ease.

There was no hesitation in the way he moved, no sign of the earlier chaos as he handled the weapon. It was like he had done this a thousand times before, like the situation was perfectly normal for him.

You craned your neck a little more, catching sight of him as he knelt to collect the discarded roses from the hallway floor. He carefully placed your gun back into the vase where you had originally stashed it, as if putting everything back in its proper order, like nothing had happened. His shadow moved fluidly across the walls as he did so, and the tension in the air didn’t lessen—if anything, it deepened.

And then, he turned back toward you, his face unreadable, but those vermillion eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto yours like a predator zeroing in on its prey. He didn’t say a word, not yet, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch.

The soft glow of the hallway light outlined his figure, casting sharp shadows on his jawline, the dim illumination making him look both softer and somehow more dangerous at the same time.

He stalked back over to you, each step deliberate, never once breaking eye contact. His eyes bored into yours, and you felt as though he could see through every layer of your confusion, your fear, and your relief. You tried to smile, to break the tension, but it felt weak under his unrelenting stare.

Katsuki finally stopped in front of you, his steps coming to a halt as he sat down on the coffee table across from you. The wood creaked slightly under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, his powerful body now looming closer, radiating heat and energy.

He was dressed down tonight—just a black skull t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Casual, relaxed, almost like he had been home for a quiet night in. Yet here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He had this way of making everything else disappear when he focused on you like that, making your breath catch in your throat.

He sat there, silent, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward, making him look even more intense. His face was unreadable, and yet there was an edge to it—something simmering just below the surface, just beneath those sharp, vermillion eyes that hadn’t left yours for a second.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under the weight of his gaze. “Uh, hey babe?” you said, your voice weak, barely above a whisper. You tried to giggle, to play it off like you weren’t utterly rattled, but the sound died awkwardly in your throat.

Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on you, not even a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, the muscle there clenching slightly.

He wasn’t buying it.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence between you stretched out, heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog settling in the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the hallway light and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there—him staring at you like you’d just committed the ultimate offense, and you shrinking under the weight of it. His gaze didn’t waver, not even once, and you could feel the intensity of his thoughts even if he wasn’t saying a word.

Your hands fidgeted in your lap, fingers twisting together as the nerves bubbled up inside you.

“Katsuki, I—” you started, but the words trailed off, your voice faltering under the scrutiny.

Katuski considers you carefully for a moment, just a moment. Before slowly rising from his spot on the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen, flicking the light on, and you hear the opening of your cabinets and your favorite mug being taken out before your tap is run. Katsuki returns, makes his way to your dining room to also turn on the lights and then to your front door that he locks before also turning on the lights.

Then, he finally makes his way back to you and hands you the mug that you accept with both hands and he doesn’t let go until you take three small sips at first and he sets himself back down in front of you. It’s not until your fifth sip that you realize he turned on all the lights so you could feel exposed and vulnerable under his stare. You almost choke on that, but hold it down in favor of meeting your boyfriend's gaze again.

He finally spoke, his voice low and measured, but there was a tightness there, like he was barely holding back. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the air around him crackling with restrained emotion. “You really think lying to me was a good idea?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Lying? You blinked, confusion mixing with the remnants of panic, but you didn’t get a chance to speak before Katsuki leaned in closer, his face now hovering just inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze didn’t falter, those sharp vermillion eyes pinning you in place.

“Let’s not pretend,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, unsettling calm. “You think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t tell?” His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. The way his eyes glinted, the way the tension in his jaw flexed—it was something far more dangerous.

“When did—” you started, but Katsuki cut you off, his tone sharp as a blade.

“When did I get back?” he asked, already knowing where your mind had gone. His smile widened, and the expression twisted something deep in your gut. His canines flashed, sharp and predatory, as the smirk grew into something almost menacing. “Right after you hung up the phone with me.”

Your stomach dropped. He heard? You should have known better. The way you’d tried to sound fine, the excuses you made about not being able to eat, the way your voice had shaken when you’d reassured him you were ‘doing great’—he hadn’t bought any of it. He’d come home right early, and he’d known.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued, “And you wanna know what I saw the second I walked in? You. Not taking care of yourself.”

“Again.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your mind raced back to everything over the last few days—the lack of sleep, barely eating, pushing yourself to the point of collapse. You thought you could hide it. But Katsuki wasn’t fooled. He never was.

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “Told me you were fine, that you were ‘handling things.’” He chuckled darkly, his smile stretching wider.

“Look at you. Does this look like ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to form an excuse, something to explain yourself, but the words wouldn’t come.

Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as if he were preparing for the final verdict.

“I trusted you to take care of yourself while I was gone, and what do you do? You starve yourself. You don’t sleep. You get so out of it you nearly put a bullet through your own damn apartment. All while telling me everything’s ‘great.’”

You could hear the frustration lacing his words now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else—something deeper, more raw, hiding in the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he said the word trusted.

"I tried—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt so hollow even to your own ears. Katsuki wasn’t having it.

“Tried?” His voice cracked with a dangerous laugh, one that sent chills down your spine. “You tried? No, you didn’t ‘try.’ You hid from me. You lied because you thought you could handle everything on your own.”

He leaned forward again, the smile never fading, but this time it was sharper, darker, the full display of his teeth and sharp canines making him look almost feral. His red eyes widened slightly as he stared down at you, and there was an unsettling gleam in them now, something wild and untamed.

“But you can’t, can you?” he continued, his voice almost a mockery of sweetness. “You can’t take care of yourself. So guess what?” He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “I’m doing it for you.”

Your heart lurched in your chest as his words sank in. There was something terrifying about the calmness in his tone, the way he spoke as if it was a simple fact, something decided without question.

“You’re not eating? I’ll make sure you eat. You’re not sleeping? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too.” His smile grew wider, more sinister, as if he were enjoying the thought of it. His sharp canines glinted under the light, and it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a predator.

The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, his red eyes burning into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His presence was overwhelming, his words wrapping around you like chains, trapping you in the reality of what was happening.

Katsuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less terrifying. “From now on, you don’t get to make that call. You don’t get to decide when you’re ‘fine’ or when you need help. I do.”

Your throat tightened as you tried to find the right words, the right explanation, but there was nothing that would make this better. You had lied. You had pushed yourself too far, and now you were facing the consequences. But Katsuki wasn’t just angry. He was something else—something scarier.

He reached out, cupping your face gently with one large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. But the look in his eyes, the smile still pulling at his lips, made the gesture feel anything but comforting. He hooks his other palm on the underside of your calve and squeezes it twice.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft but deadly serious. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Understand?” Katsuki dips his face lower, closer to yours as his pupils bore into your own.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with fear and guilt. Katsuki’s thumb traced your jawline, his touch deceptively gentle, but the look in his eyes was unrelenting.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his smile finally fading, replaced with that hard, determined expression you knew all too well. He stood up slowly, towering over you, and as he did, the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a storm.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

And you knew there was no fighting him. Not when he was like this.

Katsuki stood over you, eyes narrowing slightly as he reached for the mug in your hand. His fingers brushed yours, and before you could protest, he gently tugged it from your grasp, tilting the cup toward your lips. The cold refreshing liquid hit your tongue, and you blinked in surprise, forced to drink it all at his pace. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as if this small act of making sure you finished the drink was a matter of life and death.

There was no room for resistance.

"All of it," he muttered, and you obeyed, the warmth of the drink doing little to soothe the knot of nerves twisting in your stomach.

Once you drained the last of the mug, Katsuki set it aside with a soft clink and guided you to your feet. His grip was firm but not rough, the warmth of his palm grounding you as he led you through the bright apartment.

The light filtering through the bulbs was harsh compared to the dark tension that had settled between you two. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened.

When he brought you to the bathroom, you turned to shoo him out. “I can handle this part,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to get some semblance of control back. But Katsuki remained solid as a wall, unmoving, his eyes fixed on you. One eyebrow arched in that sharp, expectant way of his, and you knew you had no choice.

With a resigned sigh, you began stripping down, feeling the weight of his gaze linger, even though he wasn't watching you like that. His focus was intense, like he was making sure you didn’t skip a single step.

Katsuki stepped forward and locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the small, tiled space. The air between you thickened as he moved to turn on the water in your freshly cleaned shower, the spray sputtering to life.

Steam rose, filling the room, curling into the corners like a mist creeping through your thoughts. He tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature before turning to you, his eyes softer now, but no less serious.

“Get in,” he said, the command laced with care. His hand hovered near your elbow, ready to steady you as you stepped into the tub. You felt small under his watchful eye, but also cared for in a way that made your throat tighten.

Once you were safely under the warm spray, Katsuki turned away slightly, giving you some space, though he stayed close. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he was satisfied. You stood there for a moment, feeling the water cascade over your body, washing away the grime and exhaustion that clung to your skin.

You knew you had about five minutes before he turned back around, so you hurried, scrubbing yourself down with more effort than usual.

It wasn’t long before he came back, his eyes flicking over you with a critical, almost soft look. Satisfied with your effort, Katsuki reached for the showerhead and rinsed you off himself, his hands guiding the water over your skin. He was gentle, methodical, like he was handling something precious.

And in his eyes, that’s exactly what you are.

After rinsing you clean, Katsuki gestured for you to sit down in the tub. The air was thick with the scent of soap and steam, but beneath it all was the tension that neither of you had fully addressed. As you lowered yourself into the bubbles that Katsuki had added, you felt your face flush at the intimacy of it all.

“Ya know,” he began, his voice rough but laced with something deeper, “when I got home early, I was happy.”

You looked up at him, blinking away the water droplets clinging to your lashes. His back was to you as he rummaged through the cabinet, but there was a weight in his words that made your chest tighten. Happy? You hadn’t expected that, not after the way things had spiraled today.

“Kirishima already went up to surprise your little friend,” he continued, his voice casual but still laced with that undeniable edge of possessiveness.

He found a bottle of your favorite bath oil and added a few drops to the water, the subtle scent filling the room. Katsuki always had a way of paying attention to details like that. Things you didn’t even think he noticed.

“So it was just gonna be me and you this weekend. Me and my girlfriend.”

The way he said my girlfriend made your pulse quicken. There was something about the way Katsuki spoke when it came to you, the way he claimed the words, made them his own. It was possessive, sure, but not in the suffocating way.

It was like he was reminding you that you were his priority, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

He finally turned back to you, kneeling by the tub so that his eyes were level with yours. The light in the room flickered, casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intense. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

“So it was gonna be me and you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less serious. “But instead, I come home to find you falling apart.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the wet strands of your hair, pushing them back from your face. The gesture was soft, but there was a weight behind it.

“What the hell, babe? You can’t even take care of yourself while I’m gone?”

You opened your mouth to respond, to explain, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.

Katsuki’s hands were firm but gentle as he lathered your hair with shampoo, his fingers working through your scalp in deep, circular motions.

The pressure was so perfect that your eyes fluttered shut, a low hum escaping your throat as your body relaxed into the bath. It was embarrassing how good it felt, how every stroke of his fingers seemed to melt away the exhaustion clinging to your bones.

You could barely keep your head up, and just as your eyes threatened to roll back in your head, Katsuki splashed water at your face, jolting you back to reality.

“Oi, don’t go passing out on me just yet,” he muttered, though there was a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted behind you, grabbing the showerhead to rinse out the soap, the warm water cascading down your back as he continued his work. The rhythmic sound of water filled the space, a stark contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

“You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on your ass the second you walked back into the apartment, lookin’ all messed up like that,” Katsuki grumbled, his hands sliding down your shoulders to scrub your back.

His fingers traced the curve of your spine, his touch lingering as he was refamiliarizing himself with every dip and curve.

“You think I like seein’ you like this? All run-down and weak? You’ve got more in you than this.”

Katsuki paused, his hand hovering over your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his stare even though you weren’t looking at him. “I just want you to be healthy. To take care of yourself the way I know you can.”

His hand moved down, scrubbing your arms with the washcloth, his roughness tempered by the care behind every stroke. “I get it, life’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you don’t get to fall apart like this. Not when I’m around to make sure you’re good.”

His words were gruff, but there was something softer beneath the surface—a quiet worry that he’d never fully admit to. Katsuki rinsed you off, the soap sliding down your body as he worked, his attention never wavering.

As he moved to scrub your legs, his touch slowed for just a moment.

“You’re tough,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand brushing along the curve of your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta do everything on your own. I’m here, alright?”

He rinsed you one last time, his hand lingering at the small of your back as if anchoring you to the moment.

“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for not jumping your ass the second I saw you. But first, we’re gonna get you back to being you again.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest. Katsuki wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you. And part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

“No excuses,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up so you couldn’t look away. His thumb brushed against your lips, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t get to lie to me about this anymore.”

His gaze softened, but the intensity of his words remained. “I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. Even if that means watching over you every damn second.”

You nodded, the movement small, but Katsuki saw it. His hand dropped from your chin, and he leaned back, standing up to his full height as he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Good,” he said, his voice softer now. He draped the towel over his shoulder and held out his hand to help you out of the tub. The air was cool against your skin as you stepped out the tub, his touch lingering on your shoulders as he pulled you close. The weight of the day seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet.

Katsuki is rough around the edges, sure. But when it came to you, there was no doubt—he’d take care of you, fuck everyone else.

Katsuki wrapped the fluffy towel around your body, still warm and soft from the dryer. You nuzzled into it, relishing the feeling of warmth against your skin, the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. His chuckle was low, almost rumbling through his chest as he set you gently on the bath mat.

"Wait here," he said, his voice firm yet filled with that protective edge you’d grown so used to. You sat obediently, the towel cocooning you in its comforting warmth as Katsuki disappeared briefly.

When he returned, he carried a chair from the dinning and placed it in front of the bathroom mirror. He motioned for you to sit, and you did so without protest. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the care he was giving made it easier to just lean into his routine. You felt his fingers work through your damp hair with gentle precision as he sectioned it off to braid.

The motions were firm but soft, practiced as if he had done this countless times before. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax under his touch as he skillfully wove your hair into two simple, neat braids.

“There,” he murmured, wrapping a towel around the ends to help them dry. “That should do for now.” He gave you a brief once-over, satisfied with his work.

Next, Katsuki grabbed a toothbrush and came back toward you, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto it. Before you could protest or joke, he pressed the brush gently against your lips, and you reluctantly opened your mouth.

As he began brushing, your lips curled in a playful pout, and you made an attempt to nip his fingers with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Katsuki’s reaction was immediate, pulling back just slightly before leaning in close, his face inches from yours, eyes glinting with amusement.

“You really want me to bite you, huh?” he teased, voice low as his breath brushed your skin. You pouted but couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in. Slowly, you nodded, biting your lower lip. He smirked at your response, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shiver.

Your breath hitched as you squeezed him, wrapping your arms around his waist, but the sound that almost escaped you was quickly stifled as you pulled back, burying your face into the towel.

Katsuki chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with himself. "Behave," he muttered, finishing with your teeth. He handed you the mouthwash next. “Rinse,” he instructed, his eyes following your every move. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out, feeling oddly refreshed.

Once that was done, he moved on to the next part of his routine—your skincare. His touch was methodical as he washed your face, scrubbing gently and making sure every inch of your skin was properly cared for.

You could feel the cool cleanser on your cheeks as he worked, and there was something oddly intimate about the way he treated each step like it was second nature.

“No more mascara,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes as he gently dabbed a soft towel against your skin. “I want you to keep those damn lashes.”

You giggled at his comment, catching his eye in the mirror. “Hitoshi says we’re the only ones who make insomnia look sexy,” you teased.

“Don’t take compliments from a guy who needs a bag check for his fuckin’ eyes.”

You snorted, while Katsuki was rolling his eyes. “That idiot looked like death last mission. He and Denki passed out under the table like a couple of idiots,” he said, shaking his head.

“We should to check in on them—”

He interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “We can check on them tomorrow.”

His gaze shifted, locking onto yours with a possessive glint that made your stomach flutter. “You’re all mine this weekend. Those extras can wait.”

You blushed, your face softening as the weight of his words settled over you. The tenderness beneath his rough exterior always caught you off guard, especially when he showed it in moments like these. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for once, it wasn’t just because of the cozy towel wrapped around you.

Katsuki reached into the drawer, grabbing your favorite lip oil with a casual confidence, but his movements slowed with deliberate care as he traced the line of your cupid's bow, filling in your lips with precise strokes.

You felt the cool glide of the oil over your lips, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air between you. Watching him concentrate so intensely on such a delicate task brought a smile to your face.

“I can remember the last time you did something like this~”

you teased, the sing-song lilt in your voice light, playful. His reaction was immediate—his sharp vermillion eyes snapped back to yours, but his reddening ears gave him away. For all his confidence, a comment like that still managed to fluster him. The slight color spreading across his face would’ve been easy to miss if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

His scowl deepened, and he growled, “So you wanna get your ass knocked out or what?”

You giggled, placing one hand on his solid shoulder, your fingers brushing against the heat radiating from his skin. Then, with a grin, you pressed the crown of your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek.

“Nooo, I’m just so happy you’re here!” Your voice was soft, genuine, the relief and joy of his presence making you melt into the moment.

Katsuki’s tension ebbed as he rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He let your teasing slide, his usual gruffness tempered by the tenderness he rarely let anyone else see.

Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, his strength effortless as he held you close to his chest. You clung to him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your palm.

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

As he carried you through the apartment, Katsuki flicked off the lights with a casual swipe of his hand, the darkness closing in behind you both. When you entered your room, you were greeted with the fresh, clean scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly Katsuki.

You blinked in surprise, realizing just how spotless everything was.

The bed was made, your clothes folded, and the air felt lighter, even though your mirror—still cracked from earlier—reflected back the remnants of your impulsive outburst. The shards of glass had already been swept and vacuumed away, leaving no trace of the mess.

Before you could comment, Katsuki threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing lightly against the plush comforter. “Hey!” you protested, mock indignation coloring your voice as you propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him.

He just smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re asking for it.” You narrowed your eyes, grabbing one of your stuffed animals—a soft, well-loved bunny—and held it up like a threat. “I’ll throw all my stuffed animals at you, Katsuki, don’t test me.”

But the playful moment quickly shifted, his expression darkening with a predatory edge. His eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he stalked toward you, inch by inch, like a wild animal sizing up its prey. The air between you thickened, electric, and your breath caught in your throat.

"You really wanna do that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered briefly to the stuffed bunny in your hand before it snapped back to your face. "When you know how I feel about your 'babies'?" The way he drawled out the word—"babies"—made heat coil low in your stomach, your body responding involuntarily to the tension in the air.

Your grip on the bunny loosened, and without thinking, you let it drop from your hand. It tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud, forgotten, as you instinctively wrapped yourself tighter in the towel, your pulse quickening.

Katsuki’s smirk widened at your silence, his voice a low rumble as he teased, “What, no answer for me?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, turning his ear toward you as if daring you to speak.

Instead of words, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He tugged at the edge of your towel with one finger, pulling it down just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. His lips descended, pressing a hot, firm kiss against the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his breath hot as he whispered against your skin,

“Good choice.”

Your breath hitched, your body shivering as you leaned into his touch, his kiss lingering like a brand against your flesh. The air around you was thick with unspoken words, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his presence, the safety and intensity that only Katsuki could bring.

Katsuki’s hands reached for the hem of his skull-printed shirt, fingers curling as he lifted it over his head. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, every line of his sculpted frame rippling with controlled power. He didn’t bother tossing it aside like he normally would. Instead, he draped it over you, lowering it onto your head before helping you slip your arms through the sleeves.

You smiled softly as the worn fabric slid down your body, the familiar scent of Katsuki surrounding you like a comforting embrace. His shirt was huge on you, the edges brushing just past your thighs, the warmth of it melding with the heat radiating from him.

You shifted beneath him, looking up as he hovered over you, his palms bracing on either side of your head. The proximity made your heart race, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened for just a second, the intensity still present but tempered with something warmer, more intimate.

He didn’t say anything as you wrapped your arms around his strong back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

“Come here,” you murmured, giving him a gentle tap between his shoulder blades.

Without hesitation, Katsuki let himself drop, all the glorious warmth of his body pressing against you in a slow, controlled descent. The heavy weight of his chest flattened against yours, and you sighed in contentment, the closeness making you feel grounded.

Katsuki’s body, normally so explosive and full of barely contained energy, was now soft and pliant against you, like he was giving you the privilege of feeling his full, unfiltered presence.

Your hands naturally found their way to his spiky blonde hair, fingers threading through the surprisingly soft strands. For all the sharpness of his exterior, Katsuki’s hair was softer than most people knew—something only a select few had the privilege to experience. He guarded his personal space like a fortress, and it took time for him to let his guard down around anyone, let alone like this.

But with you, it was different. He was different.

He was your fussy Pomeranian—prickly to everyone else, but with a soft, loyal core.

You gently massaged his scalp, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you worked through the spiked chaos of his hair. You could feel him relax, his tense shoulders loosening as he melted further into you, letting out a low grunt of approval. The sound was almost primal, a rumbling that vibrated through his chest and into yours.

You were so caught up in the moment, fingers tracing the line of his neck and combing through his hair, that you almost missed the sudden burst of air against your shoulder. It wasn’t until you felt the wet tickle of his lips blowing a raspberry into your skin that you realized he was trying to get your attention.

“What the—Katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as the sound reverberated through your skin. He smirked against your shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.

He lifted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “You listening now, or do I gotta do it again?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was that familiar edge of dominance underneath it all.

You huffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes before looking up at him. “What were you saying, genius?”

Katsuki grinned, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lowered himself again, letting his breath fan against your ear. “I said you’re lucky, you know that?” His voice was softer now, but it still held that commanding tone that sent a spark of heat through your chest.

“Lucky I didn’t pounce on you the second I got back.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and your breath hitched as you met his gaze. The raw intensity in his eyes, that feral spark you loved so much, was back. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless. “Yeah? And why didn’t you?”

His grin widened as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I’m not an idiot. I could see you weren’t takin’ care of yourself. And I ain’t about to let my girl fall apart while I’m gone.”

You blinked, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, though his words held a stern undertone. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly against you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of his shirt. The touch was possessive but careful, like he was reminding you who was in charge of your well-being now.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but sometimes, you get stressed and forget.” His hands stilled, resting on your waist. “So I’m gonna do it for you.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Katsuki, in his own gruff way, always knew exactly what you needed. And it wouldn’t even admit it outright, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known.

You felt your hands tighten in his hair again, tugging gently as you let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of affection and guilt. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself lately, but hearing him say it hit differently. It made you realize just how much he’d noticed, how much he’d been keeping track, even when he wasn’t around.

Katsuki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his head to look down at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well... just don’t make me come home to that shit again, got it?” His voice was still gruff, but there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. He didn’t need to say it outright, but you knew—he wasn’t going anywhere. Not when it came to you.

Without another word, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you let yourself relax under the weight of his body, feeling safe, loved, and cared for.

The two of you lay there in a soft, comfortable silence, the weight of Katsuki’s warm body settled against yours, his steady breath fanning over your skin.

His arms, strong yet gentle, stayed wrapped around your waist as if anchoring himself to you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the sheets and the subtle creaking of the bed beneath your weight. You were about to close your eyes, savoring the moment, when you felt a slight flutter against your neck. His long eyelashes were brushing against your skin, tickling you softly.

You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Katsuki, you alright?"

A muffled, "Yeah," came from him, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. But something in the way he said it made you pause. His head shifted, settling over your boob (chest), right where your heart was. The sensation of his ear pressing against your heartbeat sent a wave of warmth and electricity rushing through you. Your soul felt like it was lighting up, a familiar connection between you two sparking alive.

Katsuki reached for your hand, his calloused fingers weaving through yours with a gentleness that contrasted his usual roughness. He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed them over his own heart, resting them there. The sensation, the intimacy of the moment, sent a tingle through your entire body, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and connection. It was rare for Katsuki to be this tender, to show you this vulnerable side of himself.

And yet, as you lay there, your heartbeats in sync, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A soft, involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him. You could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, steady and strong, and you were certain he could feel yours, too. The electric charge between you wasn’t just emotional; it felt physical, like your very essence was reaching out to him, and he to you. Katsuki, usually so tough and guarded, was here in your arms, sharing this tender moment.

But as you lay there, soaking in the warmth of the moment, something shifted. Katsuki stiffened slightly in your arms, his body going rigid against yours. You could feel his breath hitch, and when you looked down, you saw the confusion in his eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked completely lost, almost scared.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you felt him tense even further. A flicker of panic shot through you. You knew how hard it was for Katsuki to express his emotions, and seeing him like this, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down, tugged at something deep inside of you.

"Are you having those pains again? Is it your chest?!"

Katsuki shook his head quickly, but his face contorted, and he let out a sharp sniff, his breaths coming faster. His fingers squeezed yours, his grip tightening as his other arm wrapped around your waist with almost a desperate strength.

You could feel the heat rising off his skin, his body suddenly clammy as if he were in a battle. His muscles tensed and flexed, his jaw clenched as he tried to fight whatever emotions were threatening to spill out.

"'S alright," he mumbled into your chest, but you could hear the tremble in his voice, the way it cracked as if he were holding something back. He buried his face deeper against you, curling into your body as though trying to shield himself from the storm brewing inside him.

"No, 'S not alright," you countered softly, your hand moving to rub slow, calming circles over his sweaty back. "Come on, Katsu, you know you can tell me."

You felt his heart pounding harder against your hand, the frantic rhythm echoing through your palm. His breath hitched again, and you instinctively shifted, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. Your other hand moved to the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of his tight muscles as his breaths came in shallow gasps.

Katsuki’s palms, usually dry and strong, grew slick with sweat, and you could feel his hands trembling as they gripped yours. He sniffed again, louder this time, his body shuddering as he tried to regain control. Several deep, shaky breaths followed, but he didn’t pull away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head. His red eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, his lashes wet as he blinked them away. He sat up slowly, pulling himself out of your embrace, though he still held onto your hand like a lifeline. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his gaze distant as if he were trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

You reached up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Baby, talk to me, please.”

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft, raw. “I dunno... I just—” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked down at your hand still resting over his heart. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him like this, so vulnerable and confused. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling things this deeply, wasn’t used to letting anyone in like this. But here he was, breaking down in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold him together.

You scooted closer, sitting up and pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katsu,” you whispered, your voice soothing as you cupped his face in your hands. “You’re just... feeling things. It’s okay.”

Katsuki closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t like not... not being able to control it.”

You kissed his forehead softly, letting your lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. “You don’t always have to be in control. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, just sat there with his eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out as he let your words sink in. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were still glassy, but the panic had faded, replaced by a quiet resolve. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t... I don’t wanna lose it.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek. “You won’t lose it, Katsuki. I’m here.”

Katsuki’s hand tightened around yours as he pulled back slightly, taking in a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. His eyes, still a little glassy but full of determination, met yours with a quiet intensity. “I didn’t want to be away from you,” he started, his voice soft but firm. “Even if work’s important... to me, you’re more important.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that his work as a hero mattered, that it saved lives, but the look he gave you made you stop short. His gaze softened as it met yours, a silent plea for understanding. And instead of fighting back, you took his rough, calloused hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Then, with a small smile, you pressed his hands gently to your cheeks, letting him feel the warmth there, the quiet affection you had for him.

“I’m with you,” you whispered, and those simple words seemed to ease the tension in his body. He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily before he continued.

“I get it,” he said, his voice a little stronger now. “Why you’re always trying to be so independent. You’ve got your own life, your own goals, and I want to respect that.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek as he spoke, as though grounding himself with your touch.

“But I can’t... I can’t just sit by and watch you not take care of yourself. Sometimes... I feel like it’s my job to make sure you’re okay, ‘cause I... I love you.”

His voice cracked on those last words, and you saw the raw emotion flicker in his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t used to being vulnerable like this, to letting people see the softer side of him. But he was here, laying it all bare in front of you. You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity, the fear that maybe you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. It tugged at something deep inside you.

“I love you, and I want to take care of you,” he went on, his grip on your hands tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I wanna protect you, keep you safe, even when you don’t think you need it. It’s... it’s who I am. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you moved your hands over his arms, gently rubbing along the firm, tense muscles as you tried to soothe him. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his shoulders as he kept talking, the weight of his emotions finally spilling out.

“I just...” Katsuki paused, his voice faltering for a moment as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat at bay. “This time away from you... it made me realize a lot. How much I love you, how much I need you around. I can’t stand it when I’m not with you, even if it’s just for a few days.” He let out a small, almost bitter chuckle. “You probably think it’s stupid, huh?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head as you continued to run your hands over his arms, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your touch. “It’s not stupid,” you whispered. “I missed you too.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered with relief, but there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his expression. “But you... you don’t take care of yourself, not the way you should,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You always look after everyone else—hell, you make sure everyone’s okay, but you don’t do the same for yourself. It drives me crazy.”

You gave him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood just a little. “You can’t keep an eye on me all the time, Katsu.”

He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you don’t make a habit of neglecting yourself, but when you do... you’re a hypocrite. You’ll run yourself into the ground to help everyone else, but then act like you don’t need anyone to do the same for you.”

You wanna stick your tongue out at him but knowing Katsuki, he’d make you regret that all night long.

Katsuki’s intense gaze lingered, tracing every inch of you with a sharp, possessive look that made your heart race. His eyes moved from the top of your head, down the gentle curve of your neck, over the way his oversized skull shirt bunched up on your thighs, and down to your toes.

You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between you thickened with tension.

Then he blinked, and it was like a fog lifting. He shifted, reaching into the deep pockets of his sweatpants with a small grunt. “I wanted to do this ‘right,’ ya know,” he muttered, almost to himself, but the words were laced with that familiar gruffness. His fingers fiddled with something in his pocket, his focus still mostly on you.

“Spent weeks with those dumbasses—picking out flowers, going through all these fancy restaurants, trying to get the perfect gift. Because you’re my girl, and I only get the best for you.”

His voice was low, raspy, and the way his eyes softened briefly before trailing down to your legs made your breath catch. His hand, rough and warm, ghosted over your ankle as if testing the waters before his grip tightened, just enough to pull you slightly closer with a small, teasing tug.

The movement startled you, and you yelped, instinctively wrapping the towel tighter around your waist as you scrambled upright, your heart hammering against your ribs. Katsuki’s laughter rumbled through the room, deep and genuine, the sound like warm honey coating the air. He was taking in the sight of your flustered reaction with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

“Kats,” you started, still catching your breath as you eyed him suspiciously, “what are you getting at?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned, that familiar cocky, dangerous look that always made your pulse quicken. His grin softened into something more meaningful, more grounded, but still tinged with that wild spark. That look in his eye? It was the one that always had you convinced that all the hot ones were definitely crazy.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Since I met you.”

You blinked, watching as his gaze flickered down to your bare legs. His jaw clenched for a split second, and he let out a low curse under his breath. “Should’ve used that damn lotion,” he muttered, almost to himself, clearly irritated that he hadn’t taken the chance to pamper you properly.

The moonlight filtering in from your window cast a silvery glow over him, highlighting every cut and line of his muscles as if he were carved from stone.

He was beautiful, raw, like a storm contained just beneath the surface, and for a brief moment, you were distracted by the sight of him—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach flexed with each breath.

You could have his babies right here, right now.

Then his voice softened again, and the mood shifted as he spoke. “I love you. I really do.” His tone was hushed, like it was just for you. His eyes—usually so full of fire and determination—now held something much deeper, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It was just him. Your Katsuki.

“I’m not good with this shit. I know that,” he admitted, his mouth tugging into a small, self-deprecating smirk. “But I wanna do this right.”

You blinked, feeling the air grow heavier as he squared his shoulders, a determined glint returning to his eyes. His hand finally left his pocket, and in one swift, almost impatient motion, he pulled something out and opened it in front of you.

A small box. Velvet. The kind that held only one thing.

Your breath hitched, and your entire world seemed to narrow down to that tiny box and the ring inside it. It glittered in the low light, catching the moon's glow, but the details were lost on you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

Katsuki looked at you, dead-on, his expression both serious and soft at the same time, like he was offering you everything he had.

“Would you marry me and be my hot mess?”

For a split second, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the words that had just come out of his mouth. You felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs with a feather—hell, they could have knocked you over with one.

The world stopped spinning. Your eyes darted between the ring and Katsuki, who was watching you carefully now, his breath held as if he was waiting for your next move. You could feel the gravity of this moment pressing down on your chest, and yet... it wasn’t the heavy kind of weight that scared you. No. It was something else entirely.

It was the kind of weight that came with the realization that this moment, this person in front of you, was everything you never knew you needed.

A million thoughts raced through your mind, and none of them made sense, but your body reacted first. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, only a small breathless laugh as you brought your shaking hands up to your mouth. Katsuki’s eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction, and the barest hint of nerves flashed behind his hardened exterior. He might’ve been a fearless hero, but this?

This was different.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice as the emotions swirled inside you. “You... you’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he replied immediately, his voice unwavering now. His eyes bore into yours with that fierce conviction only he could pull off. “I’ve been serious about you from the start. I love you, and I’m not waiting around anymore. I want you. With me. Always.”

His words sank into you, and before you even fully realized what you were doing, your hands shot forward, grabbing his face, pulling him down toward you. You kissed him—deeply, passionately, pouring everything you had into it, letting the overwhelming feelings consume you.

His lips were warm, familiar, grounding. Katsuki groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was too much to bear.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling with his as you both panted softly. The world around you faded, and all that was left was the man in front of you and the question still hanging in the air.

“Yes,” you breathed, smiling through the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Yes, Katsuki. I’ll marry you.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered joy on his face. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, in the soft curl of his lips and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Katsuki Bakugo had won another battle—this time, with your heart.

Katsuki's rough fingers, calloused and warm, carefully slid the ring over your finger, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. You couldn’t help but gasp as the gem caught the light, sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was more than beautiful—it was personal. The stone in the center was your birthstone, cut into your favorite shape and polished into your favorite color, surrounded by a delicate halo of tiny rubies. Rubies just like his eyes.

Your gaze flickered to the ring and then back to Katsuki. “How… how did you…?” you whispered, utterly floored. The details were so specific, the kind that you had only mentioned in passing, mostly to Michael. But somehow, Katsuki had pieced it all together.

The rubies glistened against the band, and nestled between them were smaller gemstones that mirrored the exact shade of your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, there was another set of gems, a deep, fiery orange—the color of Katsuki’s favorite thing: explosions.

You turned the ring over in your hand, overwhelmed by the craftsmanship, the thoughtfulness. Every inch of the piece was a reflection of you, of him, of both of you together. Whoever he went to had worked some serious magic. As your fingers brushed over the band, something else caught your eye. With trembling hands, you slipped the ring off, turning it over, and there it was—engraved into the inside of the band in Katsuki’s unmistakable bluntness:

“I love you, dumbass.”

That was it. The tears came again, flooding your vision before you could stop them. Your chest tightened with the overwhelming sweetness of it all. You’d never expected this. How could you? This whole day had taken such a turn that your emotions were a tangled mess, and now, here you were, crying like a baby over a ring. But it wasn’t just any ring—it was him, you, everything.

“Katsuki,” you sobbed, bringing the ring to your chest as if it could stop the flood of emotions. Your voice trembled, but before you could even say another word, Katsuki’s eyes widened in pure panic. He hated when you cried. Hell, it wasn’t often that you let yourself fall apart like this, and seeing you like that sent him spiraling.

“Oi, oi! Don’t cry, damn it!” he barked, his voice frantic as he moved in closer, cupping your face with both hands. But then his panic melted into something softer as his thumbs wiped away the tears.

“I’m serious, stop it, or you’re gonna make me lose it.”

But the sight of your tears didn’t stop him from acting on impulse. In typical Katsuki fashion, he leaned down and kissed you, first pressing his lips all over your face, desperate to dry every tear. But he didn’t stop there. In a ridiculous, completely endearing move, he leaned over and licked your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears with a playful smirk. You squealed, pulling away in shock, your face scrunched up in disbelief.

“Did you just—ew, Katsuki! That’s so gross!”

You smacked his solid chest, half laughing, half horrified, but that only egged him on. “Oh, I’m gross now, huh?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous as he grinned down at you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he launched himself at you, playfully wrestling you down onto the bed.

“No, no—Katsuki!” you shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as his strong arms trapped you beneath him. He pinned you effortlessly, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. His lips were on you again, peppering your face with kisses, and soon enough, the two of you were tumbling around in the sheets, rolling and laughing like a couple of kids.

The wrestling match was chaotic, full of breathless laughter, limbs tangled up, and soft murmurs of affection between teasing jabs. Katsuki was surprisingly playful, and before long, you were both breathless, collapsing side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as your hearts raced in sync.

You turned your head, catching the way his chest heaved with each breath, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His messy hair, usually so spiked and wild, was disheveled in the cutest way possible. Without thinking, you reached out, running your fingers through it, smoothing it back in place. He hummed in contentment, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over at you.

“But where’s your ring?” you asked, suddenly realizing that the gesture had been one-sided. You were the one with the ring on your finger, but what about him?

Katsuki chuckled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “My ring, huh?” He smirked, eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky glint. “I’ll just give you my wallet, and you can surprise me.”

You blinked, taken aback for a second, before bursting into laughter. “M’Okay!” you replied, your voice full of playful mockery. “But don’t blame me if I pick something pink and covered in glitter.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” he shot back, unbothered by the thought, though you knew he’d raise hell if you actually went through with it. The both of you erupted into laughter again, the sound filling the room like music.

Katsuki shifted, rolling onto his side as he gently took your hand in his, threading your fingers together like he always did. His lips found your hand again, this time softer, more purposeful. He kissed the spot right over your ring, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing his promise to you.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked at him, your fiancé, the man who had somehow managed to make this chaotic mess of a proposal the most perfect moment of your life.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, his rough exterior melting away in the intimate glow of the moonlight. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you too, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but his expression was nothing short of tender.

In that moment, wrapped up in each other, you realized something: this—this wild, crazy love you shared with Katsuki—was the only thing that made sense in the world. You lay there together, side by side, hearts entwined, you knew without a doubt that you had found your forever.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the bed, but you groaned, stretching lazily as you woke up. Your fingers instinctively brushed against your hair, feeling the unruly mess it had become overnight—complete with knots and stubborn curls that had a mind of their own.

You squinted at the brightness as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Checking it, you saw the familiar ping of an email notification and grinned. You've been paid.

Sweet relief!

Rolling over to share the good news, you blinked in surprise at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold, and there was no sign of your fiancé—wait, boyfriend—wait, fiancé! A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you at the thought of the word.

But the smell of breakfast caught your attention, and any irritation at his absence melted away. The unmistakable scent of eggs, with a hint of something smoky—probably bacon—wafted down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clink of pans from the kitchen.

Katsuki was already up, and the thought made you smile.

Without bothering to fix your appearance, you hopped out of bed, your feet hitting the cool, hardwood floor with a soft thud. You knew you’d hear about it later—how walking around barefoot would make you catch a cold. He always ranted about that kind of stuff, but you’d just smile and give him your usual “Yes, mama,” while he’d glare at you with that fiery look.

But for now, you padded down the hall, completely barefoot, on a mission.

The closer you got, the stronger his scent became—that familiar, intoxicating mix of burnt caramel and something inherently Katsuki. You spotted him before he even saw you, standing at the stove, his back turned, a spatula in hand as he expertly flipped eggs in a pan. His muscles were taut, his broad shoulders moving effortlessly as he worked. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

With a mischievous grin, you quietly made your way over, your bare feet silent against the floor. And then, in one swift move, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Hi, fiancé!” you greeted, your voice muffled as you inhaled deeply, taking in that addictive scent that was all his.

Katsuki stiffened for a split second, more from surprise than anything else, but he quickly recovered. With a chuckle, he reached over and turned off the stove, placing the spatula down before his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them as he adjusted your weight.

“You’re gonna burn the damn house down one day, y’know that?” he muttered, but there was a playful note in his voice. Before you could even respond, he effortlessly spun you around, lifting you off his back and setting you down on the kitchen counter nearby. His strength never failed to amaze you, and you giggled as your bare legs dangled off the edge, your hands resting on his chest.

His eyes softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lazy good morning kiss. “Hi, teddy bear,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You smiled into the kiss, but just as you started to pull him closer, he pulled back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

He frowned, glancing down. “Did you use the bathroom?”

“Nope.”

His scowl deepened, though you could see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Wash your face?”

“Also, no.”

Katsuki groaned dramatically, running a hand through his messy, spiked hair. “And this is exactly why you’re moving in with me today. You need supervision,” he grumbled, though his voice was more affectionate than angry. Before you could argue, he lightly smacked your thighs, the contact sending a playful jolt through you.

“Katsuki!” you gasped, half laughing as you swatted at him, but he only pointed toward the living room.

Your delicate features blossomed into an expression of confusion. “What?” But he didn’t respond, instead looking so mischievous and pleased with himself.

That’s when you noticed it—half of your living room was in disarray, large boxes stacked high, and furniture already disassembled. It looked like a moving truck had stormed through your place. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the sight.

“KATSUKI!” you shrieked, your voice bouncing off the walls as the reality of what he’d done sank in. He had already packed half your stuff—without even telling you! You couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t even flinch at your outburst, just gave you that smug, self-satisfied grin of his, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“What? I told you, you’re movin’ in today. Thought I’d help speed things up,” he said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just dismantled your entire living room.

You huffed, staring at the boxes like you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You could’ve at least warned me!”

He chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your waist. “Nah. You’d just overthink it. This way, it’s done, and we don’t have to argue about it,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss your nose.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still not done with school, you know. And we haven’t even… there’s no… ring on your finger.”

Katsuki quirked a brow, his smirk turning wicked. “I told you, give me my wallet, and you can surprise me with the ring.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, the playful edge to his voice making your heart skip a beat. “And don’t worry about school. You can study at my place just fine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. You melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your feet curling around his calves.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips tingling. “You don’t play fair,” you muttered, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

He grinned, kissing your forehead softly before pressing his lips to your knuckles where your ring sat. “I play to win, babe. And I already did,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

You sighed, leaning into him, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou always got his way.

Before you could respond to his sweet words, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You leaned in closer, pretending to go in for another kiss, but at the last second, you bit him—just lightly, on his shoulder—before snatching the plate of bacon from the counter. Katsuki blinked, his eyes widening in confusion before narrowing sharply as he processed what had just happened.

“You little brat!” he growled, his voice full of playful irritation.

With a squeal, you jumped off the counter, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and bolted for the bedroom, the stolen bacon in hand. You knew exactly what you were doing. Katsuki typically hated when anyone touched his food (although he actually had a habit of feeding you from his plate and fork), but you couldn’t help it. You loved riling him up, especially when he got that fire in his eyes!~

"Come back here, princess!" he barked, and the sound of his footsteps echoed behind you.

You darted around the corner, your heart pounding with adrenaline and laughter bubbling in your throat. The hardwood floor was slippery, and you barely made it to the door when Katsuki’s booming footsteps got louder. He was fast, too fast.

A real predator on the hunt, and you were his target.

“Fuuuuck it, we ball!” you shouted over your shoulder, laughing as you slid into the bedroom. You could hear him cursing under his breath, muttering something about how you were always testing him. You were a princess, and yeah, maybe a bit of a brat, but that was part of your charm. You loved to push his buttons, loved how easy it was to get under his skin.

You heard the door slam behind you as Katsuki entered the room, hot on your heels. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense as he advanced. You tried to dodge him, but he was quicker, snatching the plate of bacon from your hands before grabbing your waist and pulling you back into his chest.

“Gotcha now, you little thief,” he growled in your ear, his voice low and warning, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

You squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held you firm, his arms like steel bands around your waist. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” you giggled, breathless from the chase.

“You’re damn right you do,” he murmured before spinning you around and planting a quick, searing kiss on your lips. It was rough, but it was Katsuki through and through—fiery, intense, and full of passion.

You grinned against his lips, leaning into him. “Guess I’m still your little brat then, huh?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he looked down at you with that same possessive, loving gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Damn right you are. My brat, my princess, my pain in the ass.”

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you. “And you’re my grumpy fiancé,” you teased, poking his ribs.

Katsuki grumbled, but his smirk softened, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. But I’m your grumpy fiancé, so fuck it—we ball.”

In that moment, tangled together, laughter still lingering in the air, you knew without a doubt that you were his, and he was yours. No matter what life throws at you, you’d face it together.

Always.

Taglist for Bakugou: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

2K notes · View notes

hearts4chriss · 10 months ago

Text

Spoiled rotten.

boyfriend!Chris! + spoiled!black fem gf

Prompt: in which in all ur relationships prior to Chris, they’ve never treated you right or made you feel appreciated, as ur bestfriend, he couldn’t stand that anymore he made a move and he changes all that for you, and better. He spoils you Rotten.

Part 9

Contains: lots of kissing, hella money spent, fast/rough fingering in the car, recently established relationship ( like 4ish months ), fem!oral, modeling all the new things he bought you turns into👀, overstimulation, Chris has his drivers license in this, fluff towards the end

Chris and I had been together for around 4 months and I swear he’s the best boyfriend I could’ve ever asked for.

Prior to him I had been treated like shit, guys not taking me out, name calling never getting flowers just bare minimum. And Chris hated seeing that so he confessed his feelings which were mutual too mine and we’ve been together ever since.

Chris is the youngest of the sturniolo triplets who are all my bestfriends, they’ve made a lot of progress and money on YouTube and I’m so proud of them. I told Chris not to spend any of his money on me but that didn’t end well.

Ever since we’ve started dating he’d taken me to the nicest restaurants in LA, always buying me flowers randomly not just special dates, always buying me things ( not that I’ve asked ), and just treating me like a princess.

I’ve loved every second of it, and it’s not even just that, whenever we have sex I don’t feel like shit after, he takes care of me, treats me good and praises me.

Today Chris insisted on taking me on a shopping spree because I’ve had a really rough week with modeling and mentally just been exhausted even when I told he didn’t have to but he wanted to do it for me.

“babyyy you ready?” Chris calls from upstairs

I walk out of our shared room wearing a long fitted grey skims body-con dress hugging my curves really showing off my figure, along with my new different shades of cream coloured Jordan’s that Chris and I have too match and my new 30 inch bussdown that I had installed last week he insisted on paying for even though I told him I got it.

Chris licked his lips hungrily as I walked down the stairs and approached him immediately gravitating his hands to my waist.

“God princess ur so fucking pretty yk that?” He placed a kiss on my lips and I smiled widely at his compliment.

“Thank you baby.” I chuckle and smile at the way he’s looking at me.

“Like- really good- like “we might not make it too the mall” good.” Chris pressed himself into me already feeling his dick pressed against my thigh.

“Chrisss, come on you said I get too go shopping.” I teased walking towards the car and he smacks my ass and I shriek letting a chuckle slip from his lips.

“Ur a freak.” I giggle as he opened the door for me and I got in.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, I’m tempted to do something to you right now ma.” He smirked climbing in the car beginning to drive.

The drive was pretty smooth but always LA traffic hits and Chris’s hand had slowly been creeping up my thigh and it had me soaked, the way his hands felt through the thin fabric made me desperate for his fingers.

I began to shift in my seat anxiously waiting to see if he’d notice this.

he chuckled immediately sliding my dress up carefully pressing his middle and ring finger to my panties already feeling how soaked they were with arousal.

“already so fucking wet.” He mutters and I spread my legs giving him easier access and he clearly liked that.

“Such a good girl.” Chris smiled as I slid my panties off and his fingers get to work at my needy core.

I moaned softly feeling him circle my clit as I shuddered biting my lip waiting for him to move faster.

“don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good I promise.” He kissed me again deeply as we were in traffic allowing this too distract as he inserted his fingers into my pussy immediately closing around him.

“fuckk chris.” I moan out softly rolling my eyes back as I tried to make sure none of my wetness dripped on his seat.

He sighed and laughed a bit when he noticed.

“relax princess I want it on my seat, ur the only one allowed in this seat.” He pressed a kiss to my ear as he says this still knuckles deep inside me hitting my g-spot repeatedly now making me cry out.

“can’t wait till you cum all over my fingers so I can taste you.” He said almost in a growl like tone as a moan slipped from my glossy lips not letting up his fingers perfectly going against my walls.

“shit-“ I groan throwing my head on the seats when he curved his fingers into my pussy more desperate to make me cum quicker then normal.

“fuck Chris!” I yelp gripping onto the console of the car and he grabs my hand placing a kiss too it sending warmth too the rest of my body.

“your almost there pretty girl just hold my hand yeah?”Chris placed a loving kiss on my cheek and I nodded holding his hand loving how the tattood initials of my name in cursive rested on the middle finger.

“Mmph Fuckk I’m cumming!” And with that alone and his every dirty word made me squirt all over his fingers letting it drip out onto my seat letting me catch my breath.

“Lift up for me baby.” He said softly placing a pink towel down for me and wiping off the seat with cleaning wipes before sitting me back down fixing my dress.

“Fuck you now my legs are sore-“ I roll my eyes playfully he chuckles pulling into the mall parking lot.

“Well lucky for you, we are here, ready to get spoiled rotten sweetheart? Because that’s exactly what im gonna do.”

I sighed giving a smile and nod as he held my hand and we walked into the mall

Chris was not fucking kidding

whenever I touched something in each store he would put it in the cart and buy it which resulted in WELL over 5000 spent on me which he didn’t have to do but hell I’m never turning down free shit from this man.

We went too Victoria secret, prada, footlocker and dior. He kept reassuring me.

“go ahead baby whatever you want it’s yours”

“Don’t worry about me this is all for you princess you deserve it”

“Can’t wait to see how pretty my girl looks in all these clothes”

It was honestly bringing tears to my eyes from how sweet and thoughtful he was.

Eventuallyyy we did make it back to the house carrying allll the bags in upstairs too our shared bedroom.

Chris sat eagerly on the bed as he could not wait to see me try on these clothes, specifically the lingerie.

now I’d never worn lingerie for anyone before but I wanted to give it a try and Chris convinced me so I bought a few ( 21 ) sets.

I was now in our bathroom slipping on one of the sets that I really liked

it was a one piece thong body suit and it hugged my curves which I really liked and pushed my tits up a bit and I felt like it was definitely a lot and I was nervous to show him.

Nonetheless I sucked in a breath and opened the bathroom door meeting a very shocked and turned on Chris.

his eyes wandered my body as I smiled giving him a small spin he lets out a faint “fuck” and I felt wetness immediately shoot to my core.

“Do you like it? I was a little nervous that-“ I was cut off by Chris’s hands on my waist kissing my lips.

“Of course I like it, you look fucking perfect you have such a beautiful body baby.” He says softly with those blue predator eyes as I drowned in them.

Chris’s eyes wandered towards my thighs biting his bottom lip slightly making me flush inside a bit since I’d always been told my thighs were too big.

“What’s wrong mama? There’s nothing wrong with ur thighs, I was just thinking- well picturing what it’d be like to have my head buried between them.”

my pussy throbs when Chris says this, his breath lingering on my neck and I gulp.

“You don’t wanna see the other sets?” I manage to get out no matter how badly his words flustered me and he smirked grabbing me by the back of my thigh setting me on our soft bed.

“mmm maybe in a bit.” He chuckles slowing pulling down the thin material letting it slide all the way past my ankles leaving me bare for him.

“shit- ur so pretty like this ma.” Chris said kissing my lips again allowing our tongues to meet moaning sloppily into each others mouths.

I didn’t even realize his fingers beginning too play with my wetness and I began to close my legs.

“Aw baby don’t hide from me, I’ll make you feel like a fucking princess I promise.” He says positioning my hands on my legs pulling them back as if we were doing missionary but that wasn’t the case he was about to fuck my shit up

Chris licked his lips hungrily waiting to taste me.

“ur pussys so pretty a shame nobody treated you right.” He says softly before his tongue presses against my clit and I whimper in response, his plump lips wrap around my clit and begin to suck as if it’s a suction cup and I moan out loudly.

“Oh shit chris!” I cry out throwing my head back as he laps up my pussy like it’s his last meal.

“fuck fuck fuckkk!” I curse out when he shakes his head allowing his nose to brush against my bud making me squeal at the way he’s eating me out, it felt so good.

Chris’s tongues plunges inside my hole occasionally making my legs nearly tremble down.

“Mmm taste so fucking good”- his hot breath on my sensitive cunt makes it pulsate and I moan out at his words crying out making sure my legs are spread enough for him.

“Chris o-oh god”- i whimper my legs begin to shake already since I’ve never felt this much pleasure at once, I only imagine what his cock would feel like.

“fuck mama your gonna cum- cum for me want it all over my face. He hand rubbing my clit before lapping again and I shudder under his touch.

“Fuck Chris I’m cumming I’m cumming!” I scream loudly curling my toes as I cream all over his face and he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck princess- squeeze ur thighs around my head yeah?” He groans and I set my legs on the bed and close them in on his head and he moans into my swollen pussy licking and sucking every last drop of my orgasm.

“Shit shit Chris I’m-I’m gonna cum again-“ I cry out and his pace doesn’t slow as he moves his head once again allowing his nose to hit that sensitive bud again feeling my stomach knot burst again almost too quickly squirting on him my legs trembling around his head.

Chris pulls away, a string of his split and my cum leaving his lips.

“god I could eat you out for hours if you let me.” He smiles and I look at him mirroring his face.

“Told you I’d make you feel like a princess.” Chris says leaning in too kiss my lips softly.

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ratatioulle @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #hearts4chriss #sturniolo smut

683 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 8 months ago

Text

Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing.

♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.

♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)

♡ W/C: 4,140

♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024

♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D

♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep.

He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties.

You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes.

That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to.

Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds.

Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom.

You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt.

You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips.

“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you.

The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently.

The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust.

You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys.

“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness

“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back.

You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg.

“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips.

“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek.

“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas

He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly.

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him

He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him.

“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source.

“Shit-“ he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you.

“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly.

“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing.

“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty.

Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it.

“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders

“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source.

“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light

“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes.

“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him.

“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot.

“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected.

“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips.

“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head

“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt.

“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you

“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted.

You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had.

“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down.

“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit

“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended.

“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased

He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained

“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway.

Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day.

People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it.

“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude.

“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage.

“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously.

“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow.

“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his.

“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away.

“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses.

“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.

You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly.

“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern.

“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me”

You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm.

“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit.

“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so.

“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously.

“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly

“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’

“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make.

“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit

“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember.

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently

He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval.

You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder.

He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy

“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently.

“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”

536 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 11 months ago

Text

Hungry Eyes-141&König NSFW

Photo Credit: @ave661

Based on a request: Can I request a headcanon of Minx Fem!Reader with 141 and König, please? Reader walking around in the base with Red dress, tight fit and high slit thigh. Blood red lipstick saying hello to them boys, salivate. Tq!! ---- F!Reader, minx!reader, 18+, MDNI, smut ----

You knew what you did to the men of the team, they did too but they can't stop it. Not like they want to anyway.

It's your day off today and what do you do? Play tricks with them, which is more like a hobby to pass the time. The first thing you do is put on some hormone oil behind your ears and rub it on your wrists. You get yourself ready, a red dress on your gorgeous body, black heels and that red lipstick that drives them crazy. What more can a girl do but watch men thirst over her beauty? Worship, that can be one thing.

John Price:

When you walk into his office so he can 'help' you zip your dress up, his breath catches in his throat.

"Everything okay?" you ask with a smirk. "Yes, uh..yes" his voice tried to play pretend while inside he would die to touch you and fuck that pretty body of yours.

As you walk past him, all he can do is stare at that ass of yours. The dress made it hard for him to miss the perfect shape of it.

He groans and walks to his office. "Where are ya going?" Gaz questions. "Have a meeting over the phone," is all Price has to say.

In his office, the blinds are drawn close, his trousers pulled to his ankle and his boxers are the only thing that keeps his dick from coming out and tempting him to please it.

"Fuck, Y/N," a groan escapes his lips and he shakes his head. His hands are on his fat cock, stroking it as he pictures those curves of yours.

His fist holding his cock tight, picturing your sweet cunt wrapped around it. Your tits bounce and that red mouth opens as you suck his fingers. What a sight it would be

"Shit...f-fuck" he stammers as pre-cum leaks down his hand.

His eyes shut close, teeth biting down his lower lip to prevent himself from moaning your name.

Before he knows it, he moans your name as he cums. His fat cock leaking the one thing he wished your cunt would be filled with.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He tries to be respectful at first but then his eyes wander your body. Hear rises and he shrugs, trying to play it cool.

When you leave the room and all men head their ways, he finds himself in his room.

As he strokes his cock, in his other hand, your pink lace panties. He sniffs them and groans, "Fuck, the things you do to me."

Your scent and the mental image this man formed of you getting fucked by him was too much that soon, he was moaning your name.

He bit down his bottom lip to prevent any more noise but knowing that maybe you could hear him moan your name was enough to make him keep going.

Just as he sniffed your panties and the smell consumed him, his cum leaked out, coating his hands and just like always, he cleaned it with your panties, something to hand to you later on.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Feral, that is the one word that smile and those curves of yours made him feel.

Those red lips were enough to have him picture your mouth wrapped around his fat cock.

Unlike the other men, Gaz was a little more smart in how he pictured you, well...he had that one picture you sent him of the aftermath of a rough mission.

The exhaustion in your face was enough to have him stroking himself, his balls tightening. Groans and small whimpers would escape when he imagined all the things he would do to you if only you gave him the chance.

The taste of your sweet cunt, that is the one thing that had him going over the edge and sending you a rather risky text.

"I know you, so just cum for me." As soon as he read the text, he leaned back on his bed, his fist pumping his every needy cock. "Fuck Y/N...such a dirty thing for me," he moans as he cums to simple orders.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

He's the pervy one, so because of this, he gets himself in your quarters, lays in your bed and undresses.

Bold, stupid, horny, sexy and smart, that is what you can describe him as since all he does lately is seem to just please himself to you.

As he lays in your bed, he pulls out his little toy. Your name is carved to the side of the fleshlight. His sensitive pressing against the entrance.

He chuckles deeply and sighs, "Let me fill you up, bonnie."

Without any hesitation, he fucks the fleshlight, his cock enjoying the sensation, his body shuddering as he positions himself on his knees, fucking his cock into the toy.

With his free hand, his phone is pressed to record. And as he records himself moaning your name over and over, he makes sure to angle the camera so you can see clearly how the toy is getting filled.

By the time he cums, the moans turn to subtle whimpers of your name and some slight curses under his breath.

König:

The built-up tension on his trousers was too much that soon, he is in a stall, sitting down and stroking himself as he tries to keep quiet.

The little red dress, the way your soft tits moved as you walked and that goddamn smile you had when you knew he was watch, fuck are you a view for hungry eyes.

His boxers get covered in pre-cum and all he can do is continue because he needs this, he needs to cum to the thought of you.

Your soft thighs, that is what he focuses on the most and as he does, he pictures his cock in between them. He would hold you from behind while his cock releases cum on your pretty thighs.

He feels his orgasm building up and he covers his mouth as he mutes the moans he wishes you heard.

His cum ruining his boxers and soon enough, he leans back and sighs.

A/N: Happy Valentines Day, enjoy this and please yourself like they did ;)

Tags: @fanofstuffidk @kas-mccoy07 @mikaronn @love-simon @imasimpsowhat06 @sae1kie @bittermajesties @cross-axis @ess-perspective @thatonepupkai @lake-lili @lovelyvqer @pasanau4 @merivalowrites @luvecarson @goldenmclaren @maylovessyou @kit-kats06 @cookiefanhere @nunezr29 @cringeycookies @liyanahelena @deni-sova @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @istillcantfindausername @iruzias @frizzseaberries @idklols @katybaby00 @spicypicklesoh @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @undercover-smutlover @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @nobodys-coffee @honestlyhiswife @enarien @simonssweetgirl @willowaftxn83-87 @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties

659 notes · View notes

minhosimthings · 9 months ago

Text

Me Quedo Mirandote || 18+

Pairings: Jake × fem!reader

Request: I dont know if you accept a req now but... fresh grad worker! (jake or hyunjin) × ojt student y/n. Y/n was assigned to (jake or hyunjin) to train her but yn like riding (jake or hyunjin) in his swivel chair. (Jake or Hyunjin)'s work desk cubicle is in kinda hidden in the corner. (cockwarming, cowgirl, softdom!(jake or hj))

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, 18+, thigh riding, degradation, 1% sir kink because I can, orgasm control eyy, cock riding, unprotected sex (zont zo it), mention of blood, fingering, praise, semi-public sex, role-play ish situation?, Use of petnames 'doll', overstimulation, dom!Jake, sub!reader, swearing, reader wears a dress

A/N: On popular demand, I decided to just copy paste my og Hyunjin work and change the names to Jake!

Hyunjin version

Never in a million years would you ever have thought that you'd be fixing your frizzied hair and ruined lipstick in your soon-to-be office's bathroom, but here you were, your lipstick three shades lighter and your white dress all ruined.

And no one would ever question how Sim Jaeyun's shirt had the exact same lipstick shade stains on it. Why would they? A playboy never loses his instincts, even if he's freshly graduated and teaching the only on- the-job student with full responsibility.

The fortunate student being you.

And it wasn't to say Jake wasn't fortunate as well. You were compliant, perhaps even exactly like him. He wondered how you had ever managed to get through your classes so well during the day and get through him during the cool intoxicating nights.

Another thing Jake was fortunate to have was his "private office". And by office, he meant his own comfortably small cubicle, which was far away from the prying eyes of his co-workers. It was weird for a fresh out of school student to have his own cubicle, but he guessed that his workplace valued privacy to an extreme level, so much so that his "office" hid discarded red laces, tainted white silks and on the job students perfectly.

"And that's how you write up a summary for the graphs of the month." Jake clapped his hands together, trying not to sound overly positive, as you stared dead eyed into the computer screen. He had been explaining the concept to you for an hour now, and although you'd been standing resting your chin on his head, you were mentally exhausted.

"Doll, you doing alright?" Jake cocked a brow at you, standing up to your level, arms going to your waist as if it was his daily routine. Well, technically it was his daily routine.

"Do I look like I'm doing alright?" You scoffed, eyes flittering between Jake's eyes and lips, "Don't I deserve a promotion for all the work I've done Sir?"

Jake's lips morphed into a slow smirk at your widened lamb eyes and your 'good girl' pout. His hands gripped into your skin tighter, as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"You're just a student Y/N. I can't give you a promotion so quick." He smirked into the nape of your neck, knowing what was coming next. How couldn't he? With how many times, his favourite 'employee' had begged on her knees to get a 'promotion'.

"But sir haven't I been a good girl?" You whispered, staring at Jake's plump lips, "I even wore the dress you bought me." You motioned towards your clearly visible cleavage in your summer dress, one of Jake's most favourite sights for his eyes to ogle at any day.

Your hands went up to his luscious locks of hair, two flicks framing his face perfectly. God, his hair was as soft as cotton, you thought, a complete contrast to how he behaved once you were suffocating his length with your pussy.

Jake's hands slid down to your ass and pulled your hips against his body, your hand pressing against his desk. It made the dress you were wearing ride up your thighs, exposing your panties. His hot lips moved away from yours and down to your neck, kissing and gently biting the delicate skin. You let out a little gasp and arched your neck, it felt divine.

“Doll, with the way you're gasping now, I wonder what you'd do once I actually start with the usual." Jake chuckled darkly, pressing a rough, carnivorous kiss to your lips, "fuck—be a good girl for me now."

Jake pulled away from the kiss and sat back on his chair, leaning as prosaic as he could against it, and rubbing his hand over his thigh, ever so cordially inviting you over to him. Why would you ever refuse? It was your favourite place to be at any chance you got. Some days, that's the only place you wanted to be, on a hot lazy day, when you wanted nothing more than Jake to shut up about presentations and slides and spread out his leg for you.

You manoeuvred yourself so that your covered but damp core met with Jake's thigh, the hem of your dress gracefully swooped over his thigh, as you parted your legs enough to let your clit brushing against the fabric. The contact caused your mouth to fall open in a silent sigh.

"Already?" Jake clicked his tongue, "That's sort of pathetic don't you think doll?"

From this angle you looked pretty to Jake with your head thrown back, pupils blown out with lust and a prominent blush on your face. It made the animalistic side in Jake ravenous for more.

Jake adjusted his position on the chair, your loud mewl made him chuckle and press a kiss to your forehead. You hands went up to grip his soft, ebony hair, which was tied perfectly in a ponytail. Well, tied perfectly, until you ran your hands through the follicles, throwing the hair band off, and continuing to grip his open hair tightly. Your grip made Jake silently moan.

"Feel that?" He lifted a cocky brow at your pleasured expression, "It's just for you, doll."

Slowly you began rocking your hips back and forth, letting your clit get maximum friction against the clothed barriers. Your hands gripped at his shirt now tightly, leaving tiny creases all along as you chased your release.

Somewhere along the way, Jake had abandoned his work and had turned all of his attention on you, gripping your hips harshly, digging marks, guiding it along his thigh while pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. The chair was creaking worse than a wooden bed, but there wasn't a care in the world for that.

Jake's hands move up your thighs towards your hips pushing you harder against his thigh gaining more melodic moans from your mouth.

You rut yourself faster against him, moaning louder and louder until you finally reach what you thought was your peak.

"Jake," you whined, his kisses descend even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.

"Fuck," you sigh out, when Jake grabs your breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, his hands moving your hips harder and faster against him, your orgasm building swiftly at his actions.

"Beg for it darling." Jake's sadistic smile hit your face, "Be a good slut, and beg for your cum."

"Yeunnie—fuck!" You moaned out as his thigh gave a little flick upwards, "please Jake—"

"So desperate," he mumbles, tone laced with dominance, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you.

"So wet," he adds, doing as you asked and sliding his finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against.

"Come for me," he husks out, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching, as your legs trembled, hips rocking at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on his thigh at the exhaustion of coming so hard.

Your chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath, as you steadied yourself on Jake's thigh, leaning your head towards his shoulder, from how dizzy you were. Being a cowgirl really took a lot of energy from you.

As you were getting ready to stand up, you felt Jake's arm grip yours tightly.

"So soon, pretty?" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, biting your lip, he could taste salty blood on them, "I'm not even half done."

“Come here,” Jake demanded as he pulled your arm. You move around from the back of the chair as he pushes it out a bit from the table.

“Oh baby. Aren’t you just deliciously naughty?” he says as his finger slips in between your folds to find you positively dripping. “Is this all for me?” he asks as he starts to rub your clit in slow circular movements. The stimulation was killing you, yet you obliged, dumbly nodding along to Jake's words.

“So greedy,” he whispers. He slips his finger from your pussy, his hands come up to your shoulders, and he pushes the dress off of them.

“Come here and sit on my cock,” he says with that lopsided smirk you love so much.

Lifting yourself up a little, you line him up with your entrance, and then you sit back down and let him slide into your wet, needy pussy. Filling you so perfectly. Stretching you completely. You slowly sink down onto him, as he grips your waist harder, holding you down.

“You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest.

“Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

"Fuck,” Jake groans. And then you start to move. Slowly, up and down. Your hands rest on his hair for leverage as you bounce yourself on his cock.Your tight grip on his hair makes Jake throw his head back slightly, his eyes almost rolling to the back with the sheer amount of pleasure he was recieving from your hands running through his locks.

"Fuck—baby keep doing that." He mumbles, not even sure if you've heard it, you probably did as was evident from your now tighter grip, your fingers dancing their pretty ballet through Jake's velvety hair.

Jake grabs a tight hold of your hips, and he lifts you up a little before he starts to thrust up into you. Harder and faster than you managed. Pounding into you over and over.

"Fuck—Jake!" You gasp, a little louder than usual, "touch me—please."

Your begs elated Jake, how could he refuse? He shakes his hand from your hip and presses his fingers to your cunt. His motions on your clit are as frantic as his thrusts into you.

Pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And with a final buck into you so deep that he nudged your cervix as his thumb pressed down on your clit, you both cum. Hard and fast.

Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his cock. The orgasm rips through you at such intensity that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you scream out his name. His cock twitches as his cum spurts inside you.

Jake tilts his head to rest on your chest as he tries to catch his breath, and he moans out your name. You kiss him softly at the top of his head. Your fingers are raking through his hair as you try to calm your own breathing down to normal.

"You've made such a mess." Jake chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, "my messy girl."

"How about those graphs now, Mr Sim?" You asked, a tint of cockishness smeared in your voice.

"Graphs?" Jake laughed, gripping your hips again.

"We're not even a quarter done yet, doll."

402 notes · View notes

yovrnewromantic · 2 months ago

Text

PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER

Sleepy Sam needs your help to make it into the motel room after a long hunt. Thinking he’s dreaming, he says some things he means. warnings: drowsy confession. dean leaves to get food as usual. use of y/n. fluff. idiots to lovers. friends to lovers.

"You are so much heavier than you look."

Outside the door of a trashy motel room, Sam has his face buried into the nape of your neck. One of his hands is braced against the brick wall while the other is secured loosely on your waist while you fiddle with the room key.

The entirety of his weight has been on you since you tugged him out of the passenger seat, barely holding him up as Dean drove away under the ruse of grabbing some food. His lazy ass just wanted to make you carry his brother to bed-- not that you could complain, being this close to Sam was heaven.

You've only been traveling with the brothers for a few months, but you couldn't help the gnawing feeling of a crush whenever you looked at Sam for too long. It was like a breath of fresh air, standing beside him in the darkest of moments and feeling safe even though you know you shouldn't.

With a hip on the door, you bite your lip, willing yourself not to think about the position you are in. It reminds you of college-- watching drunk couples struggle to get inside their dorms late at night when they couldn't decide between making out or properly opening the door.

But you and Sam weren't a couple. And he wasn't drunk, just tired.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, voice barely audible and kind. His hot breath tickles your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks and you're grateful that his lanky body has created a shadow over you to hide your blush.

"It's okay," you chide, trying to focus your attention on the tricky lock rather than brushing the hair covering his slow-blinking puppy dog eyes. "Just try to stay awake for me until we get you in bed. Okay, Sammy?"

Softly, he releases an agreeable hum into your shoulder. The vibrations send a pleasurable chill down your back. Goosebumps form on your arms.

The blue neon Motel sign flickers. In the split second of darkness, with pure luck, you finally probe the key into the lock and twist.

Pushing the door open with a harsh kick, you're surprised Sam doesn't completely collapse as you walk. Instead, he holds onto you desperately as you help him to bed.

Blood and grime are buried underneath your fingertips as you maneuver the vomit-beige comforter over top of him, yanking it up past his jeans and to his chest like you're tucking in a child. You can't help but smile down at Sam adoringly. Honestly, you feel like a creep, but when else would get the chance to stare at him so blatantly without him noticing or Dean's tease.

You wrinkle your nose at the clinging feeling of fabric and sweat on your back and reluctantly turn away from Sam to go take a shower. A hand wraps around your wrist weakly yet surprisingly firm. Sam murmurs something in audible, tugging your wrist.

“Hey, sleeping beauty," you whisper, giggling.

His eyelids flutter, barely opening as he sighs when he sees your face, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Y/N.”

“Hi,” you breathe, titling your head at the exhausted and strangely worried expression on Sam’s face. He yanks your wrist, and you stumble, letting out a small curse as you catch yourself on the side of the mattress. “No, Sammy. I’ve gotta shower.”

“Please.”

His little whine has your heart breaking into shattered little pieces. It takes a lot for you to escape his grip, physically and mentally. Pursing your lips, you will the pounding of your heart to calm down.

“One sec. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

There's a pregnant beat of silence as you force your feet to move rather than stay looking at Sam -- you don't know if you'll be able to look away if you keep staring. The quiet is filled with the idle clapping of your shoes and the small creak of the bathroom door as you take one half-glance back at Sam before you step past the threshold, slowly shutting the door as to not make any noise and wake him from his oncoming slumber.

Then, you hear it, muffled through the white-painted wooden door. They're small and sound slurred together, but you hear them and you're unsure if you're the one dreaming.

“I love you.”

For a brief moment, you’re frozen in place, making eye contact with your wide eyes in mirror where you’re holding your breath. The bathroom door whips open, silver handle knocking against the eggshell white motel walls.

Pulse in your ears, you exit the bathroom, breathless. “What did you say?”

I love you.

The three words ring in your ears like a new form of tinnitus, forsaking your traumatic days and replacing them with something much scarier.

You feel pale as a ghost, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks, as stark contrast to the blasting AC that was determined to freeze your bones.

Immediately, your gaze finds Sam, begging him to respond.

The tips of his eyelashes are prodding into his cheeks, his lips gaping. Chest rising and falling in even breaths. He’s asleep.

“No, no, no.” You rush to the bed, not even flinching when your knee bumps into the corner of the frame. Leaning over Sam, you repeatedly pat his cheek, urging him to wake up. His skin glows pink under your feverish touch. “You can’t go asleep on me, Sam! Wake up.”

He sits up, eyes darting around the room, confused, voice rasping with sleep, almost raw. “What?”

One look at your face and he’s placing a hand gently on your forearm. It sets your skin on fire. “What’s wrong?”

“Say it again,” you demand. Say it to me so I can say it back.

His brows furrow. “Say what again?" His thumb starts to rub circles on your arm. Sam looks so beautiful you feel like you might die. "What happened, baby?”

Baby.

Your stomach flutters. Swallowing, you plead for your throat to wet so the words will come out without burning. “Say you love me.”

His eyes widen, the whites of his making his hazel eyes stand out even more, the raw lighting in the motel makes it looks like hearts are forming in the highlights of his eyes.

His lips part, head tilting, and his eyes flickering across your face, as if he's trying to commit you-- this moment -- to memory. They pause at your lips then they're back at your eyes.

“I love you.”

Instantaneously, your lips find his.

His find yours.

The kiss is helpless and sloppy. Each of your lips plump and lazy with sleep, tongues peeking for a taste, hands searching for anything that would provide stability. Somehow, you make your way into his lap, arms thrown around the back of his neck, hanging onto the headboard.

Sam breaks away from you, but not for long. Forehead resting against yours. Him panting. “I thought I was dreaming.”

You cannot stifle a giggle, pecking his lips, relishing in how his chase after yours. “Yeah? You dream of me often, Sammy?”

“When I’m lucky.”

i’m gonna be honest, i’ve only watched like ten episodes of spn and read a bunch of ffs so if this inaccurate i’m so sorry. But these puppy eyes have been haunting me

forget this in my drafts tbh

296 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.

Not happening.

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.

She’s clearly looking for Solana.

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.

And that’s not the case.

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.”

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”

Dulce barks in response.

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.

He got the blueprint from Roman.

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma.

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.

Protectiveness.

It feels like he’s being protective of her.

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.”

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that.

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.

So unlike her.

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing.

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later.

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies.

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.

It’s just the calm.

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!poc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

218 notes · View notes

thirstywoso · 5 months ago

Text

Forget about your girlfriend - Jessie Fleming x Reader 18+

W/C: 2.2k

Synopsis: Reader falls for Jessie after realising her relationship has ran its course

A/N: Just here for the angst, having a weird ass time at the minute and wanted to write something that wasn't so fluffy and was more shitty of reader

Warnings: cheating MDNI 18+, Oral, Fingering (giving and receiving) , strap (receiving), I can't think of anything else because if I'm honest I rushed the end of this and probably got repetitive because I'm so mentally and physically exhausted. Hopefully some better fics are coming I just wanted to put something out for y'all even if it was a rush job.

Your relationship had been on the rocks for awhile, the love you once shared had begun to dwindle, the fun you used to share gone, romantic gestures all but a distant memory.

You stayed though, out of convenience. A break up would be too much hassle and staying together would make you feel less lonely.

That was until Jessie had moved to Portland, you'd heard of her but hadn't ever met before. Yet you hit it off straight away, the way she knew exactly what to say to make you laugh.

How even when you were having an off day she could read you and cheer you up, she just got you in away that nobody had before.

Of course you felt guilty you loved your girlfriend, just Jessie added something to your life that you felt was missing.

That's what brought you to tonight, after innocent flirting and months of getting closer with Jessie you'd gone straight to her after a heated fight with your girl.

Your eyes were brimming with tears and she pulled you into a hug, tightly holding you. It's when you pulled back and looked into her deep brown eyes that you knew you were fucked, the tension all too much.

Pulling her closer your eyes dart between her lips and her eyes, a sudden rush coming over you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Then it was too late, your lips were on hers and her hands were on your hips. Pulling you tight. Biting on your lip to ground herself trying to control the urge to pull you to the bedroom.

Your hands began roaming along her back not letting her pull away, until you needed to breathe.

"Do you want me to stop?.. if you do please say because if we keep going I don't think I will be able to stop myself" she states matter of fact.

You nod your head pulling her back in, arms running along her shoulder blades dragging down until your finger tips are running along her waist. Her actions mirroring yours as you fall deeper into each other.

She begins to pull off your shirt looking at you to double check you were still okay, your eyes meet and you violently nod your head. The look on Jessie's face sending a pulse to your core.

Without a second thought you began ripping each others clothing off discarding all over Jessie's apartment floor before she held your jaw pulling you with her toward her bedroom.

Getting through the door she twists you around pushing you as you step back toward her bed, your calves meeting the end of her bed as she shoves you backwards.

Your head falling into her pillows, her scent overwhelming as you stare up at her longingly.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you forget your name" she says so causally

"This is your last chance to stop or I'm going to have you whimpering my name and not hers" she offers

"Prove it" you give

That's all Jessie needed to hear as her lips were back on yours in a heated kiss, that then trialed across your cheek and down your neck, feather light kisses and kitten licks of her tongue follow the column of your neck.

Your core beginning to feel like molten lava

"Please" you whimper out as her hand snakes between the two of you, slowly making its way to where you so badly needed her.

"Fuck" she gasps gathering the wetness on her finger tips "do you get this wet for her?" She almost laughs

"Just for you Jessie" you whimper out as her fingers circle your bundle of nerves.

"What's that baby? She doesn't make you this wet? Speak up for me" she mocks her fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck.. only you make me this wet Jessie" you moan, head falling back into the pillows eyes rolling back at the delicious stretch she provided you.

Jessie whispering sweet nothings in your ear as her fingers curl deeper "you look so fucking good like this" she groans into your neck" you cry out at her words needing more.

Grabbing onto her hair you begin to push her down, she knows exactly what you want as she trails kisses down your stomach. Blowing gently on your core she removes her fingers before sucking them into her own mouth. Tasting you for the first time, her eyes roll back drunk on your taste.

You laugh down at her "good?" You question.

"You wanna try yourself?" She responds with a nod, dipping her fingers back into you before pulling them out dripping in your arousal.

Wiping her finger tips along your bottom lip before thrusting them into your waiting tongue so you could taste yourself.

You gush at the idea of her fingers fucking your throat and you begin to make a show of cleaning them. Head bobbing up and down gagging on her digits.

She chuckles to herself as she leans down kissing your core, soft at first but then more hungry, kisses to your clit followed by swipes of her tongue through you folds until she is overtaken by want.

He tongue dives into you, furiously fucking you in a frenzy your entrance pulsing around her as her nose bumps into your bundle of nerves.

Your hands find her hair tugging at it as your mouth falls open a silent scream erupting from deep in your throat as she hits the spot you need her most.

Jessie groans into your wet heat adding her ring and middle finger once more, joining her tongue as they dive inside you making your toes curl and eyes screw shut.

Lifting off the bed your hips begin to buck into her mouth and fingers trying to pull her closer into you, your free hand screwing up the sheets beneath you.

Retracting her tongue she begins to suckle on your folds and make her way to your clit that she sucks between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it repeatedly.

Humming to herself at the shake in your legs and repeating the motion, you can't help but whimper as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Before you know it you are falling off the edge and Jessie is back by your head kissing you, overwhelming you with your own flavour.

Her hand is gently caressing your thigh and her lips begin to leave a trail of feather light kisses on your neck as you catch your breath.

"Wow that was something else" you manage to puff out with a slight giggle.

"You look so pretty when you cum y/n, I could watch the way your face screws up and mouth hangs open on repeat" she admits nipping at your ear lobe

"Then make me do it again" you whisper in a tone that almost sounds like a question.

"Mmm yeah?" She says shifting onto her elbow looking down at you. "You want to come apart on my cock?"

You nod your head pulling her in for a kiss, when she pulls back you let her know exactly what you want "Please Jess, fuck me"

She doesn't need to be told twice, grabbing one of her favourite straps from the draw she secures it to her waist before kneeling in front of you again as your legs involuntarily spread for her.

She rubbed the tip along your slit gently before leaning down to kiss you as her length slid past your entrance hitting your throbbing clit and back, repeating this motion as she gently rocked her hips into you as your kiss became more feverish.

She sucked down gently on your tongue as your hands found their way to her shoulders and raked gently up and down her back.

As your tongues battled for dominance you reached between the two of you finding the base of Jessie's newest appendage and angling it so the tip stretched at your opening on Jessie's next thrust.

"Please, I need you inside me, Jessie I want to be so full of you please" you beg her, knowing you needed to feel her stretch you open.

As your hands grab back onto her shoulders Jessie's cock fills you to the hilt, both of you letting out shuddering breaths.

The two of you realising how deep inside you she is, scared to move knowing that there is no turning back now. Your eyes flutter at the feeling of being full of her as she groans just imagining the way you are pulsing around her the same way you did on her fingers.

After a deep breath she pulls back until only the tip is stretching your entrance before slamming her hips back down causing you to grunt, enjoying your reaction she does it again her eyes rolling back at the hitch in your throat as she grinds into you.

"You're taking me so well pretty girl" she praises you as she fills you up again.

Your eyes roll back at her words as she quickens her pace, her finger tips making quick rhythm across your clit.

It had been so long since you had felt this good and the pang of guilt you had subsided pretty quickly once Jessie's lips attached themselves to your neck.

"Forget about your girlfriend" she whispers into your ear, you were so drawn to Jessie that you didn't even remember her name which you knew was so bad, but something inside you just didn't care.

"You are such a bad girl but look at you being a good girl for me" she whispers in your ear nibbling on your ear lobe for emphasis.

The pleasure from her strap nudging against your most needy spot and her little pants and words of encouragement in your neck drove you straight to the edge.

Pulling back she looked into your eyes her speed in thrusts and clit stimulation increasing

"That's it baby, cum for me" she groans as she grabs your ankles angling deeper inside you pushing you over the edge, her longing stare into her eyes driving you feral.

Your nails clawing down her back as you cum on her thick cock, she giggles slightly into your neck as she collapse atop you.

After some time you both start to move, Jessie peeling herself off of you and cuddling you into her.

Your hand traces soft patterns across her exposed skin, before dragging the strap on off of where she had secured it. Discarding it somewhere in the room before your hand found purchase between her legs once more, dipping your fingers between her folds you gather some of her wetness.

The slide of your fingers mixed with the way you could feel her dripping made you crazy, it wasn't long before you sunk your fingers in knuckle deep. Causing both of you to groan out.

"So wet for me Jessie" you half laugh half groan

"Does she get this wet for you baby?" Jessie smirks which you quickly wipe off her face with an overly eager curl of your fingers and a delicate kiss to the edge of her mouth.

Pumping your fingers in harder you kiss her, swallowing her moans as you feel her walls flutter around your digits.

A particularly delicious curl sent her eyes rolling back and her mouth agape, she looked so fucking beautiful so open and relaxed for you.

Kissing along her jaw and neck, biting, sucking and soothing with your tongue repeatedly as you add another digit.

Jessie stretching around you further, worked up from seeing you come undone and from the stimulation the bottom of the strap provided her clit it wasn't long until you had her on the precipice.

One powerful and skill full curl and scissor of your fingers sent her careening off the edge you'd placed her on, kissing her face and neck repeatedly as she shuddered and came down from her high.

Once you'd both caught your breath you were soon wrapped in each other warm embrace.

You hadn't felt so content and safe in such a long time that you began to cry.

"What's wrong baby?" She asks using the pad of her thumb to wipe away your tears.

"I think I know what to do" you say dryly

"...end things" you carry on noticing Jessie's raised elbow

Leaning down she places a kiss on your forehead and rubs your cheek

"Whatever you do or do not decide to do, I will be here for you" she reaffirms

"I love you Jess" you whisper

You think she whispers it back but your eyes were heavy and you drifted into a sleep tucked up in her arms, overwhelmed with her scent from the bed sheets and her proximity. You'd never felt so safe and cared for and you couldn't help the sleep taking over.

#woso #woso x reader #jessie fleming #jflem #wofo #woso imagine #portland thorns #women's football #women's soccer #canwnt #jessie fleming smut #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming imagine #woso smut #women's soccer fiction

241 notes · View notes

f1fantasys · 8 months ago

Text

Miami GP 2

Part 2 - THE WIN!

Part 1 link

Summary - finally the win!

Warnings - unprotected sex, p in v, swearing

Finally, it was race day. Your alarm woke you up at 6.30am. As much as you were excited for the day, you were exhausted. Physically and mentally. All thanks to a certain Lando Norris. Physically, last night was filled with rough but passionate sex - the best kind before race day. It really got the adrenaline going for Lando so he always went all-out with pre race sex. He really worked a number on your last night. Mentally, because if the two of you weren't having sex, things were not as great as they were before. No more lingering looks or touches, or even just fooling around. You barely knew what to say to each other or how to act around each other. It was getting frustrating to be honest. You wished you could tell Lando how you felt but were too scared to hear him brush off the mere thought of being something more than fwb with him. You heart ached as you watched him leave you room, yet again, after round 3 last night. But you needed to tell them - lay all your cards on the table and see where is head was at. It was becoming too much.

You spent the first half of the day with the F1 Academy girlies. It was so much fun and refreshing. And by 2pm you made your way to the Mclaren garage - where you would be watching the race from.

Lando had texted you saying he wanted to see you before the race, so you quickly made your way to his drivers' room and knocked on the door.

''Come in'' he yelled.

''Hey Lan'' you said as you walked in and shut the door behind you.

''Hey you, how was your morning?'' he asked, still looking down at his phone. But when he looked up and saw what you were wearing, his mouth fell agape.

''It was really good. Its incredible what's happening with the F1 Academy'' you said as you sat down next to him.

But he wasn't listening to you. He was still staring at your body.

''Lan'' you laughed, clicking your fingers in front of his face. ''Eyes up here'' you cooed.

''Huh? Shit sorry'' he apologized. ''You just look so good in that skirt and top, fuck'' he said, biting his lower lip.

Hearing that, or rather seeing him bite his lip made you clench your thighs together. Within seconds he was pulling you onto his lap and kissing you senseless, hands roaming you body, eventually settling at your ass.

You started moaning into the kiss, not getting enough of him, while his tongue found its way through your open lips. ''Hmmm, you taste so good'' he murmured. It quickly was getting hotter by the second. Lando's hands shimmied up your skirt to found that yet again you were wearing no panties.

''No panties, again, Y/N?'' he asked. ''And already dripping wet for me as if I didn't get you off enough last night'' he smirked into the kiss.

''Shut up'' you smiled at him, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. It was Jon.

''Lando, time to get ready, hurry.

''Fuck'' Lando whispered. '''Wish I could fuck you here and now but you'll have to wait until later babe.''

''Be out in a minute Jon'' he called back to him.

You pulled back from the kiss and looked at Lando in his eyes, which were shining as beautiful as ever today.

''Good luck for the race Lan, I know you'll do well'' you said, pecking his lips again.

''Thanks Y/N, I'm sure I'll do well with you here as my lucky charm'' he smiled back.

God, it was infuriating climbing off of him with no release. He wasn't joking when he said you were soaking wet. It was like your cunt was on overdrive for him.

You both quickly made yourselves look presentable and gave each other one last kiss before walking out back into the garage.

You took your seat at one of the tv's as you watched Lando suit up and get ready to jump into the car to take it to the grid.

And what a race it was turning out to be. It was currently lap 52 of 57 and with each moment your hopes were getting higher and higher. This was it. Lando was seriously about to take his first GP win. It was almost unbelievable. But you had to calm yourself down until the end at least.

By the time it was the last lap and Lando was still leading, obviously going to win by now because of the 7 second gap between him and Max, your heart was beating out of your chest.

All the mechanics in the Mclaren garage were tense but filled with excitement in their faces. You just held onto the hand of your friend Lissie, squeezing her painfully hard no doubt, but you needed to.

''Fuck, Lissie he's actually going to do it'' you laughed at your friend. Tears already stinging the corners of your eyes.

And in no time, Lando crossed the chequered flag. You couldn't do anything but scream with pride and joy. Tears and smiles. It was the most incredible feeling ever. Being this happy for someone whom you adored so much. It was finally his time to shine. He bloody waited long enough for it. But you were so proud you could burst.

Cheers in the garage, screams and laughter, it was an electric feeling. Everyone so happy that the boy had done it. But so emotional at the same time.

You heard Lando on the team radio, thanking everyone. Mostly surprised that he even said your name. He was ecstatic and you couldn't wait to just jump in his arms and see the smile on his face.

Quickly everyone started making their way to wait for Lando to get out of the car. You waited back, not wanting to draw attention. But Zak quickly noticed you and pulled you by the arms behind him.

You watched as Lando took his helmet off and wow, to see that smile on his face - you would never every forget that look. He ran towards his mechanics and threw himself into their arms, crowd surfing them.

And when you saw how he hugged Zak and Andrea, your heart clenched. You were so proud at how proud they were of him. Everyone absolutely adored him.

It was when his eyes locked onto yours that you felt all the air leave your lungs. He gave you the brightest smile you had seen all day and you couldn't help but lunge yourself forward in his arms.

Pulling him impossibly closer and playing with his curls that were filled with sweat - but you didn't care.

''You did it, Lando! I'm so fucking happy for you. Fuck'' you whispered in his ear.

''Y/N, I did it!'' he giggled, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek before he was being pulled away for an interview.

''See you in a bit in my drivers' room'' he told you quickly.

''Have fun on the podium babe'' you squealed.

Watching Lando talk through his interview then finally take his step on the 1st place podium was a feeling like no other. His beaming eyes found yours, standing in the crowd and he gave you a wink.

When he finally was given his trophy and medal you felt like you ears were ringing. Everyone was chanting his name. ''Lando! Lando!'' It was no secret he was one of the most loved drivers out there but this just put into perspective just how much people loved him as a person.

And boy did that champagne pop go off like a bomb. His signature move, blasting the bottle on the ground to inevitably let that spray reach the sky. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face even if you tried.

As the podium ceremony finished off you made your way back to the garage, Jon had told you Lando had about 10 minutes until interviews were to start, and no doubt he asked Jon to tell you to wait in his drivers' room.

Sitting there waiting for him to decided that you would enjoy the night, and talk to him tomorrow. By now you were convinced he felt the same way about you.

Finally, finally. Lando rushed through the door and locked it behind him. He turned back to you, biggest boyish grin ever.

''Fucking number 1 baby'' he yelled as he scooped you up and spun the two of you around.

'Number 1 and only the beginning. Well done!'' you said, taking his face into your hands and bending down to lock lips. Teeth and tongues clashes, fighting for dominance. It was like you were both starved of each other.

''Ahhh I can't stop smiling'' he laughed into the kiss.

''Don't stop'' you told him. ''Never looked better Lan, keep smiling and shining'' you said as you felt your tears of happiness start to creep up again.

''Fuck baby don't cry'' he told you, a worried look on his face.

''Can't Lan, I'm so fucking happy. You deserve this and so much more. I'm just glad I could be here to witness it'' you gushed at him.

''I wouldn't have it any other way. Told you you were my lucky charm'' he said, bringing his lips to yours once again.

Until Jon knocked at the door again and called Lando for his interviews.

''See you in a bit'' he said kissing you one last time.

You were all due to fly back to England tonight, but there was no way that was happening, and you eventually learned that all flights had been rescheduled to tomorrow so Lando could celebrate with you all.

By the time interviews and everything was done, it was time to go back to the hotel and get ready for a dinner and then clubbing, obviously.

You really wanted to make an impression so you chose your best mini dress. Black, tight, barely holding your boobs in, lacey and skimpy. You know you looked hot in it.

When you opened the door to Lando his eyes were stuck on you. Mouth open in awe. He looked like he wanted to ravish you right there and then. All you could do was laugh and pull him in your room. You still had a few minutes until you had to go down to leave for dinner so you quickly pushed hum to sit down on the couch and straddle him.

Lando grabbed your waist and pushed your ass against his already hard crotch.

''Grand prix winner'' you whispered as you started nibbling on his neck.

He smiled. ''Remind me to win next time so I get to see you wear something as sexy as this again'' he winked at your.

Again, you heart clenched. This time with hope because he indirectly told you that you'd be there with him the next time you won. But also with fear of your situation-ship ending before then.

But tonight was about celebrating, so you weren't going to let the negative thoughts take over. You kissed Lando deep and hard and started grinding down on him when his phone rang.

''Fuck we need to go'' he whispered as he pulled you in for one last suck of your tongue.

Dinner was filled with delicious food, expensive wine and lots of tears and laughs from speeches. You were sat next to Lando and his hand stayed on your thigh all throughout dinner.

Finally though, it was actually time to celebrate.

You'd made your way along with the other drivers and friends to a fancy upbeat club in Miami. The music was loud in your ears and the drinks were freely flowing. Lando, of course being the center of attention, but also being glued to you like a magnet.

At one point you were dancing with Carmen, Alex and Kika when Lando found you in the crowd, his hands immediately finding their place on your hips as your bodies swayed together. It didn't take long for you to start grinding you ass against his crotch, while he was whispering dirty nothings in your ear, though you could hardly hear him with the music so loud.

More shots later and his lips were tracing your neck. You wanted, no needed, to feel him in you. You couldn't wait any longer. But it was also too early to leave the club and not continue celebrating.

SO, you dragged him to his car and straddled him yet again. Pulling his lips to yours for a feverish kiss. He sucked on your bottom lips way harder than he'd ever done but you didn't care.

Quickly, Lando started pulling your boobs out of your dress. ''Please don't rip this dress'' you begged, as he chuckled. ''Trust me, I'll only do that once we get back to the hotel'' he smirked at you.

Your boobs now free, being massaged, tugged on, sucked on and licked by his every amazing tongue, while your hands pulled on his curls, urging him on. But it wasn't enough. You were already like freaking Niagra Falls down there, and you had to be filled, and soon!

You lifted yourself off him so he could undo his zipper of his jeans and pull them down just enough to let his throbbing dick out, pre-cum already leaking out of it. You gathered what you could on your finger and bought it up to your lips, moaning at the taste. His taste.

''Oh fuck. Yeah, you're gonna end me tonight'' Lando said as his hands found their way up your dress, breath hitching when he felt you weren't wearing underwear, as always.

''Please Lando, fuck me. I need to feel you fill me up. No foreplay today'' you begged him. And who was he to refuse that.

He tugged on his cock and stroked it a few times along your folds, gathering up your juices before sliding into you in one go.

''Ý.N, Fuck, shit, how are you this wet for me?'' he asked, as you started to pick up pace, bouncing up and down on his dick.

''God, Lando, feels so good, harder, please'' you said between breathes.

He immediately started meeting you half way, pounding into you, all while sucking on your nipples and pinching them between his fingers.

''Taking my dick so well, so tight and so wet for me''

''All for you Lando, all for you'' you whispered.

''Tell me who is fucking you this good'' he roughly whispered, grabbing your hair tightly and burying his face in your boobs, nuzzling his way between them.

All you did was let out a moan, but that wasn't the answer he was looking for. He quickly stopped his movements, bring you to sit still on his cock.

''Fuck Lando, I was so close,why did you stop?'' you moaned, trying to move under his strong hands but to no avail.

''Fucking me who's fucking you so good, making you feel so good?'' he all but shouted. You were sure if people were walking past the car they would have heard that.

''Fuck, Lando. You. Fucking Grand Prix Race Winner, fuck'' you said, trying to boost his ego so he's give you what you want.

He smirked at you. ''That's better.'' and he quickly found the pace again. Or rather, he let you find the pace. Riding him like your life depended on it. You felt the familiar warmth in your stomach start to build up. Lando knew you were close because your walls started clenching around him, almost painfully so. He bought his finger down to your clit and rubbed at it harshly. And that was all it took. You released, moaning and praising his name, legs feeling like jelly. But he didn't slow his movements.

''I know you have one more in you for now at least. Come on, Y/N, cum with me with time.''

Lando's slams into you were getting sloppier and sloppier by the second. You could take he was close as were you.

''Fuck, Lan, almost there'' you moaned.

''Yes baby, come on'' he grunted, and just as you felt yourself let you, you felt Lando's warm splutter inside of you. Now, your body really like jelly and he had to hold on to you, both breathless and smiling.

''Fuck, that was incredible'' he said, lips touching yours as he spoke.

''Uh-huh'' was all your mind could come up with.

''Can't wait to fuck you again at the hotel, have you screaming my name and not being able to even walk after I'm done with you.

The though alone had you already clenching your thighs together.

Lando's hand slipped up your dress again, collecting all the mixture of yours and his juices and bough this hand to hips lips, licking his fingers clean. ''Hmmm'' he smirked at you, while you watched with your mouth slightly agape. He looked so fucking hot.

You both giggled as you slipped your boobs back into your dress and fixed your hair, trying to make yourselves looks presentable again.

You walked back into the club, hand in hand. Something that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

Charles walked straight up to the two of you and smirked. ''The two of your are fucking, aren't you?''

You couldn't help but feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, secretly getting more adrenaline from being caught.

''Umm-'' you started, but Lando cut you off.

''Fucking, yes, but if you say anything to anyone I'll cut your balls off'' he smirked at Charles.

Charles held up his hands and smiled. ''Secret's safe with me, but I'm glad the two of you finally sorted your shit out together.'' he said as he walked away.

''Well shit, everyone's gonna know now'' he whispered to you as more drinks found their way to you.

The night was well and truly amazing. Dancing, singing laughing, KISSING, grinding, celebrating a moment that will go down in history forever.

It was now stumbling upon 3am when you found yourself in a taxi back to the hotel with Lando. To say you were both horny as fuck was an understatement. But the amount of alcohol you both consumed was starting to take its toll.

It started with a lazy make out session in the taxi, all the way to the hotel. You could hardly even walk by now, so somehow, Lando managed to carry you up to your room.

As soon as the door shut, it was like a burst of energy filled your bodies. Not saying anything to each other, your stripped your clothes off and threw yourselves on the bed, Lando on top of you.

He started licking and sucking on your neck, nose, lips, everywhere he could get his mouth to, while his fingers quickly found your cunt, dripping wet, eager for more.

He slid his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and bought them up to your lips. Knowing what he wanted, you took his fingers in your mouth and licked them clean. All he did was groan at the sight.

He returned them to your cunt and with no warning slid 3 fingers in a once.

''Oh God, Lan'' you panted as he was hitting all the right spots immediately, while his mouth was violently slaughtering your nipples.

You managed you find your way into his boxers, pushing them down with your legs as you took his thick girth into your hands, pumping him a few times.

He was already painfully hard, and within a minute he stopped all movements.

''Lan'' you begged.

''Wanna try something new. Wanna fuck your boobs. We've never done that before.''

''Fuck, yes, hurry'' you replied.

Lando pumped himself a few times before sliding his dick between your boobs, and you took them in your own hands and squeezed them together, tightening the place for his cock as much as possible.

He was fucking them so hard that you were sure you could cum just from the sounds you both were making. Every time his tip peaked through the top, you gave him a lick, earning delicious moans from his mouth.

''Fuck Y/N, tell me why we haven't done this before. It feels so fucking amazing.''

''So good Lando, yes, please'' you begged, not sure what for.

You could tell he was getting close by his sloppy movements and the look on his face, necklace dangling almost in your face.

''Need to taste you, please, cum in my mouth.'' you begged.

''Shit, ok, sit up'' he pulled you up and took a hold of your head in his hands, while you took his dick in your mouth straight way, as deep as you could, already gagging and feeling the tears coming.

Now he was fucking into you mouth so hard that you had to hold onto his thighs for support.

''Yes baby, taking me so well, blowing me so well'' he said as he watched you, definitely a sight for sore eyes.

He was getting close again, and you could feel your saliva sliding out of you mouth.

''Fuck I'm gonna-'' and before he could finish his sentence he was emptying his load to the back of your throat. You swallowed every last drop and licked him clean before pulling back to try to get you breathing to normal.

But he didn't even give you the chance. Lando lifted your body up and turned you around so you were on all fours.

''Better hold on to the head-board baby, gonna fuck you senseless now.'' he said. You could practically hear the smirk he was wearing.

With no warning he slammed into you at once, starting to pound right away. No time to adjust to his size this time. Just pure fucking. It almost felt like a porno. Definitely sounded like it was.

''Yeah, fuck, fuck me harder'' you panted between breathes, moans quickly taking over your words.

You don't think the pair of you have every gone this hard. You could feel his balls slapping your thighs, showing just how deep into you he was. And you could definitely feel him fill you up, hitting every spot in your cunt, so violently, but so pleasurably too.

None of you could form words now. Just actions.

You came without warning a few times, losing count of how many, and Lando was showing no interest in slowing down. You could feel the sensitivity and pain creeping in but you wanted to let him use you however he wanted.

As he was getting closer, Lando turned your body around again, this time you were staring into his gorgeous eyes, closing shut when he finally painted your walls white with his cum, crashing down all his weight on you.

''Fuck'' was all he repeated for multiple seconds.

Once again, your breaths were mixed, both trying to calm down and catch your breaths. You bought your fingers up to his curls and gently played with them as his mouth found yours for a slow intimate kiss.

''Thank you for giving me the best celebratory night. Can't wait to win some more'' he smiled at you.

''Can't wait either, Lan. You're amazing and I seriously couldn't be happier for you.''

Normally Lando would be up by now, getting a cloth to clean you up, but he stayed still. Dick softening inside of you.

You were so fucked out, from the long day the drinking, the fucking, that your eyes closed and that was you down for the nigh-or early morning.

You didn't feel when Lando slid out of you and cuddled you into his arms, not leaving your room for the first time ever.

When your eyes opened in the morning the first thing you felt was the pounding headache, which you expected. Then the memories from yesterday came crashing down, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

Then, you felt an arm around you waist, pulling you closer.

''Fuck'' you thought. ''He's still here and now it will be back to awkwardness when he leaves.''

But before you could panic or worry any further, sleep overtook you again.

Some time later, as you awoke again, your body was facing Lando's, with his arm still holding onto your waist. You were still so sleepy and confused, and then you saw him open his eyes, looking into yours with a big smile.

You smiled back at him. ''You're still here'' you whispered.

He immediately pulled you impossibly closer.

''Didn't want to leave you'' he replied.

You weren't sure what to say next. Shy, scared, excited, all of the emotions.

''Don't want to pretend anymore Lan'' you said softly.

''Then let''s stop pretending'' he said, lifting your chin up to look at him.

''I want to wake up like this next to you forever. Walking out every time was killing me, and I can't handle that anymore. I want to be with you every second every day. I want all of you, Y/N.''

By now the tears were slipping out your eyes. You'd wanted to hear those words from him for a long time now, and finally he said that.

''I want all of you too, Lan'' you said, smiling up at him.

''Be my girlfriend, and one day more than that'' he said as he pulled you up to lock your lips with his.

''I'd love that'' you laughed ''my very own race-winner'' you said, taking the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth as he smiled again.

''Fucking falling for you more and more each day'' he whispered in between kisses.''

''Me too Lando'' was all you said before he had you pinned underneath him, kisses going from slow to rough in a second, feeling his hard length between your bodies.

''I love your dick Lando, but I am SO sore from last night. Need a breather from inserting things down there'' you shyly told him. Because boy, you were sure you couldn't walk.

''Oh'' you said surprised, moving his body down yours. ''Just inserting?'' he asked, before licking a long stripe up your cunt.

''Fuck me'' you moaned.

''Oh baby, trust me, I'm gonna'' he smirked, before continuing his activities. He continues lapping at your clit, before adding his finger into play. Thrusting them in and out you.

Yes, the pain was bad, but the pleasure overtook it, and suddenly you didn't care about the pain anymore. It felt as if you had been starved of Lando for days, but it was quite the opposite.

''That's is my baby, doing so well for me'' he whispered.

When you came in his mouth, he replaced it was his dick. Sliding in and out of you, slowly, actually making love to you, instead of slamming into you as normal.

''Lan, I'm not gonna last long'' you managed to say, body already going jelly.

''All good angel, let go for me'' he said, nit needling to tell you twice before feeling your release around him.

He slowed down for a few minutes, then had an idea.

''Babe?'' he asked.

''Yeah Lan?''

''Please ride me? Wanna play with your tits.'' he said, unable to hide a shy smile.

You didn't say anything as you both shifted positions so he was sitting against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap.

You immediately sank down on him and his hands massaged your boobs before sucking on your pebbled nipples.

You set a good pace, not too slow, but not so hard so as for the pain to return.

Bouncing on him, moaning into his ear as his face rummaged through your boobs, not getting enough.

''Close again'' you mumbled.

''Together, yeah? he asked, breathless as you were.

''Let's do it'' you nodded.

Skin slapping together, sounds deliciously obscene again.

You quickly picked up your pace with Lando meeting you half way, both your thrusts becoming sloppy and messy.

In seconds your cum mixed together as you both released at the same time.

''Oh wow'' he managed to say, again pulling in to kiss you.

Words had long left your mind, all you did was lean forward and hold on to him, pulling at his hair. He was finally yours, nothing mattered more.

Safe to say the day was spent fooling around in bed, fooling around in the shower, and ordering in, not seeing the light of day until Tuesday morning, where you stepped out, hand in hand, ready to conquer the world together.

But who are we kidding, duty calls!

Thank you for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I feel like the ending was a bit rushed so I may or may not do an alternate ending.And more importantly - LANDO NATION - how are we doing? I'm still NOT over the win. Haven't stop smiling. And - enjoy these pics!

#f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris smut

213 notes · View notes

stop-talking · 11 months ago

Text

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 1)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, so much angst, flashing mike, fluff, spending time with Abby (because everyone always forgets her??)

Part 2

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike holds his breath as the phone rings. He's already gone down the mental checklist of people who he could possibly call for help right now, and is currently scraping the bottom of the goddamn barrel.

*click* "Hello?"

He speaks hurriedly into the dingy landline phone, praying you won't immediately dismiss him.

"Hey, it's Mike. Please don't hang up."

You're tempted to hang up on him then and there, just to prove a point. You guys broke up nearly a year ago, and hadn't spoken in... what, six months now? But the tone in his voice... he sounded desperate.

"What, drunk and lonely again?" You scoff, unable to resist taking a jab at him. You two hadn't exactly ended things on good terms, his lack-of-sleep induced grumpiness and general unpleasant disposition making it hard for him to take criticism without it turning into an argument. It wasn't your fault he never made time for you. It wasn't your fault he was so emotionally unavailable.

"No." He grits his teeth, already regretting calling you. "I need a favor. Please." He chokes the word out, his stomach in knots from having to resort to this.

You pause for a few moments, chewing on his words. It must really be serious if he'd called you, after all the things you'd said to him last time you spoke.

"Well... lets hear it, then."

"I need you to watch Abby tonight. My usual babysitter isn't answering the damn phone, and I have to leave for work in an hour. I can't leave Abby home alone. I just can't."

In an hour? You glance at the clock, it's already 8:30. What ungodly hours is he working?

"I thought you didn't work nights? I swear to god, Schmidt, if you're making me watch her so you can go get laid-"

"No. Nothing like that. I swear." He sighs, sounding genuinely exhausted. "I'm working as a security guard these days. Night gig. Long story. It sucks ass, but I need this job. Can you watch Abby? I'll owe you one."

You bite back the urge to scoff at him. He's not even going to pay you? Figures. Oh well. Holding a favor over his head might be fun.

"Ugh. Fine. I'll see. What time will you get back? I have work in the morning."

"6:15. Maybe 6:10, if I drive like a maniac."

"Shit. I'll have to get ready for work at your place. If I go home first I'll be late."

"Yeah, sure. Anything. Just please stay with Abby. She goes to sleep at 10, you can crash on the couch. I just want someone in the house with her."

You let out an audible sigh. Are you seriously going to go crash on your shitty ex-boyfriend's shitty couch on a work night?

...Yeah, yeah you are.

"Damn it, Mike. You'd better kiss my fucking feet when I get there."

Mike almost laughs at that. Almost.

"Sure thing, Princess." He cant help but taunt you a bit, using an old pet name he used to call you way back when you were dating. It probably wasn't the best decision to irritate the last person he could rely on, but he wasn't in the right headspace to make good decisions right now. These days, he mostly runs off of coffee and self-hatred.

"I'll be there in 30. You'd better be on your knees and groveling when you open the door." You slam the phone down before he can answer. Michael fucking Schmidt. Still the same jackass you broke up with all those months ago.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike opens the door to greet you almost exactly 30 minutes later, he reluctantly drops to his knees. He'd hoped you'd forgotten the silly request, but the unamused look you gave him said otherwise.

"Fucking witch." He grumbles, hanging his head as you brush past him into the house. Were you wearing... pajama pants? He stares at you as you set down your things, a purse and what looks like an overnight bag of some sort.

"Stop gaping. And stand up. You look pathetic." You shrug off your coat, revealing an old t-shirt underneath. Yeah, you were in pajamas, so what? Its late. And you couldn't be bothered to put in extra effort for Mike, of all people.

"Excuse me for doing as her majesty commands." He groans and stands up, brushing himself off. As if that'll make him look any more presentable.

Abby tentatively pokes her head out of her room, watching you and Mike argue. Shit. Did she hear all that?

"Hey Abbs." You wave to her, deciding to ignore Mike's comment. "It's gonna be just me and you tonight, sound good?"

She looks to Mike for approval, who nods and gives her a tired smile. The only kind of smile he's been able to muster lately.

"...Will you play with me?"

"Yeah, 'course I will. Let me have a chat with your brother real quick." She seems to accept that answer, closing herself back off in her room. You sigh and follow Mike into the kitchen.

"There's leftovers in the fridge, and a lasagna in the freezer. Probably have something edible in the pantry. I think there's popcorn." He explains, pointing out a few different measly options for a quick meal. "Look, she probably won't, but just try and get her to eat dinner."

You watch him lean back against the counter and rub at his temples. God damn, he looks... exhausted. His hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, dark brown curls hanging low over his forehead. His eye bags seem to hang even lower.

"Yeah... I'll try and get her to eat."

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air as you both run out of things to talk about, so he fills the void with an insult.

"You really had to come over in that?" Mike scoffs and gestures at your frumpy t-shirt and pajama pants.

"What? Were you hoping for something slutty?" You cross your arms and give him a smug look.

He turns his head, unsure what to say to that. Maybe part of him did hope to see you dressed in something a little more revealing. Or maybe just undressed. God damn it, was he blushing?

"Fuck you." He mutters, making his way to the entryway and slipping his shoes on.

"No thanks. Been there, done that." You respond dismissively, watching him leave with a smirk.

Mike slams the door on his way out. Not hard enough to startle Abby, hopefully, but hard enough to make a point he's not in the mood to play your little games. Still, the whole drive to work, he can't help but wonder what if...? What if you had never broken up with him? What if he had been a better boyfriend? A better provider for you and Abby? A better man?

"I fucking hate her." He grumbles, but the words are hollow.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Mike told me you stopped coming over because he found out you're a witch and you curse children. Is that true?" Abby finally musters up the courage to ask the question that's been on her mind ever since you walked through the door.

"Did he say that?" You chuckle, a little shocked that this is what she chose to ask after ten minutes or so of silently coloring together.

"Yeah. He said you cursed him, too. And that's why he can't color anymore. He'll explode, or something." She babbles, not looking up from her paper.

"Hmm... well, if you're really worried about your brother, I'll cut you a deal." You do your best to keep the anger from your tone as you continue to color beside her at the table. That asshole doesn't color with Abby anymore?

"...What kind of deal?"

"I'll lift the curse on your brother so he can color and draw again... but you have to eat dinner. Ten whole bites."

Abby seems to consider this for a moment, turning and eyeing you suspiciously. Mike likes to mess with her like this. Were you messing with her too? Probably. But, well, if it would make Mike spend time with her again...

"Fine. What do we have?"

You smile at her. This babysitting stuff is a breeze.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike stumbles in the door the next morning, he spots you fast asleep on the couch. He flops down in the recliner and just watches you sleep for a minute or two. You look so pretty when you're asleep. Serene. Peaceful. Not at all like when you're awake, giving him that attitude he's so familiar with. He sighs and makes his way over to the couch, knowing he should probably wake you for work.

"Uhh... wakey wakey?" He mumbles lamely, unsure what to really say. Definitely not good morning, beautiful. He scoffs to himself at the thought.

"Mmm... Mike?" You blink up at the man gently shaking your shoulder, your eyes adjusting to the morning light.

"Yeah. Who else would it be?" He shakes his head in amusement and goes back to sit in the recliner.

"I dunno. A hookup?" You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, then stretch out.

"A hookup? Still being passed around, then?" He responds with a scoff, trying to hide just how much that answer bothers him. Even after nearly a year of being broken up, he doesn't like to imagine you with other men. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, even if he's not into you anymore. Actually, you don't look half-bad right now, stretching your arms over your head like that...

"Can you blame a girl? Had to make up for all the unsatisfying nights with you."

Mike reeled at that little quip. The smug look on your face, god... He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to shut you up with a kiss or a punch.

"Just fucking go home." Nice one, Mike. That'll show her.

"Hey, you agreed I could get ready here. I'm gonna go use your shower, and then I have something to talk to you about."

Something to talk to him about? He scowls as you walk off towards his bedroom. Why couldn't you just leave him alone? Why did everything have to be so complicated? He groans and goes to lie down in bed. Maybe he could get in a quick nap while you shower. Maybe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You emerge from the dingy bathroom connected to Mike's bedroom fifteen minutes or so later, steam trailing in behind you.

"Three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash? Seriously, Schmidt?" You scold him, crossing your arms as you stand before his bed wearing nothing but a towel. At first, he seems annoyed when you pull him out of his brooding, but when he takes in your current state of undress, he sputters.

"S-so? Its economical." He scoffs, irritated, but unable to look away as you make your way around his bed and out the door.

You return a minute later carrying your overnight bag. "Forgot my clothes." Mike just nods, still unable to tear his eyes from you.

"Stop staring."

"Stop waltzing through my room naked."

"This isn't naked." You gesture to the towel wrapped around your body, drawing his attention back to you.

"This is naked."

Mike watches in complete shock as you let the towel fall to the floor, completely baring yourself to him for a few moments before finally locking yourself in his bathroom. You hear him mutter a few curses on the other side of the door, and smile as you get changed.

"Was that really necessary?" Mike scowls at you when you emerge from his bathroom a few minutes later, now fully dressed.

"Calm down, Mikey. Not like you haven't seen it all before." The old nickname you used to call him by doesn't sound endearing anymore. It sounds taunting. Mike looks like he cant decide between kicking you out of the house or pulling you into his bed. Good to know you can still get under his skin. And maybe his bedsheets, if you wanted.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" He finally asks, sighing in defeat.

"C'mon. I'll tell you."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits in the recliner, watching you set up a bunch of unnecessary crap on his coffee table. Did you really have to do your makeup right in front of him?

"A witch, Mike? Seriously? You told her I'm a witch, and then left her alone with me for the night?"

Mike swallows. Shit. He honestly forgot about that, it was just some lame excuse he came up with right after the breakup back when he was still distraught.

"Am I wrong?" He tries to brush it off with a sassy comment, but folds when he sees your intense glare.

"I mean... uh... I'll tell her you're... not a witch..." Real smooth, Schmidt. Mumble and stare at the floor.

"It's not even about that, really. Feed her all the lies you want. What I'm upset about is that she told me you don't color with her anymore."

Mike finally meets your eyes as you apply yet another random powder he doesn't understand the purpose of to your cheeks with the swipe of a brush.

"I'm busy. And it's none of your business. I asked you to come be her babysitter, not her mom." He snarls, hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not trying to be. It just breaks my heart to hear that stuff from her, Mike. I told her I'd lift the 'curse' off of you if she ate her dinner, and she did. So consider yourself un-cursed."

Mike grits his teeth as you put air quotes around the word "curse". He knew you were right, and that bothered him more than the fact he was being a shitty brother. The worst part was, you weren't even being snarky, you just sounded genuinely concerned for Abby. God damn it.

"...Yeah. Fine. Un-cursed. Got it." He grumbles in agreement as you finish up your makeup and swipe the assortment of products into your purse.

"How do I look?"

He wanted to tell you that you looked gorgeous, that he missed having you around, attitude or not. But in this moment, he couldn't do it. He was too tired. Too angry.

"Like a whore."

"Someone's jealous he doesn't get any."

"Like I'd want you."

"Oh yeah, the raging boner you had earlier when you saw me in a towel was because you don't want me. Totally."

Oh, now you're just taunting him.

"I'll have you know that didn't happen till after you lost the towel." Mike scoffs as he follows you to the entryway, unlocking the door for you while you slip on your shoes.

"Don't lie to me, Mikey."

"I'd never dream of it, Princess."

Mike has to resist the urge to pull you into his arms as you leave for work. Maybe if you didn't look so goddamn smug, he would. Instead he just shuts the door and locks it, hating himself for how much he enjoyed this whole interaction.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

will probably write a part 2 (with smut??)

edit: here is part 2

(no smut. part 3 tho...??)

idk this was my first fanfic ever so enjoy

#josh hutcherson #mikeschmidt #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnafmovie #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #mike x reader #no use of y/n #fnaf fic

274 notes · View notes

durrtydawg · 4 months ago

Text

It's the Adrenaline

(Sam Drake x F!Reader smut)

It’s incredible what a little fight-or-flight and your first proper bed in days can get you roped into. Literally, in Sam's case.

Et voila! As aforementioned, here's 4.2k words of Sam getting his ass handed to him 💖

Warnings: it's smut, so… you know. Find detailed tags on ao3, but primarily we've got a sprinkling of orgasm denial, very light bondage (like literally just hands bc I'm feeling bland), and reader on TOP in more ways than one, innapropes language, a small mention of blood…. Yes! As always, enjoy, and let me know what you think!x

masterlist

guys i actually want to bite him

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Stop that."

"I- what? Stop what?"

"Stop... being quiet."

"I'm concentrating!"

"Since when did you need to concentrate?"

"Since when did you make jackin' me off prime time for interrogation? Haven’t I had enough’a that for one day?"

You tut, soft smirk etched onto your lips. "So crass."

He frowns. "Shut up. Kiss me." Chin tilted up, he grazes his lips against yours.

"No." You pull away, hovering just out of reach, leaving him unable to do anything but laugh, exasperated, tongue toying with a molar as he slumps back against the pillow.

"Why not?!"

"Not until you stop trapping those little noises at the back of your throat." You chastise, a teasing lilt to your tone as your nails give his Adam's apple a gentle, yet punctuating scratch.

"Jesus- you’re really takin’ everything from me, huh?"

He’s so fucking gorgeous looking up at you like this, all long lashes and tensed muscles, and the persistent to-ing-and-fro-ing between letting you know he’s better than this and wanting nothing more than this. The days-long treks and sleepless nights spent scribbling notes and scrutinising coordinates are clinging tiredly below his pretty eyes, and peppered over his jaw and upper neck - oh, he’s exhausted.

And would you look at that, there’s the most adorable streak of dark fuchsia burgeoning just above his cheekbone, accented by a rich, red cut, ready to split and spill blood if it’s agitated enough. You threaten the tip of your tongue with your canine as another flood of heat twists between your thighs- not that seeing him like this gets you off, or anything.

You make a mental note to dress his wounds properly later - you’ll take care of your big baby boy, right after you’ve… taken care of your big baby boy.

Your mouth twists into an even deeper smirk at the atypical shake in his voice and the subtle pink hue that begins to bleed through his cheeks- completely separate to his blossoming bruise.

"Oh, you love it."

Before he can divulge some sort of blatant lie, you move your hand again, giving a particularly tough squeeze that makes his eyes widen.

"Touché." His voice comes out breathy. You lick your lips. Getting there.

Your thumb swipes over his tip, nail tracing ever-so-slightly, and he swallows thickly. You mirror the action, the sight of his tightened jaw and bobbing throat making your mouth water. Bide your time.

Your eyes flit to the birds - you know he’s sensitive there - and your tongue smooths over your teeth, appetite well and truly whetted.

Dipping down, you make a show of single-handedly unclasping your bra, tossing it aside before crushing your bare chest against his, and it’s like your slow, steady heartbeat interrogates his own as it thud thud thuds even quicker, reverberating against your skin. Your hand moves at a steady pace, pumping enough for him to remain relatively composed, but just on the cusp of giving in to what you want.

“Let-” he pauses, as the tip of your tongue traces over the outline of the highest bird, swallowing again though this time it’s audible as hairline cracks continue to appear in his composure. “Let me see ‘em.”

“See what?” You reply, lips grazing further down the side of his neck, riddling his arms with goosebumps.

“Those gorgeous tits a’yours.”

You scoff, pausing your soft assault on his neck to hover directly over him. “You gonna ask nicely?”

He tuts, turning to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Christ - want me to call you ‘Mommy’ or somethin’ while I'm at it?” he mutters. Your eyes momentarily widen as a grin tugs its way onto your lips.

You pull your hand away from his cock, and with a quick, almost comical reflex, he shuts his eyes tight, huffing in self-inflicted defeat.

You take his attempt at hiding from the consequences of his speech as an opportunity to grip him by the stubbled jaw and force him to look up at you. “Don’t tempt me.” You say, tip of your nose brushing against his as he stares up at you. His eyes widen fleetingly, before his irises cavort aimlessly around your face.

You can't help but giggle. It's not very often that Sam's lost for words, but you savour what you're given.

“What do you want?” You whisper, thumb mindlessly tracing back and forth over the bump on his nose. “Tell me.”

He pauses, eyes drifting sideways as he conspires.

“I want you to…” He leans into your hand, a small pout forming as he mimics deep thought, “touch my dick again?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Wow.”

“What? I answered the question, didn’t I?”

“I am… fighting the urge to go ham and gag you, Samuel.”

He meets your gaze with a smoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly - he’s weighing you up, holding back a mischievous smile.

“God, you’re so hot when you’re irritated.”

“So, you want to be gagged?” your voice laced with challenge... and perhaps a light dusting of curiosity.

“No, ma’am,” his mock-militant reply comes quickly, with a small shake of the head, his tone surprisingly composed, but the smoulder in his eyes remaining, daring to push just a little further. “Unless… you wanna pop a… tit in my mouth?”

You give him a warning glare, making sure you hover just shy of his lips.

“Audacious. You wanna try that again?”

He waits a second, assessing your whereabouts on the seriousness scale. Answer? Dead serious.

He inhales, teeth tugging at his lower lip for a moment as he sizes you up just a little longer.

“Can I…”

You give him a patronising nod, pulling yourself up ever so slightly as you urge him on. As predicted, his eyes shoot straight to your chest, so you re-assume your hand’s grip on his jaw, ensuring his eye line stays firmly fixed above your clavicle.

His chest rises beneath you - then stops - he’s holding his breath. You smize.

“CanIsuckyourtits?” he mumbles on a slightly unsteady exhale. You reach back between your legs, fingertips giving a teasing stroke from his balls, right up to his tip and back. He shakes his head to himself, flexing his fingers in a mix of frustration and slight embarrassment.

“A little louder? You’ve really gotta annunciate more..”

You refuse to let him know just yet, but you're soaked, and just as eager for this to progress as he is, so before he can complain again, you wrap your palm back around his shaft, your grip on his jaw loosening, thumb sliding round to the small red mark you've left on his neck.

You’ve almost done as much of a number on him as the mercs that tried to take the two of you hostage mere hours ago. It’s incredible what a little adrenaline and your first proper bed in days can get you roped into. Literally, in his case.

“Can I s- God- can I suck your tits, please?” Of course his voice doesn’t waver. Highly unlikely. He didn’t blaspheme and let his jaw go slack for a second. Did he? Ah shit.

You smile, snaking your hand round further. Your fingers comb through his hair, resting against the nape of his neck.

“Good enough.” You say quietly, nipping just beneath his earlobe before drawing him closer to you by the back of the neck. You arch upwards a little, just enough to position your nipples at mouth level. You watch his eyelids twitch ever so slightly as you speed your fist up just enough to quicken his heartbeat.

Sam near enough locks in on the sight in front of him, licking his lips before parting them. Just as his tongue makes a beeline for your left nipple, a sharp tug to the back of his head pulls him away, flopping unwillingly back into the pillow with an audible wince. He mouths a completely baffled “huh?” up at you.

“Did I say you could do that?”

“You had ‘em right in front of my f-uh-uck- face-”

“Open your mouth.” You interrupt, tugging harder at his roots whilst speeding up your wrist, a medley of pained pleasure that has his face contorted in breathless confusion - and God, does it give you a power trip.

He manages to collect himself. Then obliges. So, you treat him to a tighter squeeze that makes him gasp softly.

“Wider. And stick out your tongue.”

“Oh m-”

“Sam.” You raise a brow.

He frowns. Opens his mouth. Sticks out his tongue. You sigh as he looks up at you expectantly, masking all sorts of arousal and degradation with his frown that continues to falter the tighter your hand squeezes around his shaft.

You look at his tongue and the flash of vulnerability in his eyes, and your thighs instinctively tense.

Pulling him close to you again without making him strain his arms too much, you lean forwards enough for his tongue to graze your nipple. You sigh as he breathes deeply, keeping still. Waiting. Like a puppy holding back from devouring a treat before it’s been given permission.

You're practically drooling between your thighs at the sight of him as you commit it to memory, stroking once through his hair before giving him a gentle nod.

His eyes quickly flit between your face and your chest, affirming to himself that you’ve left no contractual loophole in your acquiescence, before he timidly swipes his tongue over your nipple.

When he’s certain you’re not going to viciously tug at his hair or - God forbid - stop touching him, he gives in, latching on to your warm skin, pulling himself as far up to you as he can without dislocating a shoulder.

You hum in satisfaction as the slight pressure of each fervorous nip and lick and suck stimulates and soothes the luteal ache in your breasts, and, feeling generous, you commend his eagerness by speeding your hand up even more.

You shouldn’t say it.

“Hnnfffuh-fuck-” he groans, jaw slack against your skin as you push him back into the pillow. You glance up, marvelling at the way his triceps tense as he reflexively tugs at the rope between his wrists and the bedframe.

You really shouldn’t say it. You know he hates it - or at least is good at pretending he does - but at this moment in time, you know you can get away with just about anything. So you do.

“Good boy.”

You bite back a shit-eating grin as his cheeks turn red and his hands tighten into fists - you swear you feel his dick twitch in your hand…

“Shh-” he just about prevents himself from telling you to ‘shut up’, instead pulling back from you completely, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes out a “Goddamnit.” as his hips buck up into you.

“Oh, you’re close, aren’t you?” you purr, lips twisted into a teasing smile.

“Yeah,” he pants, “Yeah, I - oh Christ, what’a’ya doin’ t’me.” he grits his teeth, tucking his face into the crook of his elbow as he feels himself get closer to the edge.

You chuckle lightly, taking his exposed earlobe between your teeth as he quietly whines out a further few expletives.

“You gonna cum for me, handsome?”

He nods into his arm, torso tensing as he tightens his jaw, “I’m cu- gonna-” he chokes on a low moan, grinding up into your hands to amplify the friction he so desperately needs - but you’re not going to let him get there that easily.

“Wh- what?” He huffs, voice cracking with exasperated fatigue as you pull away, snatching his orgasm from him at the last second. “Why did you-” he tilts his chin up to the ceiling, grunting in frustration as you settle yourself over his knee with a complacent grin. “Why’d you stop?”

You snort. “Babe, you’ve been such a smartass up until the last few minutes - you really think I’d let you get off that easily?”

“I-” he huffs, swallowing, then shaking his head, forcing himself to regain some equanimity, “It's the adrenaline, sweetheart.”

“Sure.” You scoff.

He sniffs after puffing out a long-held breath. “Lesson learned.”

And then he sees you twist your hair over to one shoulder.

His eyes go glossy with need, and he damn-near snaps the wooden slat he’s tied to clean in half as he pulls himself up to watch you leave warm, careful, open-mouthed sucks against his balls - he shudders when your bottom teeth scrape lightly against the vein curving its way up his shaft.

You do feel a little bad. He's going to have a nasty set of burns around his wrists if he keeps tugging like that.

Perhaps your broken grappling rope wasn't the best idea, but he was game even after you warned him so you'll take what you can.

That's what you two do. Improvise.

You move slowly, skilfully, lips parting enough to pull his head into your mouth, hands tickling up from his thighs to hip bones as you suck and swirl, building up a pool of saliva under the tongue. You hollow your cheeks, engulfing him a little more in order to coax out beads of salty sweetness from his slit.

Eyes wet from the effort of taking him in, you descend again, lips growing wet and swollen as the seconds draw on - you’re methodical, unforgiving, and above all enjoying the fact that he can’t just grab a hold of your hair and fuck your mouth as he usually would.

You’ve turned the tables - there’s no room to breathe, but for once, he’s the one that’s suffering. He swallows hard, every grunt and strangled groan only persuades you to increase the intensity, and it’s nigh on torturous.

He’s tense with anticipation, stomach tightening, arms pulling desperately above him. He pants - don’t speak, you’ll blow it - before you relax your throat and swallow his cock as far as you can take him.

Don’t speak, don’t fucking speak, ah, he can’t help it. He’s got a big mouth - and he just doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, so when he tells you how pretty you look with your mouth full, you can’t help but give his tip a warning bite that has him buck into you.

He moans, properly, the sound catching low in his throat, making your cunt clench in wanton need. It's such a pretty sound. Rare. Like it almost shouldn’t be possible - too good to be true, so you repeat and draw out another, and this time you just have to dive in and swirl a finger over your swollen clit. You whimper at the feeling of your slick oozing through the fabric of your underwear, throat clenching around him, vibrations only pulling him even closer to his peak.

Every breath and stammered sentence that leaves his lips sends your abdomen seizing- he’s on the brink again, twitching on your tongue, stomach tensed as he tugs against the rope.

“Hoooly- sh- shhh-“

It’s a good thing you know him so well, the telltale signs as familiar to you as the back of your own hand - otherwise, he’d probably cum down your throat before you’ve had your fill.

You hazard an upwards glance, watching his torso tense as he holds his tongue- but you pull away just in time, denying yourself of your own approaching climax in the same breath.

“Oh God, I’m g- w- wait n- no- no no no no,” He slams his head back into the pillow with a series of flustered huffs, “Ah- why- why-are-you-being-such-a-bitch?”

His eyes widen quickly, then, equally as fast, they squeeze shut as he mumbles in slightly panicked incoherence. “I didn’t mean it-” he blurts, “I didn’t mean ‘t’call you that- shit.”

“Mhm.” You murmur, all saccharine and forgiving, and he responds with a bashful twitch of an apologetic smile. "Who knew you could be so... loud!' You put on a teasing lilt of encouragement that makes him swallow hard.

You lick up the spit and the salty-sweet sheen of pearlescent pre-cum from your lips, legs straddling his hips once more.

“You’ve gotta-” He rolls his hips with a slightly pained grunt, trying to assimilate some sort of control over his posture as his cock throbs. “Jesus...”

He’s not fixed on you - but rather, the glistening sheen coating your fingertips as you pull your hand from between your thighs.

Breathless and clammy, you roll your neck.

Your smile grows more slushy as he softly calls for you; “Sweetheart…”

Lean forwards and lay onto him, give his chest a stroke as his breathing slows and softens, despite how very hot and hard and swollen and wanting he is, and how - not that he’d admit it - afraid of consequence he is after his naughty little outburst.

“What is it?”

“How much longer are you gonna keep this up?” There’s gravel in his throat, and it’s all weirdly innocent, and part of you wants to untie him and let him do what he wants as way of apology. “‘Cause my heart can’t take much more’a this.” He chuckles breathlessly, eyebrows knitted together as if to say pleeeeeease, it hurts.

Aw. Baby.

A pause. You consider. But then he swears under his breath and you remember the sounds that came out of him a minute ago and how he’d rather gouge out his own eyeballs than gift you something so pretty if the roles were reversed. He’s such a bastard.

Keep him steady- stroke his hair and cup his cheek. Listen close and you can almost hear the thud of his heart and the rush of blood painfully pumping its way through his body. Trace over muscle and scar and tacky ink with your nails as you massage his aching arms- Oh, he likes that - look, he can barely keep his eyes open.

Now, lure him into a false sense of security as you run your hand across his neck: Not much longer, babe - speak low, whisper, even. Bat your eyelashes, he likes that, too.

He sighs into your mouth when you kiss him, straining his neck to get as much of you as he possibly can. You let him push his tongue down your throat, whilst you deftly pull your underwear aside to grind yourself against him. His brows furrow again as you add insult to injury, and you feel him hold another breath. God, he’s so warm, mmm so swollen and full and ready to give it all to you.

Your arousal seeps onto your inner thighs, obscene squelching almost as loud as your heavy breathing as your hands rest on each side of his handsome, tired, flushed face.

It almost hurts to pull away, but you do anyway. He looks up at you with all the adoration in the world and you have to firmly remind yourself about that false sense of security.

I love you… Your voice is low and breathy, almost as if you’re intoxicated. You rub his cheeks, thumb tracing his injuries. Red’s a good look on him.

He can tell you’re scheming- a curious, lopsided smile fixed to his lips as he returns the sentiment.

“I... love you t- Ow!”

The sharp smack echoes, cutting off his words. His head snaps to the side, the force of the blow sending a shockwave through his gut that lingers for a second- the disbelief widening his eyes. His cheek, now flushed a deeper shade of red than before, throbs with the sting of your palm.

Slowly, he turns his head back to face you, and his eyes meet yours. There’s a flicker of something else amongst the greens and ambers- hurt, surprise, but also the unmistakable spark of heat pulsing beneath the surface. His lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something, but the words die in his throat. Ugh, do you think he knows what that does to you- the arousal that punches thick and fast, sending liquid need smearing against him as you continue to slowly rock your hips?

You can see the way his chest rises and falls, his breath coming faster, ragged with the sudden rush of adrenaline. You’ve caught him off guard, and you relish the power of such a rare occasion.

A slow, smug smile spreads across your face, the satisfaction of your dominance making your heart race.

“That’s for calling me a bitch.”

There’s a thrill, dark and intoxicating- a heady mix of control and intimacy, and you can’t help but feel a tinge of pride at how well you know him- how easily you can manipulate complex bodily functions with a single, unexpected gesture.

“I- I told you I didn’t mean- Jesus!”

The second slap is quick, almost casual, yet it sends another jolt through him, intensifying the flush on his cheeks, and undoubtedly causing more damage to the bruising from earlier in the day.

His breath hitches, and this time, there's no mistaking the reaction it elicits. The pain barely registers before it dissolves into something else- his pupils dilating, lips parting in a soft gasp as the sharp sting morphs into an undeniable arousal. The way his body responds is almost involuntary, a slight shudder running through him as he struggles to maintain composure.

“And that’s for not telling me how close you were. So sly, Sam.” You tut.

You see it all, the way his defences crumble under your touch, the way his bravado falters.

And it fuels you, that power, the control you wield over him, and how much he actually really fucking loves it. A wicked smile plays on your lips as you lean in close, your voice dripping with lustful, quiet authority.

"Apologise," you command, “for hurting my feelings.” You add a mock pout for theatrical effect- another of his favourites.

The way he’s looking up at you… talk about whipped.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nods. He hates that word.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice rough, laced with submission… and a hint of awe. The words come out strained, as if it takes everything in him to say them, but he does it- because he knows you demand nothing less.

You can tell he’s still processing everything- the shock, the pain, the desire and that makes his apology all the more satisfying. He’s captivated, trapped in this moment where you hold all the power, and it’s clear he’s fascinated by your ability to bring him to his knees… metaphorically speaking. Perhaps you’ll try that next time. Tie his hands behind his back and get him to eat you out.

It’s almost a shame you lack the patience for that now. But, you’re throbbing, aching for him to finish you off- hell, you want to hear him finish.

“One more time?” You ask, angling yourself just above his tip.

He clears his throat, wetting his lips as you catch a glint of something almost masochistic in his eyes. “I’m sor-ohhh, my God.”

You guide him home before he can fully do as he’s told, a languid groan pulled out of your throat as you settle beside his ear. He stretches you open and it sears into you, all the heat and fucking tension of the danger of this seemingly endless expedition- grunts and gasps and tiny little mewls from the two of you, and the way his arms tug against their binds because he can’t fathom the concept of restraint any more- holy shit, it’s not going to take much for you to reach your peak.

Sam turns to you, nose pushing against your cheek to coax your mouth round to him- you oblige because, fuck, you love the feeling of his lips on yours, and- even better when you come back above him to speed up- the feeling of him huffing and moaning onto your tongue as if it means you can’t hear him…

“Mm-ff-fuck-” he stutters, teeth snagging against your lower lip as he can’t prevent himself from fucking up into you any longer. “Gonna- c- can I cum in you?”

You pull up to give your arm enough space to reach your clit again, looking down as he stares up at you with watery, desperate, wide, fucking gorgeous eyes-

“P-pl- shit- Please?”

Oh, fuck, he’s learning. The plea tightens the coil tenfold and you feel your brows knit together as you rock your hips against him, nodding as a flash of a smile plasters its way onto your lips.

If he moans, it’s lost to you- you’re all-encompassed by a sudden heat filling you up in bursts and the intensity of your own heartbeat as you draw yourself closer.

“Oh-myfuckinggod-”

You fall flush against him as you come, white hot inebriating heat coursing through you as you spasm and stream around him, leaving soft hisses and sporadic gasps spilling from his lips as he’s forced through a sudden hit of sensitivity.

Your fingers stroke until you twitch on top of him, milking him dry, finally slowing to a stop as you let your heart steady itself.

Then, you’re both silent. Bar the desperate huffs and gulps for air.

“My face hurts.” He says, all husky and spent.

You grin and giggle into his chest, and he definitely feels it.

You'll untie him in a sec- and he'll pretend to forget that this ever happened. All bark and bravado. Not that you'll let him.

Then you'll make sure he's okay, clean up the thin dribble of blood from the small slash on his face you've accidentally agitated- kiss him better.

Maybe you'll call him a good boy again just to rile him up enough to roll you over and get you back.

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #uncharted

113 notes · View notes

kaeddehara · 2 years ago

Text

EX BOYFRIENDS — NSFW

kaeya + heizou + cyno

♱ warnings | nsfw content, slight hate sex (kaeya/heizou), jealou sex (cyno), breeding, size kink(kaeya), implied sir/general kink(cyno/kaeya), bondage(heizou) |

♱ notes | kinda lazy posting cause i’m been so busy with work and school; also just sad cause i haven’t seen my boyfriend in 2 weeks ;( |

| KAEYA |

“k-kaeya slow down”,

you struggled out as he roughly continues taking off your clothing. the smell of alcohol distinct on his breath even when he so much as breathed next to you. all of this was wrong, every single aspect about it. but it’s not like either of you cared right? just a quick fuck for both of you right?

“you look just how i remembered you, pretty thing”

he teased while pulling at your hair, causing your back to arch at an almost painful state. not like it mattered though not when the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up over and over again made you overwhelmed with pleasure. kaeya always had such a tender touch even with how rough and often times uncaring it seemed, you could tell he did it out of the feelings he had for you. he noticed you drifted off a bit thinking his pace wasn’t enough for you and graping at your hips with ease. pulling you on his cock and making you take every last inch inside your tight, sensitive pussy.

“god so big…”

“bet you missed it didn’t you sweetheart?”

you could only bite your lip and nod in agreement, letting kaeya manhandle you just how you both like. you couldn’t even think. not when you’re getting pounded by your drunk ex who doesn’t know when to quit. his stamina was unmatched in every way, you couldn’t even imagine how debauched and ruined you’d be after the captain was finished with you.

“slow down sir kaeya”

as if on cue, he slowed. not because you asked but more because of that damn pet name only you would call him in bed.

“don’t call me that”

“come on kae i know you like it”

he huffed at your annoying comments, still making himself at home inside of you. and god it was so easy to do so. all of it he remembered so clearly and if it wasn’t until now, he may have just had to keep imagining you in hopes it would be somewhat adequate to the rest thing. even down to how you smelled, he missed it all. everything. maybe it was the alcohol talking, but a sudden twinge of regret and conflicting feelings mixed each other up inside kaeyas mind.

“just shut up and take it”

after the many rounds kaeya went through with you, you both found each other lying next to one another in his bed. you’d long since pass out from how tiring it all was, mentally and physically. although kaeya was exhausted too, he couldn’t help but continue to think about you. kaeya wishes he could just talk with you just so you could see eye to eye. maybe a talk over some breakfast cooked by him in the morning would do <3.

| HEIZOU |

“you couldn’t even go a couple of months without this huh?”

heizou jeered at you in an attempt to rile you up. he was oh so good at that. making you reach a certain breaking point which how badly he got into your head.

“s-shut up already..”

you weakly replied back, hair messy and face slicked with sweat. he smirked at your response, only tugging your cuffed hands which were placed behind your back towards him. your body lifting up in the process of him pulling you so harshly.

“i even tied you up just how you like and you still wanna tell me to shut up?”

a loud array of whines and protests escaped from your lips as his thick cock continued to roughly pound you over his work desk. such a dirty place to do it and even then, why not let you come in to his office and let him relieve some stress. it’s no surprise you both missed doing this within the privacy of heizous office.

a loud slap could be heard soon after he asked you that question. his hand leaving a red mark on the fat of your ass just to get something out of you. we’re you always this stubborn when you were with him?

“just because we’re not together doesn’t mean you don’t get to listen to me slut”

“you never stop talking…”

your head was dizzy and only filled with thoughts of getting fucked stupid your obnoxious ex. it wasn’t like heizou wanted anything more than just this right?

“ah-fuck that feels so much better than i remembered…”

he groaned in a low tone after cumming deep inside your tight pussy. not even bothering to pull out cause he knows you love getting filled with more cum than you could take. he patted at your side, touching you so gently even after all the things he said and rough treatment he gave your pussy.

“let’s get you to bed, we can talk later alright?”

| CYNO |

the quiet room of his office wasn’t so quiet anymore with the constant sound of hips hitting yours. back laid out on his desk making his papers all messy and join the other items once adjourning his desk on the floor. not that cyno cared though. all the mattered in the moment was you, you, you. cyno couldn’t even make himself look up at your face, not with the shame in his heart what would probably be written all over his face if he did look into your sweet, tear ridden eyes.

“she’s not my new girl, i could never replace you even if i tried”

your face contorted into a shocked one while silence filled the space. cyno was taken aback too by his sudden confession but that didn’t stop him from continuing to fuck you, head piece covering his eyes so neither of you could see the shame written on his face.

“you mean that cy?”

he huffed as small, low growls escaped his throat at the feeling of your warmth engulfing all of the thick, sensitive veins his cock missed.

you both were referring to the conversation you both had after you met cyno outside the academia. seeing him earlier with another woman his age, you didn’t know why it drove you insane other than the fact that she was with cyno and not you.

“just focus on this alright?”

he whined out as he rutted even harder into you as to not allow you to respond to him. faster and faster until he knew you were about to cum. he heard what sounded like a giggle come from your lips. we’re you laughing at him?

“sure thing, general”

cyno clenched his fists at the title. he knew what kind of game you were playing, honeying your words up to tease him after he’d had a long day. almost reminded him of what you used to do when you’re together…didn’t matter though.

he remembers exactly how you sound when you do. taking his hand off your waist, he rubs his thumb gently against your clit to help you out. your hands grip onto his lean arms, nails digging into his pretty tan skin.

“fuck cyno—i’m gonna-!”

you cut yourself off as you came with a sudden rush, your body twitching and spasming around his while he pushed himself in to a hilt. you huffed yourself back down and gained some control back over your body after an orgasm you’d hadn’t felt in weeks. and in that moment, cyno looked at your face. how pretty you looked in the afterglow and how much he missed taking in that look and kissing your lips after.

“didn’t want to cum inside cyno?”

you asked, disappointingly. cyno snapped back to the reality before sighing at your question and looking down at where you both were connected. noticing the thick, creamy halo around the bottom of his cock.

“i wouldn’t want myself getting addicted to that feeling again”

#kaeddehara #genshin smut #kaeya smut #heizou smut #cyno smut #kaeyas milkies #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin men #genshin imagines #rumi : masterlist 🌀#☕️#🗡

2K notes · View notes

mxstellatayte · 5 months ago

Note

Smut Weekend !! can we do pierre and action 15?

nsfw under the cut <3 minors can lurk but please do not interact!

vivi i went off the rails for this one. what the fuck have you done to me.

"pierre," you whine, fighting to maintain a sense of composure when his lips feel so damn good on your neck. how did he learn which places make you melt so quickly?

"tell me to stop. tell me no, and we don't have to keep going." his breath is hot on your neck, and the feeling of his body pressing you against the wall of his driver's room makes you dizzy.

you shake your head. "keep going." you swear you can feel him smirk against your neck.

"that's what i like to hear." he resumes his actions, kissing, biting, and licking all along your neck, but being gentle enough to not leave any marks that would make the media suspect a single thing had happened. his hands, however, roam your body, squeezing and groping wherever he can- your waist, hips, ass, thighs, and tits all become victim of his hold, and when he reaches beneath your bra and pinches your nipple, you moan. loud.

pierre pulls back, and you whine, the loss of stimulation leaving you breathless. "amour." you raise your eyebrows, questioning what he's up to. "you have to be quiet." you nod, and he grins devilishly before dragging you over to the couch, shoving his race suit down to his ankles, and popping the button on your jeans. "you promise you can be quiet?"

"yes, pierre, i promise, now please, fuck me already."

"as you wish," he snips back, unzipping your jeans before leaning back to pull his fireproofs and boxers down as you kick your heels off and step out of your jeans and panties. when you straddle his thighs and pierre guides you down on his cock, you forget the whole 'staying quiet' thing and, once again, moan way too loudly, your eyes shut in biss. your moan is cut off by pierre's fingers on your tongue, and, on instinct, you close your mouth on them. "there we go. that shut you up, didn't it?" your eyes roll, and your hips rock on instinct, but now your moans are muffled by pierre's fingers. "look at you. getting yourself off on my cock with my fingers in your mouth, just so the entire motorhome doesn't know how good you are for me? you're so filthy, and you look absolutely gorgeous doing it." you moan again, and saliva drips out of your mouth and down pierre's fingers, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

it isn't long before your thighs burn in exhaustion, and pierre opts for fucking up into you, making a mental note to his physio to thank him for never letting him skip leg day. his fingers slide out of your mouth and he brings you towards him, kissing you with more hunger and fervor than he ever has. it makes you dizzy how good you feel, and before you know it, you're cumming on his cock, a broken moan swallowed greedily by pierre's lips.

"there you go, amour. so good for me."

136 notes · View notes

binsito · 1 year ago

Text

subaru

pairing: han jisung x fem reader

genre: enemies to lovers

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature, includes: swearing, jisung is kind of an asshole to reader at first, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, mentions of death but in an exaggerated way due to being upset over a situation (no one actually dies, just used as a hyperbole here and there), an altercation where someone gets slapped on the face, slight mentions of reckless driving (they like to street race n shit!), words such as "stupid", "idiot", "dumbass", "bitch" etc are used, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of cum play, pet names such as "baby" are used. i think thats it??

disclaimer: i am not too involved in the car community although i do love cars ashsh so if i got anything inaccurate i apologize but it's just a silly lil fic okie!!!!!! also not entirely proof read lmfao

subaru wrx with a clean build.

it was baby pink, low to the ground with bright blue led headlights. the color combination was absolutely sick.

it was fucking gorgeous and jisung couldn't help but be jealous.

it was two in the morning and he had decided that he wanted to grab some mcdonalds, his sleep schedule was shit and all he ever did was watch movies, smoke, eat-

typical boy shit.

but aside from all of that, han jisung had an extreme infatuation with cars, more specifically street racing cars.

none of that corny fast and the furious shit, he was seriously into car modifications and speeding whenever he was sure there wasn't a cop around to catch him (even if there was one, he'd probably floor it to get out of the mess like an idiot, catch-me-if-you-can mentality). he had built his old honda civic up from scratch and it had been pretty loyal to him thus far. that was his baby, his girl, he loved his car more than anything and it was his pride and joy.

however that subaru was definitely one of his dream cars. something he hoped to get his hands on one day when his civic decided it was time to bite the dust.

he was sure he had seen all the street racing cars in his city, he had gone to plenty of car meets to know.. but this subaru was new and he had never seen it before. he definitely would've known if someone in his car community got a new vehicle..

you two were the only cars on the highway right now, the city was mostly dead - perfect time to get some action in.

he drove closely to the car, right next to it, lowering his passenger window to look over at the driver.

he couldn't see shit through the tint, trying to get their attention by revving his engine at them but they seemed to pay no mind

who was this guy? why was he going to have such a badass car and not use it to its fullest potential? why even bother getting a racing car if you weren't going to put your foot to the pedal?

was this guy just being an asshole? jisung clearly was trying to race, trying to get their attention..

the least they could do was tell him no?

whatever.. jisung thought, pulling up his window before speeding off, smoke obnoxiously coming out of his exhaust as he drove.

that weekend, jisung had gone to a car meet, it was something he participated in once a month, it gave him something exciting to look forward to.

looking at all the cool modifications his friends have invested in for their cars - whether they got a fresh wrap, new lights, whatever it was, he was excited to see it.

he pulled up in his car, parking in reverse next to the other vehicles in the lot.

once he stepped out, everyone greeted him and they caught up, talking about whatever came to mind

"i saw this fucking baby pink subaru wrx.. none of you got a new car and didn't tell me right? you know how fucking much i love those damn cars!" he whines

"uh no actually.. did you race it?" "no the guy must've had a stick up his ass because he didn't even acknowledge me.." "well i'm sure you'll see them around again, it'll be hard to miss a baby pink wrx, trust me" his friend giggles.

jisung knew he was right, how many pink subarus could there possibly be in this town? (lucky for him, just one)

"hey jisung! there's your car!" his friends giggle when they catch sight of the pink subaru pulling up to the meet. the last thing he expected was to see them again so soon, here of all places.

"holy shit" he groans, he was dying to see who the asshole behind the wheel was, but they never seemed to get down, and those blasted tints might as well have been illegal because he could barely make out the shape of a person in there.

instead they rev their engine, jisung's friend urging him to get into his car and race them. so now this asshole wants to race, huh? he thought as he got into his car, pulling up next to the subaru as they drove out into the street. both getting their cars ready and as soon as the lights turned green, they were off. the area they were racing in didn't have many stoplights and was normally empty at this time of night. jisung knew this road like the back of his palm, so he felt like he had the advantage.

he was not about to lose to this person, no way in hell. he had so much faith in his old civic, it had never failed him before, so it better not fail him now.

(but the subaru was sooo kicking his ass and it was making his blood boil.)

they raced in a loop back to the lot where the other cars were at, his friends waiting with anticipation, watching as the subaru arrived first, jisung was furious.

how could he lose to this guy? his ego took a huge hit.

to make matters worse, the driver finally rolled down their window

"i hate racing guys that have those dumb anime stickers on their car.." you smirked.

jisung gritted his teeth.

a girl? a car girl?

(those were his dream girls, but how dare she insult his anime stickers..)

"better luck next time buddy.."

oh he could not stand you.. (but that was just his fragility speaking.)

his friends held back their giggles as they rushed over to the cars, they crowded over you, checking out the wheels on your car and complimenting them.

jisung wanted to explode, who even were you anyways? your car wasn't even that cool or that fast (he was lying to himself).

(he was soo fucking jealous)

unfortunately for jisung, that wasn't the last time he saw you.

you also began attending the car meets once a month and were quickly becoming acquainted with his friends.

great.

they had learned that you had moved to this city for a job and were excited to find another group of car enthusiasts. you were scared that maybe you wouldn't find a group but you were proven wrong.

everyone got along well with you except.. han jisung of course!

his friends had told him to grow up and get over it but he just couldn't seem to let it go, once he had a bad first impression of someone, there was no changing his mind.

it was childish, but that was han jisung for you.

he hated how you were becoming a part of his friend group, how his friends were inviting you over to their garage on saturdays to maintenance your cars together.

and he couldn't be more obvious with his hate. he made it his job to make it very clear to you that you were not welcome here.

"hey jisung can you pass me that-"

his foot coming to kick the wrench in your general direction while you worked underneath your car.

"dude piss off. seriously." his friend chan spoke up. he was the one trying the hardest to keep things neutral between everyone.

you tried not to let it bother you, although you were not stupid and knew jisung didn't like you one bit.

it made you a little upset the way he treated you.

you felt like you had to apologize. maybe the whole anime sticker thing really hurt his feeling? you didn't mean to hurt him but maybe you took it too far before you even got to know him?

you didn't want things to be like this if you were going to keep hanging around him. you'd find the time to apologize one of these days for sure.

see, han jisung was charming when you weren't around or when he thought you weren't looking.

he was actually a pretty funny guy.

(you loved funny guys, had a thing for them even..)

so you tried to incorporate humor when you tried talking to him but he always just looked at you blankly or let the joke go over his head purposely.

you were starting to feel like you'd never be able to apologize to him. and if you did, you were sure he wouldn't even accept it. this was so much harder than you anticipated, why couldn't he just let you make things right?

the only time han jisung ever talked about you without a front was when he was drinking with chan in the garage. they kept a fridge in there stocked with water and snacks and jisung was thrilled to see his favorite kind of beer in there one day. it seemed that drinking made jisung so much more open, like it made him just spill whatever was on his mind easily. it could sometimes put him in sticky situations but it also ratted his true feelings out. chan figured he could get some info out of him.

"your civic is getting old, dude.." chan teased him, taking a sip out of his beer can.

jisung just hiccuped and laughed.

"don't call my baby that.. she's all i got.." he smiled stupidly

"i think she's keeping the ladies away from you"

jisung waved him off and shook his head "nuh uh.. she's a babe magnet trust me.."

"what babe is she exactly pulling? cops handing you speeding tickets don't count" chan laughs

"that subaru bitch.. fuck if she wasn't so annoying.. i think i'd fucking kiss her.."

"she's got a name you know? she's only annoying to you 'cause you want to hate her." "no, she's annoying.. hot but annoying. like cool.. you like cars too, whateverrr.." he slurs

"what if you guys talked it out?"

"would rather die, channie my boy.. besides what if it get out of hand? what if she's angry hot or somethin'?.. no thanks.." he was holding on to one of the rolling carts in the garage only to almost fall over.

"you are the most stubborn person i know, han jisung." he shook his head

chan knew jisung had a tiny crush on you, there was no doubt about it. but he knew his best friend well to know he would never admit to it. god he was so dumb sometimes.

before you were in the picture, he would always talk about wanting a girlfriend who liked cars. how they could modify their cars together, go to meets hand in hand in their obnoxiously fast and loud cars..

(han jisung loved car girls.. had a thing for them even..)

but chan just kept this information to himself, didn't out jisung's crush to you. he wasn't that kind of friend. if it was meant to happen, he'd let it unfold.

things remained virtually the same after that conversation with chan, most times jisung couldn't remember anything he said after he drank so he wasn't even aware he basically told chan he liked you.

on this particular saturday, chan wasn't in the garage.

normally jisung wouldn't care, he knew where everything was and he could just start working on his car on his own.

but you were there.

you were there and it was pissing jisung off.

"what are you doing here?"

"oh.. i thought channie was gonna be here and i came so we could rotate my tires-"

"ew.. don't call him that.. channie? gross."

"well you call him that so what's the problem?" "i'm his friend. i'm not trying to fuck him."

to say you were offended was an understatement. maybe you shouldn't even waste your breath apologizing to him, seemed whatever this is was irreparable.

"you're a real piece of shit you know that? i'm not trying to fuck chan, he's my friend too."

"yeah well i've known him for ages so.. and i just know when a girl is just trying to fuck him, like it's so obvious.. could you be anymore obvious? jeez. like why are you even coming in here with those slutty shorts and-"

oh god.

you knew you shouldn't have done that but he had it coming.

your hand stinging after the impact.

shit, this was bad.

you slapped han jisung straight across the face.

"f-fuck jisung- i-i-"

he was angry. face red.

you swore you could see smoke coming out of him.

"get out of here. NOW." he said angrily between gritted teeth.

you didn't want to see where this would escalate so you quickly ran out, tears stinging at your eyes.

shit. you felt like you just ruined everything.

chan would be mad right? you hit his best friend across the face.. should you call him? you didn't want to burden him. ever since you started hanging out with them, all you've ever done was cause problems to arise. it was hard not to agitate han jisung when you all were together. things must've been fine before you joined the scene..

you decided it was best to just remove yourself from them and let them be.

after two weeks of not seeing you or hearing from you, chan knew something was up so he decided to confront jisung. he had invited him over to play video games and jisung showed up within the hour of being asked.

chan didn't feel like beating around the bush, this was getting out of hand and he needed to figure out how to make peace.

after two rounds of call of duty, chan looked over at jisung.

"mind telling me what happened that day i wasn't in at the garage?"

"what are you talking about?"

"don't play dumb ji.. come on. we both know better than that. it's been two weeks and i haven't heard or seen of y/n. i texted her and at first she was giving me excuses to not show up at meets or come over on saturdays but now she's straight up ghosting me."

"maybe she got tired of being annoying-"

"han jisung, get a fucking grip dude. she is NOT annoying. you're being a fucking asshole. you know she's been trying to apologize to you right? are you that stupid? you think she's just trying to crack jokes and bring us beer because she wants to be annoying?"

"no she's doing that because she's trying to fuc-"

"holy shit, you are a lost cause. i didnt buy the beer and it was never for me okay? she brought it for you because i told her you liked that kind and they don't sell it in any of the shops here, only that one liquor place twenty minutes from here. and i lied to her, i told her i'd be there saturday and i wasn't just so maybe, you'd be a nice guy for once and help her rotate her tires. clearly you didn't fucking do that."

"maybe i would've if she didn't fucking slap me."

"she slapped you? well you know what, maybe you fucking deserved it? if i were her i'd do a little bit more than just a little slap. i'd rock your fucking shit for being so fucking insufferable. you're my best friend but right now, you are being the most goddamn pathetic person ever. all because she kicked your ass in a race? because you like her car? because she poked a little fun at you that day?"

jisung started to get up, dropping the controller on the couch and walking towards the door, he knew chan was right but he was too prideful to admit it. chan didn't bother stopping him, he knew he had to let him reflect on everything. the only way jisung would ever listen was if he talked hard to him, it was the only way for his thick skull to understand.

jisung was embarrassed.

his ego getting the best of him.

he knew it was too late to backtrack everything he's said and done.

he fucked up and these were the consequences.

and karma had a way with things because as he was on his way home, his car finally gave out in the middle of the highway. thankfully nothing happened and he was able to make it to the side of the road quickly but he was so upset.

he couldn't help but cry as he sat on the hood of his car. he didn't even know who to call for help. he just sat there contemplating what to do while tears blurred his vision.

he wanted to kick and scream and throw himself in the middle of traffic but before he took a leap in front of a semi, he saw that godforsaken baby pink wrx.

he figured you would drive by him and not give a shit, maybe even roll down your window to laugh and point at him but you pulled up behind his car and got out.

maybe he had died before he made it to the side of the road and he was now entering his personal hell.

"han jisung? are you okay?"

he didn't answer you, instead he looked down at his feet.

"i'm trying to help. you're lucky i was on my way home and i saw you." you said, walking towards him

"hey, i'm talking to you, idiot. want me to just leave you and your stupid car here?" you shouted, hoping to get him to snap out of it.

he shook his head and sniffled

"just..get in my car okay? i'll call a tow truck." you sighed

he didn't question you, he just walked over and got in the passenger seat. jisung wasn't surprised that the interior was sleek, black leather with pink accents and led lights. you got in contact with a towing company, thankfully they came fairly quickly and took care of jisung's car.

you got back inside your car and started your engine before looking over at him.

"nothing happened right? you're fine?" "she just gave out on me.. i'm fine.." he mumbled.

you nodded and asked him to put in his address.

after that it just went quiet.

it felt tense but not like before. like there were things you both wanted to say but decided not to.

after fifteen minutes on the road, you pulled up to his apartment.

he didn't move to get out and you didn't urge him to.

"i'm sorry about your car jisung.. a-and i-i'm also so fucking sorry that i hit you.." you spoke up, breaking the silence.

"no.. it's cool.. i deserved it. thank you for stopping for me. that's really nice of you.. even after i was such a dick."

you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap

"i've been trying to make things right between us.. i know maybe what i said about your car that first time we met might've been rude but i didn't mean it like that.. friendly competition you know? but maybe i went too far.. i'm sorry.."

"no seriously.. it's fine. i'm the one that was being an asshole.. i'm the one who's sorry okay? your car is super sick and you're actually a really cool girl.. i just guess i got intimidated by you. that sounds really fucking lame doesn't it?"

you laugh and nod at him "super lame.."

he just smiled softly and let out a chuckle.

"i guess.. truce then? you owe me anyways for the ride home.." you held out a pinky for him, he wrapped his own around yours without hesitating

"truce.

oh and.. thanks for the beer."

you blushed softly, hoping he wouldn't notice.

(he definitely did. he thought it was cute.)

"oh yeah.. it was nothing. i just had a box in my house and i thought you guys would enjoy it more than i would."

(and he knew that was a lie too. that you had gone out of your way to buy a pack and didn't just have it lying around your house.)

"right right.. well thanks..

um listen there's a meet coming up.. you haven't really been around lately so.. are you gonna come? chan's been worried about you and i know it's my fault you've been m.i.a.."

"mm.. i dunno.. i feel kinda weird just showing up after ghosting him.." you said softly.

"i'll take care of that okay?"

"how do you plan on showing up if you don't have a car?" you teased

"well i could ask chan- no no.. he'd ask me what happened.. he's so nosey, dammit.." "i'll pick you up han jisung.. don't sweat it." you laughed and in turn it made him laugh.

the next order of business was him figuring out his feelings for you now that he had apologized and formed a truce with you.

he hoped he didn't fuck things up too badly. hoped that maybe he'd finally grow a pair of balls and face the fact that he liked you.

jisung knew it was gonna be crazy for him to show up the car meet with you.

in your car.

he knew chan was going to question and pull him aside and bombard him with a thorough interrogation.

but he tries not to think about it, not while he's shaking with nerves as he watches you pull up to his apartment, honking at him to alert him of your arrival but your loud ass exhaust pipes gave you away the second you entered his neighborhood.

he walks up to your door, hearing you click it open for him to get in.

and god, did you always dress this pretty to go to meets or is today a special occasion? cute blouse with a pleated skirt and converse to tie it all together.

so, so pretty..

"welcome to the barbie subie" you joked which earned you a smile from him

he buckled up and you were off, jisung enjoying the way you shifted gears and drove your car so flawlessly.

part of him didn't even want to go to the meet anymore.

all of him wanted to just pull over somewhere, lean back in his chair and talk to you for hours.

"han jisung is awfully quiet.." you giggled

but he didn't find it amusing, instead he shrugged.

"oh come on.. i thought we were doing good. what's wrong now?"

"you really wanna go to this meet?" "i mean.. you're kinda the one who invited me remember?"

"well yeah but.. i don't know if i wanna go anymore y'know?" "are you embarrassed of being seen with me or something? jeez man you got some serious ego issues to deal with-" "no no! it's just i dunno.. i think i just.. fuck.. don't laugh okay? don't you dare fucking laugh.."

you shook your head and bit your lip in hopes of hiding the smile creeping up on you

"i just kinda wanna hang out? like.. just with you.. and without chan asking a million questions. just us two alone.." "so like a date is what you're saying?"

"what! fuck no!"

you frowned but only to mess with him.

"w-well shit yes okay! but like you didn't have to say that yeah? admitting it makes me feel funny.."

"it's okay jisung. it's growth and you're lucky i think you're cute so i'm taking the offer."

jisung feels like he could jump out of your car from how crazy he's feeling right now. and he's so mad at himself for being such a dumbass before because maybe he could've been going on dates with you so much sooner.

he could melt into a puddle right in your seat.

especially when you tell him you've found this huge empty lot by a construction site that you two could go make donuts.

even more so when you tell him he can drive your car.

and jisung feels like he's in some insane car wet dream of his because there's no actual way he's in your car, driving, you at his side laughing hysterically while your car spins in circles, tires screeching as it leaves dark circular skid marks.

"j-jisung! jisung holy shit!" you laugh as you hang on tightly "i'm gonna hurl!"

he stops the car and his sides hurt from laughing. cheeks sore from the huge smile he had been wearing. and when he looks at you, he feels like such an idiot because he really wants to kiss you and he regrets wasting so much time hating you for no good reason.

and you feel the same desire.

you want to kiss his stupid, stupid face.

want him to finally admit he fucking likes you.

thank god you're both finally on the same page. both leaning in at the same time and bumping into each other with a laugh.

"you first.. please.." you whisper, he cups your face and leans in to capture your lips. fluttering his eyes closed as he gets to feel your soft mouth on his. letting out a pleased sigh as he deepens the kiss.

kissing someone had never felt this good before.

when you pull away, he almost whines, almost begs you to come back. he watches as you lick your lips, almost as if collecting whatever remnants of him were left on yours.

(he'd be lying if he said he didn't think it was hot.)

and he looks at you confused when you get up and crawl into the back seat of your car, gesturing him to come join you. basically knocking over himself as he rushes to get back there.

was jisung about to fuck his dream girl in his dream car? if you told him this a few weeks ago, he'd laugh in your face.

"by the way stupid.. i was trying to fuck you not chan.." you laugh

his face is so fucking red and his cock is so unbearably hard, he almost felt humiliated.

"why didn't you say something then?"

"cause you'd never even give me a chance to.. besides i thought you said you can tell when girls want to fuck someone? was i not being obvious enough for you?" you tease him, using his own logic against him.

he physically face palms, he'd have to make a reminder to never be so fucking stupid again. he'd have to learn to not open his big mouth sometimes.

"fuck. whatever okay? we get it, i was stupid."

"i'm not letting you live it down, ever." you smiled crawling over to him to give him another kiss

he pulls you close, grips your hips tightly. he was so needy but that doesn't come as a surprise to you.

"shit.. i wish i could've fucked you stupid in my civic.. make you regret ever calling her names.." he groans

"shh.. be quiet.. you talk too much.." you teased.

he quickly pressed you down into your seats, hovering over you as he pulled off his shirt. you leaned up to touch the tattoos littered over his skin. he should work shirtless in the garage you think. why doesn't he? maybe it would distract you but that would be alright with you.

and he doesn't waste a second pulling off your top, hastily unclipping your bra to let your tits spill out for him, slapping them before taking one in his mouth and moaning.

your legs wrapped around his torso, tugging him closer, desperately to feel him against your crotch

"fuck jisung.. take it out.. i wanna see it.." you whine

he pulls back to unbuckle his jeans shimmying them off while in the process hitting his head against the roof a couple of times. you laugh at him and reach forward to help him tug them down, boxers soon following suit, letting his cock spring free.

"now i wanna see yours." he gives you a stupid little side smile and you pull your skirt up to reveal your panties. black thong that would soon be thrown out of sight. you hook your fingers on them and tug them down, throwing them at jisung once they were off your legs. he caught them and give them a nice sniff to which you slapped his arm and laughed, calling him a pervert.

he quickly manhandled you into position. he wanted to take you from behind, wanted to lap you nice and clean before he even dared sinking his cockhead inside of you.

working your pussy with his tongue, his hands spreading your asscheeks open for him to be able to embed himself within you. he could stay like this forever. he could live off eating your cunt for the rest of his life.

you were soaking.

some of it dripping on to your leather seats which made jisung fucking lose it

"your car's gonna need some detailing on the interior once we're done.." his hot breath fanning against your pussy as he lands a spank on your ass

"i think my pussy needs detailing first.." you giggle and jisung lets out a grunt. you couldn't joke with him like that, he could fucking die!

he spits on his cock and and uses it to work himself, pumping his length and letting his tip collect some of your essence so he could rub it in with his palm.

he presses an inch in, hearing your breath hitch as you scramble to hold on to the door, anticipating him to completely ruin you.

he curses as he feels your tight pussy swallow whatever he gives you, starting with an inch, then two, then three.

holding still to not overwhelm his cock and blow right then and there, he still had to work the rest in and he was already feeling his balls tighten at the sensation of your warmth.

once he collects himself, he bottoms out. taking a deep breath as he holds your hips and starts to set a steady pace.

the way your pussy was gripping on him was making him dizzy. hearing you moan his name and reaching a hand back for him made his ego and cock swell. he grabbed your hand and held it behind your back as he pressed you further up against the door.

you didn't seem to care about how uncomfortable it was at the moment, all you cared about was that han jisung was using your cunt and it felt so fucking good.

your face pressed against the window as you mumbled incoherently, he picked up the pace as a sheen of sweat started to form on his body.

"fuck.. this pussy is so greedy.. holy shit.." he groans loudly

he could barely pull out, cunt too tight and hungry for him to even let go.

"this pussy is mine now got it? m' making it mine.."

"yours now jisung..fuck yes.. gonna cum in it right?"

"you can fucking bet on that, baby.. gonna fuck you full and have you keep it in until the next car meet. then i'll just fill you up all over again, got it?"

you moaned in agreement, you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of jisung's cum. maybe you'd go home and play with yourself, pressing your fingers inside of you in hopes of collecting some to rub against your clit. or maybe you'd bring it up to your lips to taste him, to imagine it's actually his cock in your mouth and not your fingers.

"shit jisung.. i-i'm gonna cum.. keep going baby please.."

the pet name has him reeling, it makes him animalistic, pounding into you so hard that the car starts shaking. if anyone were to pass by, they'd know exactly what was going on inside your car.

he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, pinching it a few times to hear you yelp.

"come on baby.. cream on my cock.. milk me yeah?" his chest pressed against your back while he whispered pure filth in your ear.

he could feel your pussy clamping down on him as you reached your orgasm, body shaking as it ripped through you, cumming with his name on your lips.

it was finally too much for him so he lets himself go, letting his cum seep into your walls as he finished inside of you, making sure not a drop is spilled.

"fuck jisung.. that was a lot.." you whined, afraid that if you moved too much you'd make a huge mess for sure.

"sorry.. just had to get my point across. i was serious about this pussy- well.. you.. being mine.." he laughs shyly

"we can discuss that topic later and see if it fits into the terms and conditions of our truce." you giggled.

he smiled and helped you up carefully to give you a soft kiss.

at least he was right about his honda civic being a babe magnet, right?

his car sacrificed herself for this moment and han jisung couldn't be too mad about it.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung #han jisung smut #binsito #han smut #skz han

378 notes · View notes