#well except two slightly deeper ones

[squirting-sub]

Doing knife play that leaves cuts and she goes "Don't tell your therapist about this."

[tonycries]

WAP!

Synopsis. How was he expected to not lose control the first time he goes in raw?

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mating press, jealousy (Nanami’s side), improper use of Gojo’s technique, true form! Sukuna, dp, praise, creampíe, spítting, really REALLY needy pússydrunk boys, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k (whoops)

A/N. Got a bit carried away but oh well hehehe.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “A-another?”

Toji Fushiguro never stutters, he never sounds unsure, he never lets that deep baritone voice of his break so pathetically at the end of his sentence. 

Except for now, that is.

With you folded into such a mean mating press, spreading your shaky legs to flash him that heavenly view. As if that wasn’t enough to have Toji’s head spinning already, you give him a hazy, determined nod, “Another.”

Another. Oh, it’s all he can do to hold back a guttural groan when thumbing apart your puffy folds, eyeing the way you were clenching up at him eagerly.

“Another, huh?” Toji echoes, his free hand coming up to slide back that thin layer of plastic on his swollen cock. Slow. Torturously slow. Hissing at the cool air kissing his aching length, “Then-” He glides his leaky tip across your glossy entrance, smirking at the way you arch into it like such a slut. “-this pretty cunt better actually give me another kid, doll.”

And then Toji’s pushing in - slow, ruthless little pistons of his hips that have you scrambling further and further up the mattress. Veins pulsing against your plushy walls in a feverish thump! thump! thump! 

Of course, he wasn’t faring any better. 

“O-oh.” Toji throws his head back, brows scrunching at the feeling of your sweet sweet cunt. “So this is- fuck- what ya feel like, hm? Hold on- wait- wanna test something-” 

“Ngh! Oh-” you squeal when two thick fingers dip down to toy with your throbbing clit, bucking your hips up in a way that has Toji sinking in deeper. Blinking away the shocked tears behind your lids, “T-Toji– don’t be mean.”

But you doubted he could hear you - fuck, you doubted Toji was even breathing at this point. Because his eyes were widened, jaw dagging open ever-so-slightly to moan, “Fuck- oh my god- ya squeeze me ngh- even tighter without that fucking condom.”

And he’s so fucking awe-struck - and you’re being fucked so dumb - that you don’t even realize it when he’s bottoming out. Still pushing in, trying to squeeze even deeper into your gummy walls. 

“F-fuck can’t believe you’ve been holdin’ out.” he spits, sounding so genuinely bewildered, pulling your hips back messily to meet his. Heavy balls smacking you with each rough, depraved thrust inside. “Ohhh m’never letting ya hold out on me again, doll.”

Your nails leave angry, red marks down, down, down his sculpted back. Glassy eyes begging - pleading for any once of mercy for the monster you’ve brought on. “N-never?”

He gives your ravaged clit a light smack! with the pads of his fingers - both a little punishment and a sneaky little way to feel you clamp down on his thick cock in surprise again. Huffing out a low laugh, “Yeahhh you’re not getting off easy. Never.” And, usually, Toji was so suave, so infuriatingly in control - but right now he’s running his mouth as sloppily as his hips. Panting into your open mouth, “Gonna hafta let me f-feel this cute pussy all the fuckin’ time now. Gonna hafta let me breed her.”

And shit it wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. 

In a split second, Toji falls back onto his knees, pulling you upright to splay out so prettily on his lap. The change in position pushing him in deeper and deeper and-

“That’s what I hah- like to see-” One hand squishes your cheeks together and forces you to look down at the way your poor pussy was bulging and struggling around Toji’s cock. So so angry and drenched with all your syrupy sweet juices, glistening all the way down to his twitching balls. “Ya look so much oh- shit- better drooling all over me and not some condom, doll.” Toji’s sharp teeth graze your ear, abs rippling underneath your touch as fucks up into you so animalistically. So ferally. Sharp, long jabs of his hips, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over. “N’ even better when she’s ngh- painted white, right?”

The only response you’re stupidly giving him are a handful of teary whimpers, thighs burning with the wet smack of skin on skin. 

And the way you’re bucking down pathetically to meet his ruthless cadence, but you don’t  even realize that until Toji lets out a strangled groan. “Heh, ya like that?”

“Mhm.” you whine. “L-like it so- much- like feeling you like this- ah-”

He’s pulling you into a messy kiss - if it can even be called that, just a lazy, messy drag of his lips and that scar against your lolling open mouth, “Tha’s my girl. Ya like feeling me raw, hm?” Each word nudges his fat head against your bruised g-spot in a way that has Toji so drunk, so high off you and that pretty cunt. Twiddling a thumb on your sensitive nub. Over and over and over. “Ya like the ohh- fuck- idea of giving me another? Making Megs a big brother?”

“Yes! Fuck yes yes yes I-”

Toji doesn’t hear the rest of your sentence - nor does he really give a shit. Not when your cute cunt is squeezing around him so fucking tight that it was almost hard to ram his cock inside. 

Milking the fucking soul out of him as you cum, a broken little ah! ah! ah! leaves your mouth when with a couple, sloppy thrusts Toji can’t help but paint your pussy a sinful white. Thick, hot ropes of his seed that slosh inside your gummy walls - cumming and cumming so much that he feels it drip out your slit.

Meshing together in a lewd combination at the soaked base of his still-rock hard cock, one that makes Toji keen gruffly. Pooling his seed on the pads of his fingers, he bullies them back into your still-stuffed hole, “So…are we sure it took?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Right here right now

Everyone knows Nanami Kento as a patient man - a sensible one. The one person at the office they could trust with anything and everything.

Only you knew Nanami Kento as the type of man to just drag you into the break room in the middle of the work day, spitting out a barely-there excuse about “a meeting” to the rest of your confused coworkers. When in reality he was shoving you near the nearest flat surface and bunching your cute skirt up at your hips. 

“Ken- what-” you sputter in a daze, blinking up at the panting man above you. “What happened?”

The only answer you’re getting is the clink-clink-clink of Nanami’s belt unbuckling, stray strands of blond sticking to his furrowed forehead as he takes in your slutty position. 

Scoffing, “Can you at least tell me what-”

Your words die in your throat at the feeling of something so warm and rock-hard making a mess of you down below. And - sure enough - you’re met with the sight of Nanami’s fingers nudging apart your flimsy panties - just enough for his fat head to kiss against your puffy folds. Sending a fresh wave of your slick coating his hand once more. 

“Don’t have a condom.” he speaks to you properly for the first time since coming in here, gruff and strained against your ear. “Guess we’ll hafta make do, darling.”

Fuck, you’ve never gone without a condom with your boyfriend before - but now that you’ve felt the sensation of his deep slit rubbing against your hole, the dip of his veins tracing against your walls, well, shit you think you might just be addicted. 

Nanami isn’t too far behind - because he lets out a deep groan. “O-oh. Fuck, remind me to do this more often.” Chest heaving as he pulls out ever-so-slightly, only to run a fist down his length, smearing your syrupy sweet juices in a glossy sheen along his cock. “Who said you can feel this haah- fucking good, my love? This all f’me?”

It’s only with this that you’re realizing that he still hasn’t explained yet. 

Reaching out a hand to pull on Nanami’s favorite yellow tie, you bring his face mere millimeters from yours. Breathing out, “E-explain or m’walking out.” 

You wouldn’t - you knew that. And Nanami did too, but that didn’t stop that greedy part of himself from stilling inside your puffy folds, having you struggling and clenching with the effort to take in his girth. 

“Jus’ wanted to hah- feel you. To really feel you.” he’s nosing up your racing pulse. Strong hands pushing your legs so far apart on the table that it burned. “To actually prove to this cute pussy that she’s mine. S’that s-so wrong?” He’s fucking you like he wants to prove a point - in long, purposeful strokes that roam for your g-spot. Gritting out, “Especially when you’re so warm. So heavenly. N’ some people here can’t take a hint.”

Ah, so that’s what it was all about - that new intern at the office who seemed particularly attached to you lately. Enough so that it had Nanami acting like this - not that you were complaining, obviously. 

No sooner is the realization hitting you that Nanami’s smashing into your sensitive spot. Hard.

A large hand hastily covers your mouth as soon as it sags open. Only growing more and more desperate when Nanami starts up a quick tempo. Hitting it over and over and over- “Shhh shhh, darling.” he groans, fucking you deeper and deeper into the table. “I know it’s good. Ngh- oh my god you feel fucking perfect- But we wouldn’t want ‘em to hear, right? Though-” And then he’s flashing such an uncharacteristically smug smile, gaze just devouring you through his long lashes. “-wouldn’t mind ‘em knowing that you’re mine.”

And it seems like he was torn between forming coherent thoughts and just rambling about how sinfully good you felt. 

“K-Ken-”

But Nanami wasn’t done - far from it, in fact. He was running his mouth, words slurring and stumbling with each jolt of his hips forward. 

“Shh, let me do all the work, darling.” Drawing gentle, purposeful circles on your clit, “Jus’ sit there n’- hngh- let me feel this pussy some more. Let her soak me some more. Been waitin’ for this too long- oh- They’d never know, right?”

It’s all you can do to nod, barely-lucidly, “N-never. Only you, Ken.”

And now, unfortunately for you and your poor cunt, it just seemed like Nanami was pussydrunk off the feeling of your gummy walls milking the fucking soul out of him. No longer just proving a point - no, oh, he was lost in the way you were so soft. So messy - forming a cute pool of slick on the table below, on his heavy balls. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Fuck him. Fuck them all.” 

You flinch as he catches your lips to spit out heated little profanities into your open mouth, biting and tugging filthily on yours. Almost babbling at this point, “They’ll n-never know how ngh fucking heavenly this cunt feels. How perfect you’re wrapped around me.”

Both the obscene squelches from below and your broken little whimpers were reaching a feverish height, coupled with Nanami’s rumbling groans. And it’s only when you let out a particularly loud whine of “Ken–” that makes him grow even girthier inside you. 

Stretching you out so good, he lets out a warning whisper. Low and dangerous, “Careful.” Sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine - all the way to your ravaged cunt, “I hear he’s got a meeting here soon.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The cocky one

“Hah, such a cocky smile, gorgeous.” Geto shakes his head down at where you were on all fours for him. Arched like such a slut against his angry tip, throbbing and glistening between your legs. “You sure you’re oh-”

Whatever mean little retort - and that smirk - is wiped clean off of Geto’s pretty lips when you fuck yourself back onto his rock-hard cock. Gritting your teeth at the sheer stretch when your sloppy hole finds his red, leaky tip, determinedly stuttering him down, down, down until your ass was pressed up against those tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

“W-whoops.” you sigh when your skin smacks against his abs, tone saccharine sweet. “What were you hah- saying, dear?”

Geto lets out a strangled groan, head tipping back, fingers blindly finding your hips to keep them from fidgeting. Fuck, you were so heavenly - so addictive. He could feel himself rubbing up against every ridge and dip of your tight pussy. 

“You little bitch.” he sighs, heavy eyes locked on where the two of you were connected. Your pussy lips bulging so sinfully around him, making him grow even larger. Longer - hitting spots you never knew existed. “Now that’s just ngh- playing unfair.”

Unfair? Oh, you could teach him about ‘unfair’. Unfair was when he’s jutting his hips forward in slow, shallow strokes just to fit inside - no rhythm or rhyme, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Unfair was when he strikes your ass with a sharp smack! grinning at the way the flesh jiggles against his palm.

Unfair is when he leans down to murmur thickly, the change in angle having him barrelling deeper inside your snug cunt. “Isn’t it?”

“N-no.” your lower lip wobbles. 

“N-n-no.” Geto grins, “Stuttering too? That’s crazy, what happened to my smug girl from- hah- before- oh fuck-” 

But oh for all how cocky Geto was acting, he was so weak against the way your gummy walls clench down so fucking tight around him - on purpose. Stuttering down to milk him like you wanted to draw out something delicious. Like you couldn’t stand being even a hair’s breadth away. 

“Haaa…” he lets out a broken shudder, two hands wrapping underneath your inner thighs to just drag your sloppy further down, settling deep - so impossibly deep - into your gut. Distantly, some part of him hoped that you left marks - a cute lil’ ass print against his abs for him to admire later. “Fuck- fine. Fine-” 

You whirl your teary eyes over your shoulder - and it was so difficult to look behind you. Because Geto was so unfairly pretty - long, inky hair curtaining his pussydrunk eyes, twirling all the way down to where his delicate blush dusted all over his cheeks, his chest, his rock-hard abs. Involuntarily, you find your sloppy cunt clenching again, rubbing up so deliciously against that prominent vein down the middle of Geto’s length. 

That coaxes out another drawn-out groan from your boyfriend, and a traitorous buck of his hips - his fat head hitting right on your g-spot. “I said fine.” he barks out, teeth bared. “Y-you win. Ngh- you win the bet. Fuuuck you win, just let me- ngh just let me fuck this pretty cunt. Now.”

Ah, right. The bet - that single, mindless little comment earlier today about who’d break first if you two went in raw. 

And, clearly, there was an obvious winner. 

Because Geto isn’t waiting around for your kiss-bitten lips to drop into some taunting remark, hell, he can’t even wait for you to register his words before letting his hips lose control. Ramming into you in quick, jagged thrusts that abuse your hidden sweet spots. 

Over and over and-

“Y’feel so soft, gorgeous.” he purrs into your ear, pushing all his all his body weight in an attempt to hold your slutty cunt still. Setting up such a mean pace, “So warm- ngh n’ m’tired of pretending it isn’t driving me crazy.”

You keen when Geto cranes his fingers to deftly roll over your clit, “S-so much for not breaking first.”

“Awww c’mon now.” Geto’s balls smacking against your ass get louder - harsher. “I already s-said you win. Hah-” God, he’s barely in control of himself with the way he catches your lips in a messy clash of a kiss. Hot tongue nudging apart your plump lips to spit a steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Some of it missing and splattering against the corner of your mouth, “N’ you know what m- ngh- buying you as a p-prize?”

Your knees are weakening pathetically now, sliding further and further apart on the silky sheets with each harsh slam of his cock - only to be pulled back up by an impatient Geto. 

“Do you?” he hisses, pistoning his hips so hard now that your knees were hovering midair - held up by a frenzied Geto. Who plows on deliriously, “Gonna buy ya- nghh fuck- the pill. So many- cuz you’re gonna fuckin’ need it-”

And need it you did. 

Because it only takes a few more seconds of this maddening song and dance before Geto’s cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t - wouldn’t want to - stop.

Pumping thick, hot rope after rope of his seed until your high was crashing into his. Until his cock was so raw and twitching sensitively. Until his balls were squeezing so painfully, tears stinging behind his eyelids with each ram into your fluttering pussy. 

“Best out of three?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Overheat

Oh this was a dream - or heaven. Maybe both. Because here was Choso sprawled out so prettily on his damp navy sheets, dark hair untied, half-lidded eyes gazing up at a sly angel - you - straddling his toned hips.  

Pussy lips swollen and drooling down where you were positioning his fat, leaky head right at where just a simple nudge of Choso’s squirming hips would have you split apart on his swollen cock - raw. 

“Cho~” your heady voice breaks through his stunned reverie, “You alright, baby?”

“Y-yes.” his words catch in his heaving chest. And Choso’s so embarrassed - still so stuck on the heavenly view below - that he’s barely even registering the hand of his that makes its way down to rest on your steady waist. “Just that-”

And then Choso’s giving an impatient tug on the fat of your hips, inching you so agonizingly close to his needy, red tip. So close he could practically feel you already - he could imagine how soft and warm you were bound to be.

You huff out a low chuckle, “Awww poor baby.” Grinning at the way your boyfriend takes one of tits into his mouth to muffle his embarrassed whine. He alternates between sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive nipples, “Is this what you- hah- want?”

And the way you sandwich his thick cock between your slit has Choso’s ministrations on your nipple stuttering. Whispering out a muffled little, “Y-yeah…”

“Louder.”

“...”

Tutting, “Or, I could just get a condom since you’re so shy-”

“No!” Choso rasps out wetly, and the sudden outburst seems to startle you both. But especially Choso who only blabbers, pussydrunk and slurring already, “No no no no no- need this-” He claws at your hips, edging you closer and closer to sit on his soaked, twitching cock. Bucking his hips up wildly, the slick coating your dripping cunt making him slide messily across your folds once. Twice. “Need you so bad- wan’ feel you wanna feel this pretty pussy- ngh- please. Fuck!”

Both of you let out a synchronous moan when he finally manages to sink his fat head inside your sloppy entrance. So thick, stretching you open so well despite not even being halfway in.

“F-fuck.” Choso’s hazy eyes widen, and he immediately flattens his feet on the bed before pulling back. Only for his poor, oversensitive balls to squeeze so painfully- before covering your dripping cunt in rope after rope of his seed. Your pussy too heavenly, his sanity too gone. “Sh-shit m’sorry m’sorry- ngh.”

Your eyes widen, “Ch-Cho did you-” 

But he doesn’t let you finish - was probably too embarrassed to before stuffing your gaping, needy hole with his thick cock again. And again. And again and again trying to relieve that first time. “Oh, is this okay? Is this r-really okay?”

You don’t even know what he’s asking about - not when Choso’s sliding you deeper and deeper down his cock. Sculpted body bowing into yours when he starts bouncing you up and down like his favorite sextoy - reveling in the lewd squelches below and those pretty moans leaving your lips. 

“S’your fault, y’know?” he pants, ragged. Hips fucking up uncontrollably, drunk off the feeling. “Y-your ohhh fuck- your pussy feels too good, baby. N’ she’s s-so soft. So warm with my cum.”

And it was so sloppy, your boyfriend was never one to shy away from making a mess out of you both but this. Oh, you were losing your fucking mind with his harsh pace, letting that lewd combination of his cum and your slick glisten all over his abs, your thighs, your filthy cunt. All the way down to where his heavy balls were sure to leave marks for tomorrow - right alongside his pelvis against your thighs, fingers on your hips. 

“Y-you’re so-” you lean over to dig your nails into Choso’s pecs, and he takes the opportunity to bite and tease your poor nipples once more. “-filthy, Cho.”

He swallows, and fuck you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier. Adam’s apple bobbing, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed and miles away. “It’s this hah- p-pretty pussy, baby. R-raw? Seriously? She’s driving me insane.”

At that last, broken word of his sentence, Choso throws his head back as if merely remembering that there was no little plastic separating his throbbing cock from your gummy cunt was enough to make him go crazy. 

Hips pistoning up faster, molding your cunt to his shape. Bruising your g-spot with each thrust - and your cervix, too, just as a little stray reminder that you’re his from the inside out. Gasping out, “Just look at her.”

When you snap your head down, he’s already spreading apart your puffy folds with two fingers, giving you the perfect view of that creamy sheen, Choso’s reckless, maddening hips, the way your cunt was bulging and soaking his painfully hard cock. 

Only getting sloppier. Harder. Drunk with each thrust. 

“She’s so pretty.” he grits out, “So heavenly. Might just b-be my new hah- obsession.” Just babbling nonsense in strained, jagged words that come out after each brush of his fat tip against your g-spot. So hard that you were stumbling precariously on top of his wild hips. “Yeah- new obsession. My heavenly obsession” he eyes down your quivering thighs, those breathy moans that told him you were close.“N’ I wonder how much more heavenly you’d be if I cum inside?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Take both, dammit.

“B-both?”

The only response you get are Sukuna’s fingers tightening around your throat, sharp nails dragging dangerously over your racing pulse. Pulling your dazed face closed to gift you with a low, cocky hum, “Both.”

And then you can’t breathe - not because of the large hand taking its place around your neck, no, but because Sukuna was suddenly nudging his weeping, fat tips against your sloppy entrance. Lips curling up into a devilish grin at how you were quivering in- fear? Anticipation? 

Either way it had you keening tearily, “Kuna it won’t- fit!”

“Hmm,” Sukuna purses his lips in mock-thought, free hand dipping down to roll his index against your clit. “Let’s ask her why don’t we?” Any and every noise of surprise you manage to yelp out are overshadowed by the most obscene squelches you’ve ever heard in your life. Like Sukuna was well and fully intent on proving his point by circling his thumb around your sloppy hole until you gave up. And he was. “She says she’s just dying to take it. What’s your excuse, brat?”

Truly, it was the first time you’ve tried taking both your boyfriend’s massive cocks - and just one of them required specially made condoms and such extensive teasing and toying to stretch you out enough. 

So one thing was sure - you weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re startled out of your reverie by a dark chuckle from above - shit, did you say that out loud? “Well, only one way to find out.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - both at once. Fat heads bumping into each other as Sukuna grinds against your snug pussy in shallow, short rolls of his hips. 

“Tch.” he clicks his tongue when your feeble ring of resistance struggles to take him. A warm hand of his comes down to soothe over your head slowly, gently - uncharacteristically so. Whispering, “Shhhh, shhh breathe. You got this. You can take it- hah- you always do, right?” Hips getting just a bit more forceful. A bit more calculated. “You can-” Before that sweet hand on your hair tightens to push you down, hard. “-take it.”

Oh, you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling that the king of curses always gets what he wants. Always. 

“Oh my god- oh my god, Kuna! S’so deep-”

A startled smile spreads over Sukuna’s face, eyes widening in surprise. “Ohh, shit. Shit, brat.” He angles his head just right to spy down - just to make sure. “If I knew you felt ngh- th-this good, I’d have done it sooner Much, much sooner.”

But fuck for how cocky he was acting right now, Sukuna was in fucking heaven. 

Dipping his head down to hide the blush dusting his cheeks, and that euphoric glint in his eyes, Sukuna starts moving in hurried, methodical little thrusts to squeeze even deeper inside. 

“Hngh- it’s- ah- can feel you rubbing up inside me, Kuna.” you whine into his ears, hips bucking up wildly. 

“Yeah?” he breathes, but it comes out more wobbly than he intended. Biting his lower lip to keep those loud fucking moans slipping out from the feeling of rubbing against himself and your raw gummy walls and himself. “Y-ya like this? What happened to ‘o-oh s’too big, Kuna’?”

You manage to get out a weak, “F-fuck you.” 

“No, brat. I’m fucking you.” Sukuna growls, ramming into you faster. Sloppier. Heavy sets of tight balls stinging your skin, “Both of me.”

God, the stretch was so much, like he was pushing into your lungs. And that thundering thump! thump! thump! of matching sets of veins against your dripping cunt was so sinful that you let his little comment slide. Driving you to insanity. 

Instead, your teeth grazes Sukuna’s earlobe to give a soft tug, making him turn his head and look right at your fucked-out face.

His hot breath fans your face, “What, brat? Can’t talk? Or is it that you want-” He catches your ravaged clit between two fingers again, rolling languidly. “-her to talk?”

And God, if it was double the stretch on your too-tight cunt, then Sukuna was determined to make sure it was double the pleasure for you. 

His fingers just so frenzied on your clit, rubbing tight, messy patterns - not even circles anymore because fuck Sukuna was too impatient, too depraved for that right now. Swollen cocks sliding in and out with reckless abandon, getting easier and easier with each glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices all over them. Massaging all those sensitive spots he’s mapped out so well to hit his end goal - your poor, ravaged g-spot. Hitting it over and over and over and-

“Kuna!” you scramble for the sheets, the headrest, his shoulders - just anything to keep whatever’s left of your sanity. Sobbing out, “I-I’m close- ngh ah! I’m so close.”

“Close, hah?” you hear from above you, the last thing before the smacking of skin-on-skin becomes almost deafening. Coupled with Sukuna’s strained groans, now unable to hold them back with each time he’s kissing your cervix - your g-spot. “Then cum. Cum all over my cocks, brat.”

Hips stuttering as they get harsher with purpose. Violent, even - having to rest a hand on top of your head to keep your body from being jolted too far up the bed.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. You’re screaming out Sukuna’s name, body bowing into his vice-like grip. Dripping cunt trying desperately to milk him so tight.

It was too much. 

Your poor pussy was overfilled to the brim with each and every spurt of Sukuna’s hot cum, thick, white globs that dribble down your thighs. Filling you up so much you think you could explode and- “Aww look at you.” Sukuna coos, thumbing apart your pussy lips to watch her soak in his never ending cum. “Wonder if she can take another load?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Experiment…

The great Gojo Satoru is many things - powerful, complex, a pain-in-the-ass to most - but being hesitant to experiment is decidedly not one of these things. 

Which is what found you splayed out underneath him, brows furrowed, legs trembling while he drags his weeping tip up and down your puffy folds. Just dipping between your lips, pooling your sweet sweet juices on his head - up and down up and down up and-

“Toru.” your deadpan voice cuts through his fun, hips arching off the bed impatiently. “S’not gonna work.”

Gojo sticks his tongue out with all the maturity he could muster up, “It will, sweetheart, just watch.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will-” you cut yourself off in frustration, “You’re just all talk-”

Whatever insult on the tip of your tongue - along with all the air in your lungs - is knocked out by Gojo finally pushing in. Finally stretching out your sloppy hole on his thick mushroom tip, all stuttering and clenching in an effort to accommodate him.

He groans, cheeks flushing because fuck maybe this’ll be harder than he thought. “S’gonna work- if I can concen- ohh fuck don’t squeeze me that way- if I can get limitless to- no more late-night convenience store runs.” 

But oh right now the only thing on Gojo’s mind was that maybe you two were better off with walking the two blocks down to buy condoms - because he could feel his limitless slowly thinning out with each inch he sinks into your snug cunt. Slowly waning - much like his fucking sanity. 

“Toru!” you squeal when it’s like something snaps. That little glow in your boyfriend’s eyes dims as his entire body stiffens, breath hitching in his throat, and his cock- oh his aching, rock-hard cock - so warm and just throbbing so rapidly against your walls in a beat that matches your own. You could feel him all the way in your stomach. “D-did it work?”

Something is whispered into the crook of your neck - and you’re craning your head closer to understand. “What?”

There it is again.

This time, however, you pull Gojo from his safe haven, tugging admonishingly on those soft, white locks. All the while murmuring, “Use your- oh.”

Oh.

Fuck. 

Gojo’s eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown. So utterly wrecked when his aching cock grows even larger inside you, stretching you to your limits. Such a delicate pink blush decorating his cheeks, dusting over those plump, parted lips, ones which wobble and gape open noiselessly a few times before he manages out, “D-didn’t work.”

And fuck then it was like a dam had broken. 

Because Gojo’s previously stalled hips were moving now - grinding forward slowly, deliciously. Only growing girthier - so unfairly so - with each movement. 

Two large hands coming up to paw and knead your ass to keep you still while he begins fucking you into the mattress. 

Letting out whiny, bewildered moans - as if Gojo himself couldn’t believe what was happening - “Didn’t work.” He repeats, like a mantra. “Didn’t work didn’t work didn’t- didn’t work- hah- n’ I don’t regret it one bit.”

“H-hah?” you whimper, “So you’re-”

“Yes.” Gojo interjects, and if you were in any better state of mind you’d have told him off for interrupting you. But oh how could you when he was reeling his hips back, back, back, just kissing your sloppy entrance with his leaky tip - before splitting you apart all over again. “Yes yes yes- oh yes. M’feeling you- all of you. Why the fuck didn’t you t-tell me you were so ngh-” Long fingers graze over your pulsing clit, making him all but scream in pleasure when you clamp down. Hard. “-heavenly!”

Fuck you weren’t making it out alive - and he wasn’t either.

And he sounded so genuinely upset - how were you this warm? This dripping wet all around him? Hell, Gojo thinks he’s soaked all the way down to his heavy balls already.

“Soaked?” your eyes widen when Gojo gives you a shocked laugh - fuck, has he finally lost whatever sanity he had left?

“Mhm.” he nods, a familiar glint of madness in those summer blue eyes. Breathy, pussydrunk little ministration matching his words, “Soaked. Absolutely fucking hah- soaked. Me. Me me me- s’me-” Gojo spits into his open palm, once. Twice. Before smearing the mess down his length, making it easier for him to slide in and out of your needy cunt,  “-not some stupid little piece of plastic. Oh, m’never buying those again-”

He was fucking you so needy. 

Just ramming his cock into you as he pleased, hitting all your most sensitive spots - your cervix, your g-spot, tugging at your clit. Having the bed frame and you making such loud noises every time his thick tip was gliding across your gummy walls, matching with the tempo of his fingers.

“It feel so- good, Toru.” you whine. Hips stuttering forwards, making the most lewd of squelches as you try to meet Gojo’s fast, utterly wild pace. “Fuck fuck fuck- oh.”

“Yeah? My baby likes ngh- taking me in r-raw.” you smile when you catch the way Gojo’s face flushes as his voice cracks on that last word - like he still couldn’t believe it himself. 

Though, he didn’t like that quite as much as you. 

“Huh? Laughing at me? M’gonna ngh- you lil’ minx. M’gonna give you something to laugh about.” Each word punctuated by a mean thrust, and if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have caught the way Gojo’s eyes glowed ever-so-slightly. Tiny pricks of purple lightning dancing across his bare skin, “Because practice makes perfect, right, sweetheart?”

A/N. I’m ngl Gojo’s one was just me wondering how far limitless really went sooo there ya go.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eph3merall]

quietgamer!matt x sleepy!reader perhaps.

matt sitting at his desk, sometime around two or three in the morning. he's trying not to disturb the lump in his bed which he recognizes as you when you let out a noise in your fit of slumber and the mess of hair peeking from the sheets. the light of his monitor is harsh however, illuminating the room and casting moving shadows everywhere.

his eyes dart back and forth, tuned into the fortnite match he was currently in. his eyes are a little bleary and there are dark bags under them, despite the brunette not being tired. he tended to stay up or wake up in the middle of the night, and as for you? you slept like a baby.

matt found it adorable if he's being honest, which is why when some kid kills him he's banging his desk before wincing and letting a curse fall under his breath. he doesn't notice the ball in his bed shift and move about, the sound of the sheets rustling failing to get to his ears covered by his headset.

the sound of your footsteps is soft as you pad against his floor, eyes squinting from the blinding light of his monitor. soon you're stood next to matt, standing there and yawning until his head is turning to look up at you with a crooked grin. "sorry baby, woke y'up? my bad." his voice is a little deeper than usual, and he just sounds so good.

matt lets one of his hands leave his controller, legs spreading in the pair of grey sweatpants he had on. a ringed hand pats his thigh gently, eyes already locked onto the new game about to start as he motioms for you to take a seat on his lap. "c'mon, theree y'go.." his voice sounds like honey to your ears, all smooth and rich once you're settled into the warmth of his body.

matt lets you shift around and get all comfortable, arms wrapping around your middle to hold you close and still play his game, thumbs swiftly pressing buttons on his controller as you settle your face into the crook of his neck. "'m sorry, didn't mean to wake y'up." because he really didn't—normally matt succeeds in not waking you, but he just got a little too pissed off this time.

"s'okay," your voice is raspy and heavy with sleep, muffle slightly against his skin as you hear matt let out a little chuckle. you briefly feel his head turning before a soft kiss is laid onto your head, followed by a curse as you feel matt sit up a little straighter in his chair.

and the two of you stay like that, until matt's had enough of his game and is a little pissed off. his hands are holding onto your hips and one is sneaking under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, groping at your ass as he hums lowly. his fingers find the edge of your panties, two of them rubbing over your cunt all slow and languidly.

"why're you so wet, huh? jus' been sittin' here with me n' you're already soaked?" his voice holds an air of amusement, and you can't do much except whine out of exhaustion and need. your hips shift back, trying to grind against matt's two fingers.

"c'mon baby, whaddya need? need my fingers, huh? need to get off like a needy bitch?" his words are somewhat mean, yet his actions are somewhat kind. matt lets his fingers rub over your clit before shifting your panties to the side and sinking his middle and ring finger into your cunt so easily.

you're humping back against him slowly, pants and little moans growing slightly louder in volume. "s'right.. there we go, good girl."

take rhis while i work on the second part to that other post thank you v much for 700+ notes on rhat as well like.

as always, not proofread. it's 3 am and im horribly tired goodnight

—

©eph3merall 2024

[butterfliesandwendigos]

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE PT.2 — Josh Washington

SUMMARY — after you discover josh mid-psycho prank, he prevents you from watching his wrongdoings. he takes you, passed out and unconscious, to a secluded cabin on the mountain, convinced he’s keeping you away from his plan. the wendigos strike, leaving you trapped until rescue arrives. you reunite, sparking intense feelings between you two.

W/C — 8.9k.

NOTES — lots of until dawn lore, slow-buildup, set in both present and post until dawn, themes of drugging, mania, filthy smut (i think this one might be more smutty than the first😏).

PART ONE | PART TWO

You stir in the warmth of Josh’s lodge bedroom, the lingering scent of cedar and woodsmoke wrapping around you like a blanket. The walls are adorned with framed photos, capturing memories of happier times before tragedy cast a long shadow over the Washington family’s lives. A fire crackles softly, one that you don’t remember lighting, it's flickering flames lulling you more profoundly into sleep, away from the tension that hung in the lodge since the fateful night the group reunited.

But all that changes with a piercing scream.

You bolt upright, heart racing as the echoes of panic fill the air. Your friends—you recognise their voices even through the disorienting haze of sleep. Swinging your legs off the bed, you feel the chill of the wooden floor against your bare feet. Anxiety coils in your stomach as you pull on your sweater and leggings, the familiar scent of Josh lingering in the fabric.

“Josh?” you call softly, but the room is silent, except for the shouts. With a sinking feeling, you reach the door, the foreboding weight pressing down on you.

The lodge is dark, with shadows looming as you navigate through the narrow hallway. Each scream grows louder as you descend the staircase, your breath quickening with each step. You can feel the oppressive atmosphere thickening around you, almost suffocating.

You reach the bottom of the stairs and hesitate, the basement door slightly ajar. The screams have ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that makes your skin crawl. Mustering your courage, you open the door and descend into the dimly lit basement.

The air is cold and heavy, suffocating in tension, wrapping around you like a vice and making your stomach churn. Flickering lights cast chaotic shadows against the stone walls, and as you step deeper into the space, you spot a figure standing in the centre—a silhouette you recognise all too well. It’s Josh and he’s wearing… dirty, old overalls?

“Josh!” you call out, your voice echoing off the walls. But something is dreadfully off. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge your presence. He stands motionless, his back to you, staring at something unseen, his posture rigid and unyielding.

“Y/N,” he finally speaks, his voice low and unsettlingly calm, as if the warmth of human connection has slipped away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What’s going on?” you ask, unease creeping into your voice. “Where are the others? I heard screaming.”

He turns slowly, and you recoil at the emptiness in his eyes as if he’s lost somewhere far beyond reach. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head. I’m not letting you be a part of this. You shouldn’t even be here; you should be upstairs sleeping! I even set a fire for you to help you sleep better.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to sleep when I hear people screaming bloody murder,” you shoot back, your pulse quickening, fear gnawing at your insides. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing is going on! Would you drop it already?” he snaps, his frustration boiling over, a wildness flickering in his eyes, sending chills racing down your spine.

“Why are you acting like this?!” you demand, stepping closer, your anger igniting the air between you. You catch sight of his hands trembling, fingers twitching as if desperately trying to suppress something dangerous.

“Because I’ve done something terrible and sadistic, and none of the others are ever going to have anything to do with me again! That’s why you cannot be a part of this!” he exclaims, his voice rising, an unsettling mania building in his frightening and heartbreaking tone.

“What did you do, Josh?” you ask, your heart pounding as fear and anger collide, a storm within you.

“Please, just go upstairs and stop asking questions,” he pleads, his voice strained, panic threading through his words, twisting your stomach in knots.

“Josh, this is insane! You can’t just—” you start, but he interrupts, urgency threading through his tone.

“No! You don’t understand! I can’t let you see this,” he insists, his eyes darting around the room as if haunted by unseen phantoms. “It won’t be pretty, and I don’t want you to get caught up in it. I can’t lose you too. Please, you have to go back upstairs.”

Your heart drops as you approach him cautiously, studying how his shoulders are tense, poised on the brink of collapse. “Josh, please, talk to me,” you plead, stepping closer. “We can figure this out together.”

In a sudden, frantic motion, Josh steps back, shaking his head vehemently, a manic energy radiating from him that makes you instinctively recoil. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone!”

You grab his arm, your grip firm as you prevent him from retreating. “Are you serious? Was this trip your way of getting into my pants? Because you sure find it easy to drop me straight after sleeping with me!”

His eyes widen in shock, the hurt flashing across his face, but you’re too consumed by anger to back down. “You think this is easy for me?” he retorts, his voice trembling. “I’m trying to protect you from this mess!”

“By shutting me out?” you fire back, your heart racing with fear and fury. “By walking away? That’s not protection; it’s selfishness.”

He stares at you, his expression shifting from defiance to despair. “Y/N, please…” His voice cracks, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimpse of the boy you fell for—the one who would never turn away from you, no matter the circumstances.

“You don’t know what they did,” he murmurs, a haunting smile ghosting across his lips. “You weren’t there. They took everything from me.”

Conflict swirls in his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the fight within him begins to waver. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” he finally admits, his voice breaking under the weight of his anguish.

He hesitates, and you see the pain etched deep in his expression. “I’m giving them what they deserve,” he replies, the weight of his words heavy and dark. “They took everything from me, and I won’t let them take you away too. Please, go back upstairs.”

The moment's intensity hangs between you like a taut wire, the darkness closing in. You stare at Josh, grappling with the dichotomy of the man you love and the stranger he’s become. “What do you mean, ‘giving them what they deserve’? Who are you talking about?”

He clenches his jaw, refusing to answer, the inner turmoil evident in his strained features. You step closer, desperate to bridge the chasm between you. “Josh, you can’t just shut me out like this. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of losing you.”

The flickering light casts eerie shadows across his face, and in that moment, you see the pain that’s etched into his features. “You don’t understand,” he whispers, voices low and raw. “You can’t understand what they did. It’s not just about me anymore. I have to finish this.”

“Finish what?” you press, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “What’s going on down here? If you’re in danger, I want to help you. We can face it together.”

He shakes his head violently, tears brimming in his eyes, an unsettling fear radiating from him. “You think it’s that simple? They’re not just people; they’re monsters. They took everything from me, and now it’s my turn to make them pay. I won’t let you be a part of this. You deserve better.”

“I don’t care about what I deserve! I care about you, Josh!” Your voice rises, echoing off the cold stone walls, desperation lacing your words. “Don’t push me away. If you think isolating yourself will keep me safe, you’re mistaken. It’ll only push me further away.”

The tension in his shoulders eases for a moment, and you see a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Y/N…” he starts, but then he falters, the wall around him hardening again. “I can’t let you get involved in this. You don’t know what I’m capable of. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

You take a deep breath, grounding yourself in the gravity of the situation. “Then let me help you figure it out. You can’t do this alone, Josh. You’re not alone anymore.”

He turns his back to you again, and your heart sinks, a wave of despair crashing over you. You want to scream, shake, and make him see reason, but instead, you take a step back, trying to breathe through the rising panic. “Josh, please, I’m begging you. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. If this is about revenge, then it’s going to consume you. It’s not worth it.”

His silence is deafening, the shadows creeping closer, wrapping around him like a noose. You inch forward again, unwilling to let the distance grow. “What did they take from you?” you ask gently, your voice barely above a whisper, hoping to pierce the dark veil enveloping him.

He hesitates, and you see the battle raging in his mind. “They took… they took my sisters,” he finally admits, his voice cracking under the strain. “They took my family, and I wasn’t there to protect them.”

Your heart aches for him, the depth of his pain crashing over you like a tidal wave. “I’m so sorry, Josh,” you murmur, tears stinging your eyes. “But this isn’t the way to make it right. This won’t bring them back.”

“I don’t want them back,” he snaps, but the anger is undercut with sorrow, the edges fraying. “I just want them to pay for what they did. I want to feel something—anything but this empty rage inside me.”

You take another step closer, heart racing as you reach out, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then let me help you. Don’t let this rage destroy you. You’re stronger than this. We can find another way to honour their memory.”

He turns to face you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, the turmoil within him still raging but beginning to soften. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, vulnerability etching across his features, deepening the ache in your heart.

“You won’t,” you promise, stepping closer, your voice resolute. “We’ll find a way through this. Together.”

For a heartbeat, it feels like the walls around him might crumble, but then he pulls away, shaking his head. “No, I can’t risk it. I won’t let you be part of this darkness.”

You take a deep breath, the cold air filling your lungs as you try to steady yourself against the gravity of it all. “Then what? You’ll just shut me out? You’ll go through this alone?”

For a heartbeat, it feels like the walls around him might crumble, but then he jerks away, shaking his head with wild desperation. “No, I can’t risk it. I won’t let you be part of this darkness.”

You take a deep breath, the cold air filling your lungs as dread settles in your chest. “Then what? You’ll just shut me out? You’ll go through this alone?”

His eyes are wild, flickering with an inner conflict that twists your gut. “I don’t know how to just… let it go.”

“Then don’t let it go alone,” you plead, reaching out to cup his face in your trembling hands, your heart racing in the thick, oppressive air. “You can’t do this alone, Josh. We can face it together. You don’t have to carry this weight by yourself. Let me be with you.”

The tension in his frame wavers for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of hope igniting in his gaze. “I wish I could just go back to being normal… to being happy,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with regret and a hint of mania.

“Then let’s work on that together,” you urge, your hand still on his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble of his jaw. “You don’t have to lose yourself in this darkness. Let me help you find your way back.”

The silence stretches between you like a taut wire, the world's weight pressing down. As you stand there, staring into his eyes, you see the flicker of a fragile spark amidst the storm of his despair.

“Okay,” he finally says, his voice breaking slightly, urgency threading through his words. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you reply, heart pounding.

“Promise me you won’t give up on me, no matter how far I fall,” he whispers, the vulnerability in his eyes cutting straight through to your heart, the weight of his desperation almost palpable.

“I promise,” you say, tears welling up. “We’ll get through this together, Josh. I won’t let you go.”

He nods, a single tear escaping down his cheek, but the spark of hope quickly dims. “I’m scared,” he admits, his voice trembling, the manic edge returning, his eyes darting around as if haunted by unseen horrors.

“I know,” you reply softly, wiping the tear away with your thumb. “But we’ll face that fear together. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

The tension crackles in the air, thick and charged, as Josh’s vulnerability battles with something darker within him—your heart races as you stare into his conflicted eyes, desperate to bridge the chasm between you. Without thinking, you close the gap, your breath mingling with his.

At that moment, something shifts within Josh. He hesitates, then, without warning, he pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in warmth and safety. The weight of the world slips away as you lean into him, seeking solace in the embrace.

But then you sense the urgency in his movements, the frantic energy surging beneath the surface. The outside world fades, and all you can feel is the moment's intensity. Without even realising it, your lips find his. The kiss is tentative at first, exploring the vulnerability you both share. But as the heat between you builds, it transforms into something urgent and desperate—a frantic plea for connection that speaks to the chaos swirling around you.

You melt against him, feeling him respond as he deepens the kiss, pouring everything he thinks into that moment. His lips are warm and inviting, igniting a fire inside you, and you lose yourself in him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as if trying to erase the distance between you.

But just as abruptly, he pulls away, breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his eyes filled with a manic intensity that makes your heart race. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in now. Not with this. After is a different story; I’ll tell you everything.”

The chill of his words slices through you, and reality crashes back in. “Josh—”

Before you can finish, he reaches into his pocket, confusion turning to dread as you see him pull out a small cloth. Your stomach drops, panic surging through you like icy water.

“Josh, what are you doing?” you ask, your voice shaking, a sense of dread coiling tightly around your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, anguish etched across his face, his eyes wide and frantic. “I have to protect you.”

Without warning, he lunges forward, pressing the cloth against your mouth and nose. Instinctively, you struggle, fear coursing through your veins as the suffocating scent of chloroform envelops you. You claw at his hands, desperation surging, but your body betrays you as darkness seeps into your vision.

“Josh, no!” you gasp, but your words dissolve into silence, swallowed by the overwhelming haze. The frantic look in his eyes pierces through the fog, revealing the chaos of his spiralling mind.

“Just for a moment,” he murmurs, his voice distant and strained, tinged with a frantic urgency that sets your heart racing. “Don’t be scared; I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it right, I promise. I need time—just a little time to fix this.”

And then, with a final, shuddering breath, everything fades to black.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The soft crackle of firewood breaks through the heavy silence, pulling you from unconsciousness. Your eyelids flutter open, and it takes a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The flickering flames dimly lit the small cabin, casting dancing shadows on the wooden walls. You sit up, disoriented, your muscles stiff and aching as you take in the cozy but foreign space.

You glance down to find yourself wrapped in a thick blanket, and underneath it, you’re dressed in an oversized jacket that smells faintly of Josh—woodsy and warm. It swallows you whole, the weight of it grounding you as you scan the room.

An array of snacks is laid out on a small table nearby: bags of chips, a few granola bars, and a thermos of hot cocoa, steam rising in lazy curls. The sight is strangely comforting but does little to quell the unease gnawing at your insides. Where are you? What happened?

As your mind clears, you push the blanket aside and swing your legs over the bed's edge, feeling the cabin floor's coolness against your feet. You spot a piece of paper propped against a half-burned log in the fireplace. The neatly typed letters starkly contrast the rustic chaos around you, and you rise to retrieve it, your heart pounding in your chest.

You unfold the letter, your eyes scanning the words with growing anxiety:

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, you’re awake. I know you’re confused and maybe even scared. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I couldn’t think of any other way to protect you. I had to get you away from everything.

I’ve spent so long planning this, and I know it sounds wild—because it is. I wanted to pull a prank on my friends. I wanted them to be scared, to experience that heart-pounding rush of fear that comes when you think your life is in danger, but I never wanted them to be hurt. I didn’t want them to suffer like my family did. I wanted to make a point, to show them how fragile life can be, but they didn’t see it that way.

So, I dressed up as a killer—in those overalls you saw me in. I spent weeks piecing together the costumes, researching horror movies for inspiration, and trying to channel the terror that would haunt their dreams. I used fake blood, a mask, and everything to make it feel authentic without crossing the line.

When I saw the genuine fear in their eyes, it twisted something inside me. It was as if I had become the monster I was pretending to be. I realised then that I had pushed things too far. I lost sight of the line between fun and horror, and once you cross that line, there’s no going back.

When I saw what they did to my sisters, how could I resist this? How could I let them go on living their lives while mine was shattered? So, I created a nightmare for them, a taste of the horror that took everything from me. But now I realise it’s too late for regrets.

I know I’ve gone too far and can’t undo what I’ve done. I didn’t want you to be part of this madness, Y/N. You deserve better than this chaos.

You are my light in the darkness, and I can’t bear to lose you too. I just needed time to figure things out, to find a way to make things right.

Please forgive me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Love,

Josh.

You read the letter twice, each word slicing through you like ice. Shock gives way to anger, fear, and overwhelming sadness. Josh’s intentions may have stemmed from a place of love, but his actions were reckless and dangerous. He had crossed a line, dragging you into the depths of his madness.

Setting the letter aside, you wrap the jacket tighter around yourself, feeling its weight as if it holds pieces of him—his warmth, scent, and shared memories. But now, those memories feel tainted, overshadowed by what he’s done.

You pace the small cabin, anxiety bubbling up as the reality of your situation sinks in. You’re alone on Blackwood Mountain, isolated from the world, and he’s somewhere out there—lost in his turmoil.

Your heart races as you wonder: How far has he gone? You approach the window, peering into the darkened woods surrounding the cabin. The trees loom like sentinels, shadows creeping ominously in the dying light.

You can’t just wait here. You have to find him. You have to make him see reason, to pull him back from the brink before he loses himself entirely to the darkness. Gathering your resolve, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your shaking hands.

With newfound determination, you head toward the door, knowing you must find Josh and confront him about his choices—before it’s too late.

You take a deep breath, heart pounding as you inch toward the cabin door. The stillness of the night is oppressive, a suffocating blanket that wraps around you, making every instinct scream for you to turn back. But you push through, determined to find Josh, to confront him about the madness he has unleashed.

As you swing the door open, the icy air hits you, and the moonlight spills into the cabin, illuminating the expanse of snow-covered ground outside. You step out, every nerve in your body on high alert. The forest looms around you, shadows twisting in the pale light.

Suddenly, a chilling howl echoes through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. You freeze, straining to see through the darkness. That’s when you glimpse it—a creature, grotesque and otherworldly, its long limbs twisted and elongated, eyes glowing like embers in the night.

Panic surges through you, an instinctual fight-or-flight response kicking in as the creature turns its head, locking its eyes on you. In that moment, all rational thought vanishes. You stumble backward, heart racing, and slam the door shut behind you. Adrenaline propels you into the small cabin as you dart toward the nearest hiding place—the bed.

You drop to the floor and scramble beneath it, your breath quick and shallow. The world around you blurs into a haze of terror, and you press your back against the wooden frame, curling into a ball as the sound of the monster’s snarling fills your ears. You feel utterly powerless, trapped in the darkness of your hiding place, time stretching endlessly as the creature stalks outside.

Hours pass, each minute feeling like an eternity. The monster’s guttural growls echo through the night, haunting you with the promise of violence. You clutch the blanket around you, trying to drown out the sound, waiting for dawn with a desperation that gnaws at your insides.

Finally, a faint light seeps through the cracks in the cabin walls, signalling the arrival of dawn. You let out a shaky breath, still too terrified to move. But just as the first rays of sunlight touch the ground, a loud explosion rips through the silence. The ground shakes, and the monster’s screams suddenly fall silent.

You stay hidden, frozen in place, unable to comprehend what happened. The panic tightens around you, and even though the creature is gone, you can’t bring yourself to leave the safety of your hiding spot. What if it comes back? What if there are more?

The hours go on, and the sun climbs higher in the sky. You hear distant voices, the sound of people calling out, but fear keeps you rooted beneath the bed. You don’t want to face the outside world after what you’ve just seen.

Finally, the door creaks open, and you hold your breath, heart racing as footsteps approach. “Y/N?” a voice calls out, but it feels distant, like a dream. “Are you in here?”

Others join the voice, and the panic swirling inside you melts into a fragile hope. You wait, listening as they search the cabin, calling your name, until one of them finally crouches down beside the bed.

“There you are,” It’s a search team member, their face a mix of relief and concern. “You’re safe now. Come on out.”

With trembling limbs, you crawl out from your hiding spot, feeling the sun on your face for the first time since the nightmare began. You’re enveloped in the warmth of a rescue team member, the world flooding back into focus, but your mind is still reeling.

“Where’s Josh?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“We’ll take you to him,” the rescuer replies, helping you to your feet. “He was found in the mines. He’s hurt, but he’s alive.”

“The mines? What mines?” You ask the rescuer, beyond confused.

“Your friend ended up down the mines. All of your other friends are saying some monster attacked them,” the rescuer replies.

“I saw it, too,” You whisper.

The relief floods through you, but it’s tinged with a deep sense of foreboding. It was real; the monster was real. You weren’t going crazy.

As you’re escorted back through the snow, the reality of the night’s horrors sinks in. You catch glimpses of the chaos left behind—the aftermath of the explosion, the remnants of the monsters. When you finally reach the makeshift medical station set up for the search team, you scan the area, your heart racing as you spot Josh sitting on a cot, looking dishevelled and lost. He’s staring blankly ahead, his eyes hollow, as if he’s not truly present.

“Josh!” you call, your heart in your throat as you rush forward.

He snaps his gaze to you, confusion clouding his expression, and for a moment, you fear he won’t recognise you. “Y/N?” he whispers, his voice trembling. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me! I’m okay!” you reply, urgency threading through your words as you reach him.

He stands abruptly, eyes wide as he takes a few hesitant steps toward you, as if afraid you might vanish again. “I thought… I thought I lost you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace that feels both desperate and protective.

“I was so scared, Josh,” you admit, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I saw this thing, and it was right outside the cabin. I thought I’d never get out.”

His grip tightens around you, his breath hitching as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “I was worried about you. I thought they’d get you. I’m so sorry for leaving you there.”

“You saved my life by leaving me there. I had a place to hide,” You tell him, giving him a scared smile.

His eyes search yours, wild and frantic. “Are you here, or is it all in my head? I’ve been in this hell for so long, I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real, Josh,” you assure him, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

As the weight of your words settles between you, you see a flicker of clarity return to his gaze. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” he breathes, and without warning, he scoops you up into his arms, spinning you around as relief washes over him.

“Josh!” you exclaim, laughing and crying at once, overwhelmed by the mixed emotions. “Put me down!”

But he holds you tightly, his expression fierce with affection. “No, I won’t let you go. Not again. I was so worried about you and those things out there. I can’t— I can’t lose you like I lost them.”

You pull back from the embrace, searching Josh's eyes for anything that reflects the boy you knew before this nightmare began. “What about everyone else?” you ask, your voice steady despite the uncertainty. “What happened with the others?”

His expression darkens, the shadows of grief and guilt flickering across his features. “They tied me up after I confronted them,” he admits, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I was… This thing took me, and my sisters were there and—“

You nod slowly, recalling Josh’s note, where he dressed up as a killer to scare his friends during a camping trip. “Josh, they’re gone. They couldn’t have been there,” you remind him gently.

“No, Hannah was there. She was one of those things,” he replies, his voice thick with remorse. “It’s my fault that everyone is here… I could’ve gotten everyone killed.”

“Josh, you didn’t know,” you reassure him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “What happened with those monsters wasn’t your fault. How were you supposed to know what would happen?”

He looks away, his gaze distant, haunted by the memories. “It’s still my fault. I led everyone here. When I saw those things… I was terrified and left you all alone to face them.”

“You didn’t leave me behind on purpose. You thought you were protecting me,” you say softly, trying to keep his gaze locked onto yours. “But you need to understand that you need help, Josh. I know what you did was because you’re grieving, but seriously… drugging me? You could have just told me what you were doing. I understand why you did it.”

He nods, tears pooling in his eyes. “I know. I’m so lost right now. I can’t even tell what’s real anymore. I’m scared that if I close my eyes, I’ll see them again—my sisters, the monsters. It’s all jumbled in my head.”

“Then we’ll get through this together,” you assure him, your voice strong. “But you have to let people in. You need to talk to someone who can help.”

Just then, a medical team approaches, their expressions severe but sympathetic. “Josh, Y/N,” one of the paramedics says, his voice steady. “We need to take you both for a check-up. It’s protocol after what you’ve been through.”

You nod, your heart racing as you follow Josh’s lead toward the makeshift medical station. “Do you think the others will be okay?” you ask him, glancing back at the chaos surrounding you—the remnants of the explosion, the hushed voices of searchers, and the growing concern etched into their faces.

“I hope so,” he replies, his voice wavering. “But I don’t know. I was down in the mines for so long. I don’t even know if they knew I was gone.”

As the medical team checks you both over, the atmosphere shifts slightly, tinged with relief and anxiety. They examine your injuries and ensure you’re both stable, then refer you to a hospital for a more thorough check-up. After an eternity of tests and questions, you finally get the green light to leave.

“Hey,” Josh says as you both stand outside the hospital, the sunlight peeking through the trees. “You okay?”

“I think so,” you reply, giving him a tentative smile. “Just… still processing everything.”

He nods, his expression solemn but determined. “I just called a taxi… do you wanna return to mine?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you agree, feeling a slight weight lift as you follow him. The drive is quiet, each of you lost in thought, but the familiar contours of his neighbourhood provide a strange sense of comfort.

When you finally reach Josh’s home, he hesitates at the door, his hand resting on the knob. “Are you sure you want to come in? I understand if you changed your mind.”

“I want to be here,” you say, your heart pounding as you step closer.

He nods, opening the door and stepping inside, the familiar scent of home washing over you. As he closes the door behind you, the world's weight outside feels slightly lighter, if only for a moment.

“I’ve been thinking about many things,” he says quietly as you sit on the couch. “About the prank and my sisters and how I could have responded to everything better.”

He sits beside you, leaning against the couch as he stares at the floor. “But I just don’t know how to move forward. Everything feels so twisted and wrong.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you promise, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers. “One step at a time.”

Josh looks up, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. For being here. I don’t deserve it, but it means everything to me.”

“You deserve it,” you insist, squeezing his hand. “We all deserve a second chance.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, and while the shadows of the past still loom over you, the warmth of each other’s presence offers a flicker of light in the darkness.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across Josh’s living room. The chaos of the past few days still lingered in the air, but it felt different here—more intimate and safe. As you sat on the couch, your fingers intertwined with Josh’s, you couldn’t help but glance around at the familiar yet altered space.

“I can’t believe you wore those ugly overalls last night,” you teased, breaking the silence. “They made you look like a redneck farmer.”

Josh chuckled, his mood lifting slightly as he recalled the memory. “Hey, they were fashionable! At least for a psycho prank gone wrong,” he replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Fashionable? Really?” You grinned at him, teasingly nudging his shoulder.

“Okay, fair enough. But I thought the whole ‘creepy psycho in overalls’ thing was semi-accurate for a crazed killer,” he defended, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress a smile.

“It was not giving psycho killer,” You laugh, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. As you both shared a moment of laughter, Josh’s playful demeanour took on a different edge. He leaned in closer, mischief sparking in his eyes. “You know, you might think you know what a psycho looks like,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “but I could show you what it looks like.”

Before you could fully process his words, he playfully reached for your neck, his fingers wrapping gently around it, creating a tension that sent shivers down your spine. “Just a little squeeze,” he whispered, a smirk on his lips.

Your heart raced, caught between the thrill of his teasing and the underlying intensity in his gaze. “Josh…,” you breathed, half-laughing, half-breathless, the playful edge of his words tinged with something more profound.

As you gazed into his eyes, a strange heat surged through you, an undeniable thrill that coursed through your veins. You found yourself leaning slightly into his grip, an instinctual reaction that did not go unnoticed. A flicker of realisation crossed Josh's face—a mix of surprise and intrigue.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, the teasing lilt now laced with something more intense. The corner of his mouth curled into a knowing smirk as he subtly tightened his grip just enough to draw a soft gasp from you.

Your heart raced, and the realisation hit you hard. The thrill of danger mingled with an unexpected desire, and you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. “Maybe I do,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, challenging him even as your breath hitched.

Josh’s eyes darkened, a spark of excitement igniting between you. “You’re going to have to be careful with that,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You never know how far I’ll take it.”

Josh leaned in and kissed your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your jaw and sending shivers down your spine. His hands found their way to your body, touching you in all the right places and sending more shivers through you. He sucked on your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your skin and making you moan softly.

His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, as he slowly lowered himself to his knees before you. The atmosphere around you seemed to fade away; the only sounds now were the rustle of leaves and the distant call of wind, all background noise to the thrumming tension between you two.

"Lie back," he commanded softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice. You obeyed without hesitation, your heart pounding as you stretched out on the soft, mossy ground. The coolness of the earth seeped into your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building inside you.

Josh positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. He ran his hands up your thighs, his touch firm yet deliberate, sending electric jolts through your body. A predatory smile spread across his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your inner thighs.

He began with gentle kisses, trailing them up your thighs, each one sending delicious tingles through your core. His fingers moved expertly, tracing patterns on your sensitive skin, teasing you with their nearness but not entirely granting you the relief you craved. He knew exactly how to build the anticipation and keep you on the edge.

Josh's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he pulled your leggings off, revealing you clad in your panties. He pulls them to the side, gently running his fingertips above your hole, admiring the shine his actions elicit.

He lowers his face slowly, wrapping his lips around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive nub with expert precision. You quietly cried out, the sensation overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. He worked you with relentless intensity, his mouth and tongue creating a symphony of sensations that left you breathless.

"Fuck, Josh," you moaned, your fingers digging into the moss beneath you. "That feels so good."

He didn't respond verbally, but his actions spoke volumes. His fingers joined the assault, slipping inside you with ease, filling you just as thoroughly as his mouth was devouring you. The dual stimulation was almost too much to bear, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, the orgasm building like a tidal wave within you.

But just as you were about to crest, he pulled back, his fingers retreating from your aching pussy. You whimpered in protest, your body trembling with need. "No, please," you begged, your voice raw with desperation.

"Not yet," he said, his voice a deep growl. He kissed his way up your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached your neck, he bit down gently, a sharp bite that made you gasp. "I'm going to make you wait, make you ache for it," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

His hand returned to your centre, his fingers sliding back inside you with a needy groan. He played you like an instrument, his touch both rough and tender, pushing you right to the brink but never allowing you to fall over. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. "So desperate, so needy. I love it."

The humiliation, mixed with the arousal fueling your desire even further. "Josh, please," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"Not yet," he growled, pulling his fingers free again. "We're not done here."

He shifted position, his mouth descending on your clit again, but this time with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. His tongue worked relentlessly, driving you mad with need, while his fingers teased your entrance. The combination was maddening, a whirlwind of sensations that had you repeatedly crying out his name.

"Please, Josh, let me come," you begged, your body tensing as the orgasm loomed large.

"Go ahead," he challenged, his tongue flicking over your clit in rapid, staccato bursts.

You couldn't hold back any longer. With a cry of release, you came hard, your body convulsing beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in unison to draw out every last drop of your climax until you were left quivering and spent, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The first orgasm started to wash over you like a wave in the ocean, and you let out a soft moan. But Josh didn't stop. He didn't stop sucking your clit.

Josh’s lips lingered on your clit, his tongue flicking rhythmically as he drove you deeper into a haze of pleasure and pain. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing against your senses, leaving you breathless and desperate for release. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he devoured you with relentless intensity.

“Josh, please… I can’t…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with a mixture of pleading and ecstasy. Your hands moved instinctively to push him away, but his grip only tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with an unyielding ferocity that sent shivers down your spine.

His tongue pressed harder, circling your clit with expert precision, drawing out every gasp and moan from deep within you. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on torture, each stroke of his tongue sending electric shocks through your body.

With one final flick of his tongue, he drew out a strangled cry from your throat, the orgasm hovering just out of reach. Your body trembled with the effort of holding back, every muscle straining against the overwhelming pleasure.

You watched as his eyes darkened with lust, the predator in him coming to the surface as he took what he wanted from you.

His mouth never leaves your clit, sucking harder, his teeth grazing lightly against your sensitive nub, the sharp sting mixing with the pleasure to create a heady cocktail of sensations.

You cried out as the orgasm tore through you, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you gasping for breath. Your legs shook uncontrollably, your muscles spasming as the aftershocks rippled.

Josh didn’t stop. He kept his mouth locked onto your clit, milking every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form. You could feel your juices flowing, coating his chin and dripping onto your thighs, a sticky testament to your surrender.

Your mind reeled, the sheer intensity of the experience pushing you to the edge of sanity. But there was no escaping him, no way to deny the primal pull of his dominance. You found yourself arching against him, desperate for more, even as your body screamed for rest.

“Josh… please… too much…” you moaned, your voice barely coherent. The overstimulation was becoming too much, the constant barrage of pleasure threatening to overwhelm you completely.

And then he was there again, his tongue finding your clit once more, the pressure perfect as he guided you toward another peak. Each flick of his tongue, each suck of his lips, brought you closer to the edge until you were teetering on the brink again, helpless to resist.

With a strangled cry, you came again, your body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through you like wildfire. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, pulsing with the force of your release.

But Josh wasn’t satisfied with just three. He kept going, his mouth relentless as he pushed you toward yet another orgasm. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth, the taste of your arousal, and the sound of your cries filling the air.

Your mind blanked, lost in the sea of pleasure he had created. All thought fled as you obeyed, riding the wave of sensation until you were thrown into another explosive orgasm. Your body jerked and twitched, your cries echoing through the room as you shattered yet again.

Your vision blurred, your body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. You could feel the sticky mess of your juices coating his face, dripping down onto your thighs.

“Josh… please… no more…” you begged, your voice weak and strained. The constant onslaught of pleasure had left you drained, every muscle quivering with the aftermath of your multiple climaxes.

Before you could protest, his mouth was back on your clit, his tongue flicking mercilessly as he drove you toward yet another orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, the sheer intensity of it pushing you to the edge of comprehension.

“Josh… please… stop…” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you reached the limit of your endurance. The overstimulation was too much, the constant barrage of pleasure threatening to break you apart completely.

But Josh was relentless. He held your gaze as he drove you to the edge, his eyes burning with a dark fire that refused to be quenched.

“Okay,” Josh says, pulling his mouth away from you. He gets off his knees, stands up and walks to the other side of the room, sitting on a single-person couch.

“Why are you sitting there?” You ask him, your voice weak and quiet.

“You told me to stop, so I did. If you can’t handle me, I’m happy to let you rest,” He teases, defiantly sitting with his arms crossed. You could tell he was playing games with you, wanting to bring you to the edge and beyond over and over again.

He’s still sitting there, and you’re still lying on the couch. You haven’t moved, not even a little bit. Your whole body is quivering from the overstimulation and pleasure he put you through. And now he’s sitting on the other side of the room, teasing you and playing games with your body.

“I didn’t want you to stop,” You say, finally finding the energy to speak.

“Then why did you tell me to stop?” He asks, looking at you with a raised brow.

“I… I… I don’t know,” You whimper.

“Are you sure you’re ready for more?” He asks, standing up now and walking back to the couch.

“I’m sure,” You say. You’re begging to have him inside of you. You’re begging for more. You’re begging for anything and everything he’ll give you.

He reaches out and grabs your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed and standing in front of you. Your legs fall to the sides as he bends down to kiss you, his hand trailing down your thigh to your pussy.

He pushes two fingers in you, curling them upwards and rubbing against your g-spot. You feel yourself building up to another climax that’s different from the others.

“Josh,” You moan.

“Yes, baby,” He replies.

“You’re going to make me cum again,” You say to him.

“That’s the plan,” He says, his voice soft as he speaks.

You feel the wave wash over you, building up and then letting go. You feel a flood of fluid flowing from your pussy as the climax washes over you, making Josh’s fingers slide out of you with extreme ease.

“Fuck, Y/N,” He whispers. He pulls his fingers out and smears the juices around his mouth and lips, tasting you and swallowing the liquid gold down his throat.

He pulls your legs towards him, spreading you apart so he can fit his body between them. He leans down and kisses you again, your juices still on his lips and tongue. Josh removes his clothing, displaying his toned body and thick cock.

“Come here, Y/N,” He says, sitting down and patting his thighs. He lifts you slightly, sitting you in his lap, making you straddle his cock with your legs. He slides his cock into your pussy and starts to bounce you up and down on his lap.

You lean forward and kiss him, feeling another orgasm building in your lower belly, but it’s different from the other ones, your tolerance to orgasms building up higher than you thought possible.

“Oh god,” You say. “Oh my god.”

“Just a little longer,” He says. Your eyes widen, and your mouth opens in a silent scream as you come again.

“Good girl,” He says. He smiles at you and starts to rub your back. “I want to see you cum more.”

You’re so weak you can barely hold yourself up, but that doesn’t stop him. He holds you up for you, fucking you hard and deep. You feel another climax coming on and let out a loud moan as it hits you. Josh grunts in your ear.

“Cum for me,” He says. “Cum all over my cock.”

You feel the heat wash over you, and you clench around him. He picks up the pace, fucking you so hard your juices are flowing down his cock and onto his lap. You feel like you’ve cummed too much that you can’t take anymore.

But he doesn’t care. He just keeps going, fucking you harder and more profound than you thought possible. He’s still holding you up, not letting you rest.

“Cum again,” He grunts. “Cum for me.”

You do as he says, cumming again and clenching around his cock. His breathing gets faster and heavier.

Josh’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust more profoundly and more complexly. The rough, dominant manner in which he was taking you sent a thrill through your body, making your skin tingle with anticipation. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice low and commanding. “You’re mine,” he growled, each word punctuated by another powerful thrust. “And I’m going to fill you up so good, you’ll feel me for days.”

Your body responded involuntarily, clenching around him as he continued to pump into you. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing over you with each of his movements. You could feel the strain in your muscles, the way your legs trembled slightly from the intensity of it all. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and you could hear the slick sounds of your bodies sliding together, mingling with the occasional grunt or moan that escaped Josh’s lips.

He captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as forcefully as he invaded your body. His taste, mixed with the salty sweat of exertion, was intoxicating. You could feel his hardness pressing against the walls of your pussy, every part of his cock rubbing against you in just the right way to drive you wild.

The smell of sex filled the air, a heady mix of sweat, arousal, and the earthy scent of the forest. It was intoxicating, making your head swim with desire. The sound of your moans and his grunts echoed around you, the noises blending into a symphony of pleasure.

Josh’s pace began to change, becoming more erratic as his control started slipping. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles bunched and flexed with each movement. His thrusts became less controlled, more primal, as he drove himself into you with abandon.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained. “So tight, so wet… I can’t hold back much longer.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the knowledge that he was so close to releasing sending a fresh wave of excitement through you.

“Do it, Josh,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Fill me up… please.”

“I’m cumming,” He grunts out. He leans back on the couch and pulls you down onto his cock, fucking you from beneath. He feels so good. Your muscles are too weak to hold yourself up, so he does it for you, pulling you up and down on him.

He let out a guttural groan, his body tensing as he began to come undone. With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his hips slamming against yours as he came hard. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you, his cum flooding your insides as he held you tightly, his grip almost painfully strong on your hips.

The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of being full, of having him inside you in such a possessive, consuming way. You could feel every pulse of his orgasm, the way his cock twitched and throbbed within you. The heat of his seed spread through you, making you gasp at the intensity of it all.

Josh’s breathing was heavy, his chest heaving as he continued to hold you down, his body pressed tightly against yours. You could feel the sweat dripping from his brow and his heart pounding against your back. The aftermath of their intense coupling left you both breathless, the world seeming to spin around you.

“God, that was… incredible,” Josh murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He loosened his grip on your hips slightly but still kept you pinned beneath him, unwilling to let you go just yet. “You took that so well… so perfectly.”

You could feel the remnants of his orgasm still pulsing inside you, the warm, sticky sensation making you squirm slightly. The feeling of being filled, of having him so deep within you, was intoxicating. You wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in his arms, connected to him in the most intimate way possible.

“Josh…” you whispered, your voice shaky with emotion. “That was…”

“Shh,” he interrupted, pressing a finger to your lips. “Just enjoy it while you can. I’ll be filling you up again by the end of tonight.”

His words sent a thrill through you, the promise of more making your heart race. You could feel the beginnings of arousal stirring within you again, the aftershocks of their previous climax still lingering.

He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight. You lean back into his embrace and let his body envelop you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I never want this to end,” he says.

“I don’t either,” You reply.

He kisses the top of your head again, and you both relax, basking in each other’s presence. You’re so happy like you’ve never been happier in your life. You know this is where you’re meant to be, and you’ll never want it to end.

You lean back on his shoulder and close your eyes, letting the world wash over you. You know he’ll never leave your side and protect you from all harm. You love him with all your heart.

And you know he loves you, too.

[san8ny]

I COULD BE MOM, (unless you want to be dad?)

?: In which Ellie has been away on a trip, what better ‘welcome home’ gift than delusionally letting her get you pregnant with a strap?

!: Breeding, Praise, Slight spitplay, Strapping, Pussyeating, Obsessed!Ellie, says ‘mommy’ ONCEEEE!

“You can’t.”

Ellie tilts her head, lips falling into a frown, “Maybe if we try enough?”

Was she serious?

“You literally can’t though, Ellie, it’s biologically impossible. You nutting in me doesn’t mean we can have babies.” You roll your eyes, scrolling on your phone before it’s plucked out of your grasp and tossed to the side, “Hey—!”

“You’re so negative.” She smiles, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, shoving you back into the bed so abruptly as she sinks to her bruised up knees. You let out a shiver at the implication of what was to be taken place, eyeing the muddy suitcases near the entrance of your shared bedroom before bringing your gaze to what she was doing, “You haven’t even unpacked yet..”

Wrapping her arms around your hips, she pulls you closer to her ravishing mouth, cooing as she thumbs your swollen folds, “Yeah, but i’m a starved woman, you that surprised?” With that, Ellie digs in.

It was going so well, mouth feeling like heaven on you ‘til she spoke up,

“Biologically, did you know the clit has tens upon thousands of nerves?” She says out of nowhere, lifting her head up to display the lower half of her face soaked with your arousal, and more importantly, sizing up your smart-ass retort from earlier when she asked to breed you. “Fuck off..” You tiredly reply, not finding it in yourself to tell her off how you want, not with the delicious feeling of your stomach beginning to coil in what seems like a long-awaited orgasm— but Ellie’s not feeling nice.

She quickly retracts her mouth away, a dramatic ‘pop!’ from your clit when initially does so. She gets up, jogging over to her suitcases to get something, all while your mouth is gaped at her audacity. You’re eagle-spread like a damn french girl, and she just..gets up?

She quickly returns back, sheepishly kissing your hipbone as a half-hearted apology, except you feel something cold and long slap onto it aswell.

Alarmed, you raise your head and are met with one hell of a sight, Ellie wearing what seems to be a literal death contraption— a long, beautifully sculptured, silicone cock, slightly curved at the end with an adjustable harness wrapped around Ellie’s gamine figure. Was this the reason your wife believed she could suddenly re-write the law’s of nature? You gulp when she slaps it once more against your bikini line, this time, slowly nearing your leaky entrance.

“Biologically, you think maybe ‘yer cunt might break from this?” She utters mockingly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of your lips before she runs the tip of the toy inbetween your folds ‘nice and easyyy’..getting it all nice and most importantly, wet. “Geez, who needs lube when I got one of these bad boys..” Ellie says, before trailing off with a laugh when you don’t seem to be focused on any of her words as she plugs you up.

You’re still finding yourself getting use to the exaggerated stretch of the dildo, it’s beginning to feel like it’s practically splitting you in two. You attempt pathetically at gripping the sheets but find yourself wrapping your arms around Ellie, needily pulling her closer to your still-clothed chest. “A-aaah..”

She smiles at your gasps and whines, your pleasure alone intensifying whatever shes feeling by a ton, even if she wasn’t the one taking it. “Just grab ‘onna me.” Ellie says, voice void of any previous teasing but instead a certain softness, “I won’t be mad, baby.”

You nod, eyes cinched closed when she begins picking up momentum; you almost immediately wrap your legs around her lower back, wanting her even deeper, somewhat understanding what ‘dickmatized’ meant now. “Uhn! Uhn! E-llie!” The redhead chortles at the rhythmic hiccuping of her name, groaning when the sharp pressure of your heels drive further into her back, definitely leaving bruises later, “Just take it slowly, ye—eah? ah! ‘m right here, giving it to my favorite girl..”

You two have been in for a while, and Ellie has you a complete mess, milky fluids forming at the base of her cock each time she bullies her hips into yours, ripping a cute sob outta you. If she could marry you a thousand times over, she would— she really would. If only you saw yourself through her eyes, the sheer and utter helplessness she feels when you’re handling kids, knowing you’d make the best mommy out there, and god, she’s a sucker for you, buying you everything you ever ask because she’s head over heels in-love with your very essence. She’ll build you up everytime you fall and never complain. You were her dream girl.

Speaking of dream, she gently pats your cheek, asking you in a docile voice if you’re still with her, and when you nod back, with lttle pools of crystals forming at the ends of your lashes, Ellie is about to free-touch cum at this point, needing to get you to that point with her ASAP. She runs her thumb over your lip as you instinctively take in her digit, swirling your tongue around it while she quickens up her pace, sinful slaps of skin echoing throughout the humid room and likely to the rest of the home too, a clear indication of how far she was willing to go with you. “I-i’m gonna cum..” you mewl pitifully, tits moving forward eachtime she rams her strap into ‘ya, finally meeting ellie’s gaze somewhat as saliva seeps past your lips, dribbling down the thumb she had on the tip of your tongue. Ellie brings her head down to your shoulder, rocking her hips hard and fast, a slight bulge forming in your lower stomach from how deep she was in your guts, all while her beautiful sounds play in your ear, each little huff and tuff of praise.

“So warm..so soft, y-you’re ‘gna be the end of me, mommy..” Ellie whimpers admittedly when the end of the strap repeatedly stimulates and bumps into her engorged clit, and to put an end to her soft streak, Ellie meanly presses a hand to your lower-belly, forcibly bringing you to, hands down, one of the most pornographic, blissful, soul-shattering orgasms you’ve ever had in a long tome, creaming all over the strap, your thighs and her tanktop. That sight of you alone, also, makes her cum when she finally bottoms out, body feeling limp as it falls over you.

She eventually rolls over you, draping a tatted forearm around her eyes to shield her from the moon beams shining in from your windows. “Why do we even open that one—“ However, upon noticing your steady breathing and occasional snores, she drops whatever she was gonna say, scooting closer to kiss you— lips lingering when she finally pulls back from your cheek.

She never understood when Joel and the other mopey adults around her would complain about marriage, and quite frankly, she doesn’t think she ever will, not until her cold dead body is ripped away from yours.

‘Til then, she was gonna build this family up with you, your future kid’s adoption papers still in one of her suit-cases as she lifts herself up to her elbows and eventually to her feet, retrieving a warm wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up with, especially not having the heart to wake you up.

Not that you could likely still walk after the number she’s done on you.

[themultifanshipper]

You and Charles in the same room, completely alone?

It was bound to happen. What the fuck did they expect. 

Inspired by that insane video of charles signing caps looking like a fucking 73 course meal

Warnings: smut, driver!teammate!reader, choking, sort of public sex, sort of edging? it gets a bit intense

You and Charles were signing your respective merch in one of the back rooms. 

Piles of shirts and caps lay in front of you on a massive table. 

This was great for PR. The Ferrari admin had filmed a little video of you signing the merch and was going to post it to the social media accounts. 

But she made one fatal mistake. 

She left the two of you alone together. 

She should have known better.

Within five minutes you and Charles had thrown caution out of the window and were making out on top of the shirts. 

“Fuck- Charles we need to stop. They'll be back any second for the… uhh...” you trailed off as his lips travelled across your neck. 

He knew what he was doing this morning when he picked out his outfit. 

The grey sweats and the black shirt? Sinful.

 He knew it would drive you nuts.

And you fell right into his trap. 

The team knew about your relationship, and bless their hearts, they did their best to keep it under wraps, but the two of you did not make it easy. 

“You are right” he said, a hint of fake sadness in his voice “we need to finish this”  

He sighed and plopped you back down onto the floor and carried on signing caps like nothing was amiss. 

Except he was visibly hard in his sweats, and your eyes drifted to his fucking arms, that looked good enough to bite. 

You didn't realise it was all on purpose.

“Just like that?” you asked in disbelief, but you could see the tiny smirk threatening to appear at the corner of his lips. 

“Well” he shrugged, smug as shit, “If you really need me that much, we could kill two birds with one stone, but I don't think you would be up to the task” 

Now, you had no idea what that meant, or what he could possibly be planning, but just the insinuation that you could be less competent than him at something made your blood boil. 

And he knew that. Because even though you were dating, competition was in your blood. 

The need to be the best was what powered you both. 

So when he casually said “You use the table, and I will use you, as a table, and we will see who gets through their pile quicker.” Well… you didn't even think before saying yes. 

It was all Ferrari's fault anyway. They knew what you two were like. What the fuck were they thinking. 

That's how you ended up bent over on the table, doing your best to sign merch, while Charles pumped his cock inside you at a leisurely pace, while using your back as a fucking table. 

It had started as just cock warming, him stretching you out while you worked in silence. 

But your rythmic clenching around him and the slight shift of his hips every time he leaned over you to grab a cap were driving you both insane. 

He didn't even seem phased about it, he just signed a shirt, threw the shirt, grabbed a cap, signed it, threw the cap, grabbed another shirt, rinse and repeat, without ever breaking a sweat. 

You on the other hand, were having a bit of trouble concentrating. 

The stretch of his impossibly thick cock inside your barely prepped cunt was sending you reeling on every maddeningly slow thrust. 

You were so on edge you could probably come just from this. 

“So tight, baby. You sure you want to keep going? You seem to be struggling down there”  

Smug prick. 

“Yes honey, I'm all good” the fact that your voice wavered while you spoke didn't give you away at all. 

“Okay” you could hear the smirk in his tone “I guess that means I can go deeper, then” 

He didn't even wait for confirmation before slamming into you to the hilt. 

You cried out, hanging your head as he laughed at your reaction, going deeper and slightly faster on every thrust. 

“Come on, these aren't going to sign themselves” he snapped his hips again and you sobbed out a moan, not making any move to grab another shirt. 

He dropped the pen and cap he was holding, bending over your body to speak in your ear. 

“Are you alright?” 

You were trembling, your entire body was on fire. 

You shook your head ‘no’ and your eyebrows were scrunched together as your breaths came in short and ragged. 

That wasn't normal so Charles went to pull out but you gasped and grabbed his hips to pull him back in. 

“No! Charles please.” You sounded so broken, Charles was very confused. 

“Baby what is it, what do you need?” 

“I-” you were grinding your hips back involuntarily, and his hands tightened when you clenched painfully tight around him. “I need to come Charles. Please, fuck I'm so close” 

Charles chuckled lightly and ground his hips in tight circles, just to hear you whine. 

“Oh baby. Is it too much, are you really that desperate to come?” he mocked, but you just let out another whiny moan. 

He brought a hand around your neck, pulling you up so your back was against his chest. 

From the side he could see the tears in your eyes, frustrated by the lack of proper stimulation. 

“I'm going to make you come, mon amour, don't worry” 

And with that he snapped his hips forward. 

Your answering moan was so high pitched he knew you only needed another few thrusts. 

So he swiftly pulled out and turned you over so fast you barely had time to register him picking you up and laying you on the table before he was back inside you. 

His hand was back around your throat, and the other went to where you were joined, thumb rubbing over your puffy clit while his hips slapped against yours. 

Hard, and fast. 

“I love you” he groaned. 

“I-“ your eyes were rolling back and you promptly lost your voice as the intense pleasure washed over you. 

You'd been on edge so long it was like a tidal wave, your back arched almost painfully and it lasted much longer than usual. 

The sight of you so lost, so utterly consumed with pleasure was too much for Charles and he came inside you with a punched-out gasp, hips bucking at the suddenness of it. 

Your body finally unclenched and you slumped on the table, trying to catch your breath after that mind-numbing orgasm. 

Charles leaned over you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you too” you rasped and he smiled down at you. 

You pulled him in for a proper kiss, pouring all your love and affection into it. 

“Okay, now we really need to finish signing the merch” you said, and he giggled. 

You quickly got dressed, the sticky situation in your underwear not overly pleasant, and made quick work of the rest of the pile. 

You were back in hospitality an hour later, drinking coffee in an effort to keep you awake enough for the media duties you both had to attend to later, when the PR manager stormed in, absolutely fuming. 

“I have two questions for you, and I had better be fucking wrong about what I think the answer is” you'd barely ever seen her so angry. 

“First question, why have you put the wrong signatures on the wrong fucking merch?” 

She held up a CL16 shirt that clearly had your signature on it, and one of your caps with Charles' sprawly hand writing on it. 

You and Charles glanced at each other guiltily. 

“Secondly, why the fuck is this one” she plucked out another shirt from god knows where “why is this one soaking fucking wet?” 

Well really, what were they expecting? Putting you two in a room together with no supervision? It was bound to happen. 

[no-144444]

mixup- o.piastri

summary: oscar gets a bit jelly when you and franco get close

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

a/n: for the person on my last post who wanted the photo of mark webber with his grippers out (just put the fries in the bag) here is two!

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When Oscar saw you for the first time, he was slightly stunned into silence. He knew who you were, everyone in McLaren did. You were one of the board member’s daughters, and you knew everyone. You were friends with everyone, you knew every driver on the grid, everyone. Except Oscar. He’d somehow side stepped your friendship despite you knowing every other driver on the F1 grid, F2 grid, and F3 grid. 

Anyway, he was in love with you, and that’s all that mattered. You befriended him in his first year, but you’d only been around sporadically in the 2024 season, and when you were there, all of your time was spent catching up with all the other drivers, and Oscar could only steal so much of your time. That didn’t mean that you two didn’t text though. You and him had months and months of ‘friendly’ texts, and on more than one occasion he’d almost be driven to send the dreaded ‘what are we?’ text, but thankfully, Logan usually stopped him. 

He did not like the way you were talking with Franco and had been for a while. He was touching your arm, you were laughing at something he said, and Oscar couldn’t control the frown on his face. 

“Jesus christ mate, he’s actually going to get hurt if you don’t stop staring daggers at him,” Lando joked. 

“I’m not,” Oscar huffed, getting on with eating his lunch. 

“Have you asked her out yet?” Lando asked, and Oscar just… avoided eye contact. “Come on mate! She’s never going to say yes to you if you don’t actually ask her!”

“Well, she’s also never going to say no, if I don’t ask her,” Oscar pointed out, purposefully waving a piece of salmon much too close for Lando’s comfort. 

Lando pushed his fork back. “She’s not going to say no!”

“Hey Y/n!” Zak called, sitting at the table next to them. 

“Hey Zak,” you smiled. It was an easy, gentle smile, the kind that drove Oscar crazy. 

“Where have you been all day?” he mused, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you and Franco, who was slowly walking abc to Williams. 

“I was with Franco, actually,” you explained. “I told him I’d never been at the circuit before so he gave me a tour of the entire paddock, and of Williams. I met all of his mechanics and all, it was great!”

He chuckled. “So when’s the wedding?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like that, well… it kind of is. We’re apparently going on a date so, we shall see!” you admitted, a nervous smile on your lips. 

Oscar and Lando locked eyes. Oscar’s were full of shock and panic, whereas Lando’s were full of amusement. 

“Y/n!” Lando called, alerting half the canteen. “I thought you were with Oscar?”

Oscar had one thought:

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.

But he didn’t. Oscar buried his face in his hands as Lando stood there, digging him a deeper hole. He would’ve rather just lived out his friend-zoned life and still be your friend, but with the way Lando was rambling on, he would be lucky fi there wasn’t a fucking restraining order. 

“And like… all the texts and stuff! I thought you two were hitting it off, they seemed pretty flirty to me! And I’m an expert on that type of thing. And he’s like… in love with you or whatever, and you like him too! Isn’t he pretty! You told me he was pretty once when you were drunk, don’t deny that!”

You stood there with an amused smile on your lips. “I think if Oscar was actually in love with me, he would’ve made a move by now,” you chuckled before walking off, but not before ruffling Oscar’s hair. Oscar was bright red. Bright red. Once you were out of ear-shot, the entire canteen was laughing at the situation. Mark clapped a hand on his back. 

“That went over about as well as a dead horse,” he chuckled. Oscar shook his head, smiling despite himself. 

“I’m fucked,” he sighed. “I fucked it up. She’s going out with Franco.”

Mark shook his head. “Not if you confess now.”

Oscar stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

Mark rolled his eyes. “The girl is mad about you!” Oscar groaned but Mark shushed him. “Seriously! She adores you. You just need to ask her out! Fuck Franco, he’s a newbie, you’ve been his friend for 2 years now, and Lando isn’t wrong, those texts are flirty!”

Oscar looked at Mark, unimpressed, but then turned to Lando (who had a very big smile on his face, awaiting a ‘thank you’) with a scowl. He got up and brought his lunch with him. “Neither of you are helpful!”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Somehow, he ended up in your hotel room at the end of the night, his lips on yours. He hadn’t told anyone about this. Whatever it was, he wanted it to be his and yours only. No teasing comments from Lando, no ‘advice’ from Mark. It had started a few months ago, one drunken night that led to too much, but neither of you stopped. Neither of you were drunk the second time it happened, and since then you’d been hooking up every now and then, just to relieve stress. 

“Osc,” you mumbled against his lips. He smiled. You'd been making out for about 40 minutes, and the nights either ended with mind blowing sex (with the girl he was in love with), or a movie and sleeping in your bed. Win-win either way. You straddled him against the headframe, his shirt already off and you in your bra and sleep shorts, he was kind of hoping for the first one.

“Hm?” he muttered, never pulling away. Having his hands on you, your hands on him, it felt good. 

You pulled back with a nervous expression, and he stilled. Had he done something to upset you? Had he gone too far? 

“You weren’t upset today,” you stated. 

He stared at you, slightly confused. “Yes?”

You frowned. “You really don’t actually like me, do you?” you chuckled, but it wasn’t a real chuckle. It was too sad to be your chuckle, and the way you pushed yourself off his lap and held your legs to your chest. 

He panicked. How was he supposed to explain the 2 years of yearning he’d partaken in? “I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, and your eyes widened, so he just buried his face in his hands again. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

You laughed. Your real, gorgeous laugh. “I love you too.”

He ripped his hands away from his face. “But Franco-?”

“I was trying to make you jealous!” you scoffed. He rolled his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Why didn't you just talk to me?!” you accused, and you both just started laughing at how stupid you both were. 

“Come here,” he told you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. “I’m really fucking glad you tried to make me jealous today.”

“Did it work?” you giggled.

“Very much so,” he admitted, biting into the side of your neck hard enough to make you let out a squeak, which made you both laugh. 

You turned to him, running a hand through his unruly hair. You pressed your lips to his. 

“I love you,” he confessed (again). You smiled. 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

thanksgiving with jason todd, except you are the one getting stuffed ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

jason todd smut

size difference jason! x reader

mentions of breeding kink and bondage

it was thanksgiving time, and though jason wasn’t a big fan of having your whole family come together as he was a selfish bastard who wanted to keep you all to himself. “come on, it’ll be so fun,” you beamed, trying to keep the energy high. though, clearly jason wasn’t looking forward to it with a permanent frown plastered on his face. you rolled your eyes, grabbing his hands, “come on, we get to talk and catch up with family and also eat great food,” you nudged him playfully, his frown only making you grin even more.

he snaked his strong arms around you, “there’s only one meal i want,”he grinned mischievously , kissing your neck. you playfully swatted him, “don’t, the guests will be here in just over an hour.” you narrowed your eyes as a warning, though the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. his grip around your waist tightened, pulling you back into his muscular chest. “come on, you need to relax from all your cooking,” he snuggled deeper into your neck. “you could help me relax by helping me clean up,” you grumbled as you pushed away from his embrace to wipe the countertop.

“i’ll be quick, i promise” he whispered into your ear, nibbling it. “can help you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours yeah?” he grinned, you couldn’t even protest at that, because you’ve been working so hard on preparing this thanksgiving dinner making it perfect, and jason working to get his mind off seeing family meant no sex for two weeks. whilst it sounded like a normal amount of time, it really wasn’t for you two, whilst he worked in the garage for long hours, you had your fingers shoved up your cunt pretending it was his. even dry humping his pillow with his scent.

“better be quick,” you glared, though the smile on your face said otherwise. jason and lifted you on the countertop, bending you over it. “wait, not the countertop we would need to cle-“ a harsh smack on your ass stoped you mid sentence, “i told you i’ll make it quick, stop worrying and let me fuck you like a slut.”

you couldn’t help but to shiver when you felt him pushing up your dress where it laid like a bundle of mess around your stomach. he then pushed your tiny thong to the side, not wasting a second as he slipped a finger inside. “fuck, you are already soaked,” you didn’t even need to turn to see the wicked grin he had on his face, god his tone was already smug enough. “you were so against this, but yet you are soaked, maybe i should just let you be hm?” his fingers pulled away from your tight cunt and, you whined shaking your head. “p-please jay,” you pouted.

he let out a low chuckle, before shoving his thick fingers back in, knuckles keep, bullying your tight cunt. “already dripping hm?” he cooed, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it harshly. “n-need you jay,” you whimpered, you didn’t need his fingers or tongue. you needed his dick. “i know baby,“ he groaned, you could hear him unbuckling his belt, however you didn’t hear it drop to the floor. instead jason flipped you over, your back on the counter whilst he pushed your knees up to your chest, after shoving your dress above your tits. you mentally thanked yourself for picking a dress that was thin.

“would you let me tie you up baby?” you nodded eagerly, you felt him tie your wrists above your head, the belt not letting you budge. jason had ripped your thong, before shoving it into your mouth, tasting your own arousal. he fisted his own cock, it’s tip slightly pink and already leaking with precum. you whined wiggling your body on the counter top, “patience,” he grumbled smacking his fat cock on your pussy.

he didn’t even waste a minute before shoving it in you, the sheer size making your eyes tear up. his thrusts were deep, his large hands squeezing where he was. “you feel me there baby? you take me so well and deep,” he groaned. it wasn’t long before a white thick ring was formed on the base of his cock, “how about i stuff you up round with my kids?”

“bet you would like that with how much you love family events,” his grip almost bruising. you nodded eagerly, god you always wanted to start a family with him and being fucked dumb didn’t help. “p-please jay,” you whined. with your hands tied above you, you had no choice but you just let him take you, without having any grip on him. “fill me up,” you plead.

his grunts filled the room, you were getting closer and closer to your edge. “c-close” you mumbled, your breaths ragged and unsteady. “you know one thing i’m grateful for?” he whispered, “how well your pussy takes me, it doesn’t matter when, what time it is, she’s always so welcoming.”

“what are you grateful for sweet thing?” he asked, wiping the hair that was stuck to your forehead. “m-mph” whined, you couldn’t even think let alone think what you were grateful for. “come on, say something. i’m sure a girl as prim and proper as you wouldn’t be an ungrateful brat.”

you couldn’t form words, as a result you babbled a response. he shook his head in response, “no. only good girls get to come, and good girls will tell me what they are grateful for in a sentence.” you rolled your eyes at that comment. “y-you,” you mumbled, “i-i’m grateful for you jay,” you were so close, so so close but you knew jason could take it away from you in just a second.

“there we go, wasn’t that hard hm?” he teased, before finally letting you come. god you squeezed him so hard he also came with you, filling you up just how you wanted. “all relaxed now hm?” he grinned seeing your post orgasm glow, gently he unwrapped your wrists from the belt, and putting you upright on the counter. “can’t wait to see this little belly all round plump,” he grinned squeezing the soft flesh. you were limp, completely fucked dumb and the only response you could give was a dumb fucked smile.

[mwuaferrari]

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU - LANDO NORRIS

The balcony was quiet except for the soft murmur of the city below. The lights twinkled like distant stars, casting a warm glow on the two of you. You were wrapped in a blanket, knees tucked to your chest, watching Lando pace back and forth near the railing. He seemed restless, his hands occasionally running through his hair as if trying to untangle a knot in his thoughts.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get like this after a race—a mix of adrenaline and reflection that left him needing to burn off energy. But tonight felt different. There was a heaviness in the air, a weight that neither of you had addressed yet.

Lando finally stopped, his back to you as he leaned on the railing. He stared out at the horizon, the faint glow of the moonlight outlining his silhouette. You watched him quietly, sensing he needed the space to find his words.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of rain and the distant hum of engines. It brought you back to all the moments you’d spent by his side, watching him conquer the world, one race at a time. But this wasn’t about racing. You could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way he stole quick glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

Finally, he turned around, his hands gripping the railing as if it were the only thing grounding him. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw fear flicker in his eyes—not the fear of losing a race, but something deeper, more personal.

"You know," he began, his voice soft but steady, "there are things about me I’ve never been able to share with anyone else. Things I thought I’d carry alone forever."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or courage.

"But with you," he continued, a small, almost nervous laugh escaping his lips, "it’s different. You don’t just see the Lando everyone else sees. You see me, the real me. The boy behind the wins, the mistakes, the fears. And you stay."

Your chest tightened at his words. He was opening a door to a part of himself he rarely showed, and you could see how much it cost him to be so vulnerable.

He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It feels like I’ve known you forever, like you were always supposed to be here. Every wrong turn, every moment I thought I was lost—it was all leading me back to you."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in. Lando reached out, his hand brushing yours, his touch gentle and grounding.

"I know I don’t always say it," he murmured, his voice breaking slightly, "but it’s always been you. Even before I knew what I was looking for. It’s always been you."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. The city seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in a quiet certainty that felt like it had been written in the stars.

[hellsslibrary]

Could you write about Hiori, Chigiri, and Bachira giving their male!reader boyfriend a blowjob? Maybe Chigiri thigh fucking... Hiori sadistically making you wait to cum, and Bachira with his feet?

Blow it, move it, bite it, ride it. Just come on, make a move on it.

#a.n. : I absolutely loved writing this, so it's okay!! And it's kind of implied that you're all in Blue Lock... I have no idea where the camera-less bedroom came from, so :).

!!Warnings: male!reader, dom!Hiori and implied dom!bachira, top!reader in Chigiri's part (kind of), blowjob (Hiori), footjob (Bachira), thigh-fuck (Chigiri), Hiori is a sadist, overstimulation (Hiori), Chigiri is a sass (like always), Bachira... A little strange (but in a good way as always, yea). And reader is a football player too. Purely theoretically, one can imagine that this is a strap (except for the Hiori part, of course), so anyone can read it, I don't care anyway.

Hiori Yo.

Your hand slides through the blue hair for the umpteenth time that night. You have an incredible, overwhelming urge to grab them and plant that face deeper on your dick, but no... You just can't. How many times have you been denied an orgasm? Three or so, or maybe you've lost count.

Only that smug face with those bright blue eyes glowing with joy knows the exact number.

"Yo... Am I seriously unable to cum, even after all this?" you ask, knowing the answer perfectly well, but just like in the past, smoldering with hope that he will break up and give in.

"No," of course he won't, Hiori has been mumbling around your cock, sucking on your thick shaft for the last half hour.

You practically growl in frustration, trying not to move your hips or anything else, because it will only prolong this torture. And all because of what? In training, you didn't score a goal from his pass, which made him angry at you. He gave you such a perfect pass, and you missed it.

"Absent-minded boys like you need self-control, don't you think?" Hiori asks, batting his long eyelashes at you, looking straight into your eyes with that innocent look, which makes you almost melt.

His hand moves rhythmically on your cock while his tongue licks your glans from time to time, sometimes gliding over the base and over the bulging veins. He was clearly enjoying tormenting you like that, watching the precum trickle down your head, which he rather licked off, slurping on purpose.

The bed creaks slightly under your weight, clearly not designed for two people, especially if they are muscular in one way or another. It would probably fall apart if you were doing something more active here, but you don't even want to think about it, considering that you have to explain it to the Ego.

"Please, Yo... I'll do anything, please, it hurts," your voice is quiet, a whimper escapes from your throat; Hiyori's eyes rise to you again and a smile blooms on his lips when he notices tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Whatever you say..." The football player mutters, leaning closer and wiping the tears from your eyes before they can roll down your cheeks. "Okay, I'll let you."

Your hips jerk as you are suddenly pierced by the feeling of his mouth around your cock. Not teasing. Not slow. Uninterrupted. And the persistent, rhythmic sucking of your length, which makes you feel like you're already in Heaven.

Of course, it doesn't take long for you to cum. In just a matter of seconds, the knot in your stomach unties and you cum in Hiori's mouth with a guttural moan, clutching his hair in your hands, pushing into his mouth for a couple of seconds, and then exhaling tiredly.

Yo straightens up, licking the droplets of your cum from the corners of his lips, looking at your peaceful face, and then suddenly squeezes your softened cock.

"You said you'd do anything, darling," the blue-eyed man whispers, ecstatically watching your surprised face... If you don't like the deprivation of orgasm, then you will have to accept your fate of overexcitation.

Chigiri Hyoma.

"Mmm, you're enjoying this too much, big guy" Hyoma says, as he stares at your barely present face as you fuck between his thighs.

You wanted to fuck him so damn badly for real, just slide inside those damn tight muscles, but you didn't have too much time until the end of the break, so you had to manage somehow.

"I'm sorry... You have juicy thighs, has anyone ever told you that?" you ask, squeezing his knees a little tighter, trying not to put too much pressure on his right leg, rubbing your cocks together with your movements.

"Yes, thank you. You've said that about eleven times, if I remember correctly. For the last ten minutes," he replies, shrugging his shoulders, looking at how your cock slides between his thighs, over his smaller penis, smearing the precum on your stomach.

His hands instinctively grab onto the sheets, and he moans softly, arching his back. Your cock perfectly covered his own length from below, perfectly rubbed against the head, touching the sensitive bridle. Your "waters" were mixed together.

"We have a training session soon, come on... Otherwise, they'll be looking for us. And they will definitely find us, considering that you don't even hide your moans," Chigiri cheers you on, squeezing his own hips harder, which even started to make a sound from how your cock bumped lightly against his muscular thighs.

"I'm sorry..." you mumble it again, just staring at Hyoma's stomach, where you could see your cock sliding in and out of his thighs.

He snorts, placing his own hands on your palms, which are holding him under his knees, pulling you out of your semi-trance. His red eyes seem to be staring into your very soul, still filled with their usual cocky sparkle, but now clouded with lust.

"What?" your voice is softly heard in the empty bedroom, followed by Chigiri's moan as your cock grazes the bridle of his own again, and he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Nothing, nothing... You're just drooling," the red-haired man whispers, and you see a drop of water from your chin land on the back of Hyoma's thigh.

... Well, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much. So what? You're a simple man.

You quickly wipe your mouth on your shoulder, pushing Chigiri a little harder into the bed, making his back arch even more and a moan escapes your lips when you feel a familiar feeling in your stomach.

"Huh... Come on, come on, come on. Let's get together, okay? I want you to come, please..." Chigiri whispers, completely unaware of how much more beautiful he is now with red cheeks and a face bathed in pleasure... But what's the difference, huh? Your pace started to become less rhythmic and increasingly rough.

The sound of tremors echoed more and more through the almost empty room, and there it was... White light behind the eyes, two male moaning voices.

Ka-sploosh!

Bachira Meguru.

"This is a fun position, you know?" Bachira chuckles in your ear as he literally hangs on your back, his arms wrapped around your neck and his legs resting on your cock, rubbing it lazily.

"Are you sure you're comfortable? You can always sit forward..." You ask as his chest presses closer to your back and he kisses your cheek long and hard with a smile.

"Thanks for caring! But it's okay, really... Let's give [Your name] the younger a little more attention?"

You moan, throwing your head back on Bachira's shoulder as he starts to move his feet a little more actively. One of his feet runs along the length of your cock, while the other lifts your shaft. How does he even bend his legs like that? Who knows these football players.

His lips slide down your neck, covering it with kisses, occasionally sucking on your skin, making you sigh softly in pleasure. The forward's feet wrap around your entire length, starting to rub it in perfect synchronization.

"Megu... So good, it's weird, but good," you whisper into his neck, inhaling his scent mixed with the light scent of sweat, considering you're both post-workout.

"I'm glad! And he seems to like it too... Or is it her?" Meguru is seriously discussing the gender of your dick... Oh, the things you put up with for this man, honestly.

Your hand slides behind you, supporting his hip, so that it would be at least a little easier for him. Although he doesn't seem to care, because his feet move and hold your cock just perfectly.

His toes deliberately touch your veins along the base or run along the head of your cock, his heels sometimes stroking in circles on your balls, which are getting tighter with each passing second.

Why the hell did you even think to ask him about this? You looked at some new dribble he came up with, and your brain switched off and you asked him. Of course, it's not surprising that he agreed, but fuck...

Who knew that his feet were talented with more than just a soccer ball, right? Your balls were also satisfied, it seems.

"Want to cum? You always can, you know," a sweet voice breaks you out of your thoughts as Meguru presses his heel lightly on your balls, causing you to twitch a little, causing him to smile even wider.

"Of course... You'll make me cum embarrassingly fast..."

"There's nothing embarrassing about it! You make me cum just as fast when...! Mhmhm!"

He lightly punches your chest as you push your head into his neck to shut him up and not embarrass yourself any further.

The feel and sight of his toes on your cock is enough without him saying anything. Your cock twitches in his feet, but he holds it expertly, continuing to rub your cock, as if his orgasm depends on it, not yours. Although it's the same thing to him.

"B-Bachi..." You whine, really embarrassingly fast cumming as your sperm drips down his feet and he kisses your cheek encouragingly.

And then he cries out as you fall backwards, pinning him down and he immediately pushes you aside, looking at you.

"Fallen asleep? He must have enjoyed it too much," Meguru chuckles quietly, looking at your sleeping face, and then covers you with the blanket, kissing your forehead. "Now, shower! Just don't leave marks... Or [Your Name] will scold you, Meguru."

[moonlightwritingf1]

The snowfall before the storm | LN4

☃꙳·❅°*˖ summary ━━━━━━━ Forced to share a bed on a Christmas trip, longtime "enemies" Y/N and Lando wake up cuddled. Lando confesses he’s always wanted her close, and Y/N admits she feels the same, turning years of fake hate into love.

☃꙳·❅°*˖ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

☃꙳·❅°*˖ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.6k

It had been a long time since Y/N and Lando had been in the same room together, and yet, it always felt like their rivalry was alive and well. Despite both of them knowing deep down that they had feelings for one another, they maintained the façade of animosity. Whether it was playful jabs during their frequent group hangouts, competitive banter, or simply the way they both seemed to avoid any deeper moments, their relationship had remained locked behind layers of denial.

No one knew, of course, except for a select few. Even their friends had grown tired of the two of them acting like they couldn’t stand each other, always rolling their eyes at the fake quarrels and the sharp, teasing remarks. Y/N and Lando were practically magnetic—pulling each other closer, even though neither was brave enough to admit it.

It all came to a head during their Christmas getaway. A weeklong trip to a cozy mountain town with a group of close friends, escaping the chaos of the city for some much-needed holiday cheer. Snow had blanketed the town in a thick, glittering layer, the streets lined with twinkling lights, and the scent of pine was carried on the crisp air. The perfect holiday retreat—at least, that’s what everyone thought until the hotel situation became... complicated.

As the group checked into their rooms, an unfortunate mix-up led to only one remaining room that could accommodate them all. The hotel clerk, fumbling with papers and apologizing profusely, informed them that the only available suite was a single-room apartment, complete with a large king-size bed. Everyone exchanged nervous glances, silently wondering who would be the brave one to volunteer to sleep on the floor.

But no one had the courage to speak up, and as the night wore on, the inevitable happened: Y/N and Lando found themselves reluctantly assigned to share the bed. It seemed like the universe’s cruel sense of humor was working overtime.

“I can’t believe this,” Y/N muttered under her breath as she grabbed her suitcase, trudging toward the bed. “Of course, this would happen.”

Lando, always quick with a sarcastic retort, grinned. “Well, if it helps, I’m just as thrilled as you are.”

She shot him a glare, but he was already making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed, flopping onto the soft sheets. Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes; this was so typical of him. They’d spent years in this awkward dance of feigned hatred, and now they were here, forced to spend the night in such close quarters.

“I’m not cuddling with you,” Y/N declared, crossing her arms defiantly as she stood on the other side of the bed, eyeing the pillow.

“Who said anything about cuddling?” Lando raised an eyebrow, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You’re the one who’s practically falling off the bed. Might want to get closer if you don’t want to end up on the floor.”

Y/N opened her mouth to retort, but her exhaustion from the day’s travel caught up with her, and before she knew it, she found herself settling under the covers, facing away from him.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to a peculiar sensation. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone on her side of the bed. She could feel Lando’s arm wrapped around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. The warmth of his body was so comforting, so much more than what she had imagined. For a split second, she panicked. This was all wrong. They couldn’t be like this, not after everything.

But as she tried to pull away, she felt Lando’s grip tighten ever so slightly, his face nuzzling into her hair. She froze, unsure of what to do. Her mind raced—this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But then, a soft voice broke through the panic in her head.

“Can we delay getting up for a few more minutes, please?” Lando’s voice was hushed, almost like he didn’t want to disturb the moment.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at the tenderness in his tone. It was... different. More than just the playful teasing she was used to. This was real, and it was making her heart race in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“I... I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She wanted to pull away, but there was something in the way his arm was holding her that made her reluctant to break free.

Lando chuckled softly, the sound warm against her ear. “I promise you’re not the only one uncomfortable right now. But, I’ll admit it, Y/N... I like having you close. I’ve always wanted this.”

Y/N’s breath hitched at his words. Always? She turned her head slightly, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was buried against her hair. She couldn’t see his eyes, but the sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter. This wasn’t some joke, some prank. He really meant it.

“You’ve... always wanted this?” she asked, unsure if she was hearing him correctly.

Lando sighed, a soft smile in his voice. “Yeah. Always. I know it probably sounds ridiculous with how much we fight, but the truth is... I’ve always wanted to hold you like this. I’ve always wanted you close to me.”

The confession hit her like a wave, and she felt a rush of warmth spread through her chest. It was overwhelming. They had spent so much time pretending, so much time pretending to hate each other, that it had been easy to ignore the undeniable pull between them. But now, with the morning light filtering through the curtains and Lando holding her like he never wanted to let go, Y/N couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I’ve always wanted you too,” she confessed, her voice barely audible, but the truth in it was clear. “I just... I didn’t know how to say it.”

Lando’s grip on her tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he pulled her fully into his arms, cradling her against him. The movement was gentle, but it felt like everything was shifting between them in that one, simple action.

“I’m sorry for pretending,” Lando whispered, his lips brushing against the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to make things so complicated.”

Y/N shook her head softly. “No, it’s... it’s okay. I was just as scared. Scared of what it would mean. Scared of what we’d lose if we were honest with each other.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Well, I think we’ve already lost plenty of time.” He pulled back slightly, enough to look her in the eyes. “But I’m willing to make up for it. If you’ll let me.”

Her heart raced in her chest as she stared at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes that she had never expected to see. For so long, they had hidden their feelings behind insults and playful bickering, but now that the truth was laid out between them, it felt like everything had changed.

“I’d like that,” Y/N said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. She could feel the tension that had been between them for years finally melting away. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.

Lando grinned, a teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Well, I suppose this isn’t the worst way to start a Christmas vacation, huh?”

Y/N laughed softly, her heart light. “You really are something else.”

“I know,” he replied with a wink, pulling her even closer. “But I’m glad you’re here with me, Y/N.”

And as they lay there together, the world outside seemed to fade away. The snow continued to fall gently outside, and for once, everything felt perfect.

Y/N had always imagined what it would feel like to be close to Lando, but nothing could have prepared her for the way his arms felt wrapped around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the subtle warmth of his skin. It was a mix of comfort and chaos, her heart a rapid drumbeat against the tender backdrop of the morning light.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” she admitted quietly, her voice muffled against his chest.

Lando shifted slightly, his cheek brushing against her hair. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She tilted her head back just enough to meet his gaze. Those familiar blue eyes—always filled with mischief—now looked at her with something softer, something deeper. It was disarming, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“Because this is us,” she said with a soft laugh. “We’ve spent years pretending to hate each other. How does this just… happen overnight?”

Lando chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “It didn’t happen overnight, Y/N. At least not for me. I’ve liked you for a long time—since before we even started all this bickering. But every time I tried to get close, you’d push me away.”

“I pushed you away?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “You’re the one who started this whole enemies act!”

He smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Oh, so you don’t remember calling me a spoiled brat the first time we met?”

“That’s because you were acting like one!” she shot back, unable to hide the smile creeping onto her face.

Lando shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe I was. But you didn’t exactly make it easy to impress you. You’ve always had this... wall up.”

His words struck a chord, and she felt her smile falter slightly. “It wasn’t about you,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “I just… I didn’t know how to let people in. I thought if I acted like I didn’t care, it’d hurt less when things didn’t work out.”

Lando’s expression shifted, the teasing glint replaced with something gentler. He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I wish I’d known that sooner. I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” she said quickly, then hesitated. “Okay, maybe I hated you a little at first. But then I got to know you, and it got... complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip as she debated whether to say the words out loud. But the look in Lando’s eyes gave her courage.

“Because I started to like you,” she confessed, her cheeks warming. “And that scared me. So I thought if I pretended to hate you, it’d be easier to ignore.”

Lando stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, sitting up slightly.

“You!” he said, grinning. “Do you know how many times I almost said something, only to stop myself because I thought you’d bite my head off? All this time, we’ve been playing this stupid game, and we both felt the same way.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. “We really are idiots, aren’t we?”

“The biggest,” Lando agreed, his grin softening into a smile. “But maybe it’s not too late to fix that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I’m suggesting we make a pact. No more pretending, no more games. From now on, we’re honest about how we feel.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart hammering in her chest. “That’s a dangerous promise,” she said lightly, though the weight of his words wasn’t lost on her.

“I’m willing to take the risk,” he said, his gaze steady. “Are you?”

For a moment, she simply looked at him, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, the way his hand lingered on hers as if he was afraid to let go. And for the first time in years, she felt the walls around her heart start to crumble.

“Okay,” she said softly. “No more games.”

The rest of the day felt like a dream. Their friends, blissfully unaware of the shift between them, dragged the group out for a day of skiing and snowboarding. Y/N and Lando exchanged knowing glances and subtle smiles, their newfound closeness hidden behind playful banter that still carried a trace of their old dynamic.

At one point, Lando caught her staring at him as he zipped down the slope, his laughter echoing through the crisp mountain air. When he turned and caught her watching, he winked, sending a flush of warmth through her despite the freezing temperature.

“You’re staring,” he teased when he reached the bottom of the slope.

“So what if I am?” she shot back, her confidence surprising even herself.

He grinned, leaning in just close enough for only her to hear. “I don’t mind. In fact, I like it.”

By the time they returned to the hotel that evening, Y/N’s cheeks were sore from smiling, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

That night, as they settled into bed again, the air between them felt different—charged with an unspoken understanding. Lando was the first to break the silence.

“So, do you want to cuddle, or are we going back to the ‘no touching’ rule?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide her smile. “I don’t know. You might be a terrible cuddler.”

He gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me? I am an amazing cuddler. Ask anyone.”

“Anyone?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned about how many people you’ve been cuddling?”

Lando laughed, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. “Relax, you’re the only one who matters.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the casual sincerity of his words, and she found herself melting into his embrace. It was easy, so much easier than she’d imagined, to let herself be vulnerable with him.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest.

“See? Amazing cuddler,” he said smugly, earning a playful shove from her.

“Don’t push your luck,” she warned, though her tone was light.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in years.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad it’s you,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her chest tightened at his words, and she tilted her head to look up at him. “Me too.”

Over the next few days, their relationship began to shift in subtle yet undeniable ways. Their friends noticed the difference almost immediately.

“Are you two... getting along?” one of them asked over breakfast, their tone laced with suspicion.

Y/N and Lando exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

“Something like that,” Lando said, throwing an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

It didn’t take long for the teasing to start, but neither of them minded. For the first time, they didn’t feel the need to hide how they felt.

On Christmas Eve, the group gathered around the fire, sipping hot cocoa and exchanging stories. The air was filled with laughter and warmth, but Y/N couldn’t focus on anything except Lando. He was sitting next to her, their hands intertwined beneath the blanket they shared.

As the clock struck midnight, signaling the start of Christmas Day, Lando leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered.

She turned to face him, her heart swelling with emotion. “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

And as the snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in a sea of white, Y/N realized that this—being here with him—was the best gift she could have ever asked for.

For the first time in years, she wasn’t afraid of what the future held. Because as long as Lando was by her side, she knew they could face anything together.

And maybe, just maybe, their story was only beginning.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

[dearest-nell]

morning person

s. harrington x reader, 2.8k

summary: a snapshot into the morning routine of steve harrington, now that the two of you have moved in together includes: established steve x reader, domestic fluff, steve is a busybody. warnings: literally none except i am still incapable of proofreading properly

a/n: honestly if anyone has any requests i would love to hear them, or just want to chat about this show that has ruined my life, because i'm spiralling into obsession over here.

People who complain about mornings have obviously never spent one waking up beside Steve Harrington, this you’re sure of. Because if they had, then they would know there was nothing in the world so deliciously saccharine than that drowsy, softened look on his face as he blinks the sleep away from mingling eyelashes, his lips curving upwards into a dreamy sort of smile. This isn’t even the first time he has awoken this morning. 

Steve Harrington is a morning person – an early riser, a dawn greeter, a restless child on christmas day. His body clock is set as the sun begins to kiss the horizon, his eyes blinking open into a dark, cool bedroom. New. This bedroom is new. He is still getting used to it, this apartment, a dingy one bedroom located just a few blocks from the rougher side of town. It’s a far cry from the mansion he used to live in, small and outdated and a little worse for wear, if he were to say so himself, but it’s home. It’s home because it’s his, and it’s home because it’s yours. You rent it together, bills strung haphazardly from paychecks of jobs you’d both rather live without. Steve doesn’t mind that he still works at the video store, not when it lights up the lamp on his bedside, or cooks the pasta on your shitty gas top that flickers every so often. He needs to call the service guy, now that he thinks about it, but it’s too early to matter. 

He can feel the heat of your body pressed in beside him, curled in on yourself, face buried into the pillow now folding creases into your skin, shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You have never been a morning person, he learned rather early on. You’re delirious, and grumpy, and still so beautiful despite the glare in your eyes when he used to wake you, and now, he knows to let you sleep. His impatience to rouse you, to kiss you and touch you is an urge he’s learned to swallow, so he pauses for a moment simply to stare, to smile to himself at the way you mumble in your dreams. 

He has the time, he thinks, considering it’s still dark out, and his shift at the store is not due for half a morning away, so he lets himself linger, tucked into the warmth of bedsheets as he works up the courage to leave it. He knows he needs to, that he’ll feel better if he does, that the routine always pays off even if it means parting from you. The air will be chilly outside, but he needs the cold to clear his head. His morning run is his time, after all. It gives him the solitude to consider, to plan, to unwind. 

He slips from the bed, careful footsteps walking a still unfamiliar path through the bedroom, boxes stacked against a near wall still unpacked from the move. His sneakers are in the wardrobe, well placed for a quick pick up, though he hasn’t accounted for his discarded shirt rippled right in his path. He trips, stumbling slightly, cursing himself as the thud that resounds as heavy feet meet the floorboards. He turns with a cringe, hearing you stir, though you do not rise as you wriggle deeper into yellow linens, disappearing beneath the comforter. 

He’s quick to dress, not wanting to risk another incident and the wrath of your disturbed sleep, slipping out into the living room to tie his shoes, still half asleep and blinking blearily. Despite its flaws, he likes this apartment more than he thought possible. There’s a passthrough between the kitchen and the living room that lets him talk to you as he cooks, you hanging over the bench to smile at him, pressing kisses into his shoulder when he dares to come too close. There’s a strange nook that sits in the wall by the door, one that now holds your keys and bumble bee umbrella, though neither of you are too sure why it was built in the first place. There’s a flat expanse outside the bathroom window that you want to build a flower box into, though Steve is yet to determine how, since neither of you are particularly good at D.I.Y. He loves this second hand couch Eddie found on the curb, loves the strange, abstract art piece Will designed for you both as a housewarming, loves the ceramic clown that Robin stole from an overpriced giftshop to hide in one of your moving boxes, now settled in the bookshelf beside an array of half read novels between you. 

He’s building a life here with you, and Steve is trying his best to remind himself of it every chance he get. There will be Christmases spent in these walls, games night drinks spilled on this carpet, and so many I love you kisses pressed to smiling cheeks beside that front door – he hardly knows how to contain the excitement for it all, even as he ties his laces. 

The morning is colder than he expected, but Steve has never been one to check the weather even now, even after he caught a cold from a raining run one morning, taking himself straight to work rather than home to you to shower. He figure’s he’ll wing it, deal with the consequences as they come, and enjoy the way you dote on him as he whines and groans in his flu like delirium days later. Cold, but not raining, he knows he’ll be fine this time. 

He’s been planning out this new jogging route as he goes, still learning the maps and turns of each new lane. He’d never been to this part of town much before the move, but he’s starting to acclimate one run at a time. It’s not too far from Hawkins, after all. It still feels like a familiar place, but it’s closer to the community college to save you the travel time. Steve’s a visual learner, after all. It gives him the roadmap that he’ll need to plan out his week. He’s taking himself the long way just to jot down the layout; the farmers market, the hardware store, the cafe with the good coffee. He waves to the people he passes by, few and far between, trying to appear friendly. He doesn’t know yet the culture of this community, but he’s eager to make a good impression. He recognises the old man who runs the news agency, stops to chat as they talk about the community centre. Steve’s agreed to volunteer for the refurbishment, he’s hoping it’ll help you both settle in, and you’ve promised to bake up your best batch of pastries to feed the hungry husbands as they work. Steve’s not yet a husband, but he’s planning on changing that in due time. 

The sun mingling with the clouds by the time he departs again, his pace quickening through midtown suburbia to take him home. The paperboy is tossing rolls at the doors, barely breaking on his bike as he passes house after house. Steve moves onto the road to avoid any collisions, shaking his head as the teen wheels off past a corner. He hasn’t even thought about his week yet, he realises, and his pace drops in consideration. There’s a stocktake coming up at work that will take more energy than he has to give, his parents are due over for dinner later in the week (he’s hoping they’ll cancel), and Robin has booked him tickets to some kind of gig that he’s certain he’ll hate. He mentally notes the checklist – things to buy, things to do, things to clean – now able to see his lot clearly without the buzz of a busy world around him. His days run smoother this way, alone, soles beating against the pavement. It starts him on the right foot. 

He’s out of breath when he arrives back on your block, panting heavily without the grace of a water bottle. He knows he should have brought one, but there’s no point stewing on it now. His thighs ache as he climbs the staircase, three flights of stairs his least favourite part of coming home. He can’t imagine hauling groceries up this stairwell is going to be an enjoyable weekly endeavour, but for the price of rent, he’s willing to make the effort, even with a slightly busted knee. 

He’s a little louder than he wants to be as he eases open the lock, slipping into a slightly brighter apartment than when he left. He doesn’t think you’re awake, but he takes pause to slow himself down, turning into the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Steve clicks on the faucet, hanging his head below the tap to let the cool water run directly into his mouth. He lacks grace as he guzzles down half a litre, droplets trickling down his cheeks and chin into unclean dishes from the night before. There’s urgency, he decides, in this drink. No type for a cup, no time to pause. He pulls away gasping, wiping a cupful of water across his sweat slicken face, unable to suck enough breath into his lungs. He leans back against the benchtop, eyes pressed skyward to focus on slowing himself down, letting his heart rate drop back to a blissful pace. 

He knows he should shower, but more than anything, he’s aching to get back between the sheets with you. It’s funny how he still misses you when you’re not within reach, even for an hour, even when he knows you’re still wrapped up tight in the comforts of his bed. It feels wrong to love a person this much, like he shouldn’t be made to feel so much, so deeply, every passing minute of every passing day. But he does. He knows he’s not the first to feel such a love, but he thinks he might be the only one regardless, because no one else has you. He thinks it’s strange that everyone in the world isn’t aching to be by your side, that hearts all over the town aren’t skipping beats at the wideness of your smile, the curve of your shoulder, the tickle of your laugh. This love must be special, then, because how else can he be the only one so enamoured by you. 

He forces himself into the shower, the water not yet warm even as he sinks his head beneath the stuttering stream. The pipes are old, though a cold shower bothers him far less than it bothers you. He’ll be out quicker this way. He is less thorough in his cleaning than he thinks he ought to be, scrubbing furiously at his body with the loofah you bought him, scraping sweat and red streaks into a now fading tan. He’s seeing the sun less these days in the dead of autumn, but he’ll make it up later. Right now, all he is focused on is climbing back into his bed, his skin stained with a citrus scent embedded into the new soap you had bought. It’s not his usual brand, but he thinks he likes the change anyways. It reminds him of summer picnics with you, fingers digging into orange peels, juices dribbling down his fingers until he tears out slices one by one. The scent lingers, filled with your orange flavoured kisses and sun streaked highlights burning into his mind, and yes, he thinks, the change isn’t so bad. 

He shuts off the tap, yanking his towel from the rack to pat himself dry, hair shaking out like a puppy dog with rambunctious excitement to be on his way. He doesn’t bother to redress, dropping the towel to the floor without focus, padding back towards your bedroom. You’re exactly how he left you, though a little more illuminated in the morning light. You’ve wiggled out of the blanket again, one foot kicked out to the side to regulate your body temperature, one hand reaching out towards his side of the bed. You reach for him in your sleep sometimes, and he hates the idea of not being there for you when you do. 

He clambers into bed his eagerness betraying his stealth, expert hands lifting your arm up for him to slide under, hanging it securely over his waist as he settles into the warm dip of the mattress. Your body responds instinctively, rolling into him with a groan, still not quite awake, though he can tell you’re not so far off. He runs fingers through your hair, trying to stave off your inevitable waking for as long as he can manage. Your alarm isn’t due for another hour, and he wants every second before that  spent just like this.

He doesn’t mean to fall back asleep, but sleep takes him anyways, his eyes blinking shut under the hypnotic pattern of your breathing beside him. He’ll wake up again groggier now, but there is nothing to be done to change it. He tugs you in closer, rougher in his sleep, his neediness permeating his unconscious mind until you’re pressed square against him. The movement spurs you awake, slowly and unintentionally, though it takes you a moment to understand why. 

There he is, your man, your darling boy, mouth hanging open with quiet, rumbling snores, arms wrapped around you in a protective lock. He’s never looked more beautiful, even with your eyes out of focus, one closed and pressed into the fabric of your pillowcase. You can smell the soap, feel the softness of his now cleansed skin beneath your curious fingertips, and you know he’s already been out of bed. He tries his best not to fall back asleep, but your smile curves wider to be blessed to see it. There’s a jealousy in you, after all, that he gets to watch you sleep so often. Times like these are rare, when you awaken first, and you’re greedy in your enjoyment of them. You’d take a picture if you thought you could reach the camera, but the moment would spoil, you were sure. You commit it to memory instead, every dip and curve and freckle and hair burned into your head until it’s all you can see. You want his face to be a fading image that blinks to life behind every close of your eyes, an after image repeating itself well into the day when you’re far away from him. 

He is so lovely, and you are so in love. 

The alarm breaks the two of you out of your reverie, your body jolting at the surprise of it. Steve is slower to start this time, groaning a drunken sort of sound as you slam your hand down on the rattling clock. His arm tightens around you, dragging you until your body is half wedged under his own, your giggles drowning out into muffled chuckles as your face burrows into the crook of his neck. 

“I fell back asleep.” He mutters, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

“I know.” You coo back, adjusting the curve of your back to a more comfortable position, tangling legs between his own until you’re thoroughly wrapped. 

“You sound awake.” He mumbles back, squeezing at your waist with unmasked affection. “Were you up?” 

“Yeah.” It’s an airy sort of confession, made to match the tender strokes of fingers reaching to scrape lovingly at his scalp. “Just watchin’ you sleep.” 

“Perv.” He teases, kissing at your hair, mouth hungry and missing your skin entirely. He lights up as you giggle, his head lifting with heavy blinks to gaze down at you, hair pressed upwards into a lopsided mess. You do your best to pat it down for him. “You like what you see?” 

You crook your head to the side, focusing your gaze in a tender expression. “Something like that.” His brow arches curiously, leaving you to laugh again. “I love you, you moron.” 

His smile widens, head dropping to nuzzle his nose roughly into your cheek, lips catching on your jaw every so often with exaggerated noises of enthusiasm. “Love you too, baby.” 

There is silence for a minute, nothing but his lips dragging affection across the planes of your cheek, his hands wandering underneath the fold of your bedshirt to press fingertips into fading stretch marks across your hips. You’re worried he’ll fall asleep again, and you know you don’t have the heart today to wake him a second time. 

“You want breakfast? I can make jam on toast?” 

He hums a happy sound, though does nothing to release his grip on you. “Yeah, okay. Gonna have to escape me, though. Can’t make my arm move.” 

He pretends to try and shuffle his grip, putting on a little show with a pout when his hold does not dislodge. You roll your eyes, brushing the pad of your thumb against his brow bone. 

“Five more minutes, then.” 

Steve was back asleep within three.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Toto’s Daughter (part 1)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

Most would think that it is not easy to be Toto Wolff's daughter. But that was not your case. You weren't part of the Formula 1 world. You lived abroad far from the world your dad was in. Everyone knew that you existed, of course, but you did your best to make your life as private and peaceful as possible, away from the public eye. And you did it successfully.

When you were younger you often attended races, you traveled with your dad all over the world, you were surrounded by big names, but over time, as you got older, that world stopped being of interest to you. You found your hobbies, your interests and your life, which you enjoyed every day.

When Lewis Hamilton won his first Formula 1 championship, you were only 9 years old. He was not a stranger to you, you practically grew up around him. Your dad held him in high esteem and enjoyed working with him. Over time, for your dad, Lewis Hamilton was no longer just a "driver", he became part of your family. Your family and Lewis often hung out outside of work, going on vacations, family lunches, birthdays, celebrations and things like that.

You had a good relationship with him, he would always ask you something here and there, joke with you, ask you about school, the usual things that adults ask children. That’s exactly what you were then, a child for him. To him you were Toto’s little daughter and to you he was almost like an uncle.

As the years went by, you grew up, you went to study abroad where you ended up living, and Lewis continued to work with your dad and be in a close relationship as before. Everything was the same except you were no longer part of the fast world they lived in.

The media were interested in your life, they were eager to find out what Toto's daughter was doing, where she lived, who she was dating, they wanted to know anything, but you didn't give them any material.

For Toto and Susie's 13th wedding anniversary, you decided to surprise everyone and come to the celebration that the two of them organized for close friends and family in a beautiful villa in the south of Italy.

It's an understatement to say that you stole the show when you showed up. All grown up and beautiful, you have become a real woman. All eyes were on you since even your immediate family hadn't seen you in a while.

You looked like a real lady when you showed up in a light yellow floor length dress (with a slightly deeper neckline than your family would have liked but oh well) over your tanned skin with long curled golden hair that fell over your shoulders. You really were something to see.

“Dear family, dear friends, I would like to take a moment to thank you for being here with us” Toto said moving to hold the toast as he stood next to Susie with one arm wrapped around her. You were all sitting at the long big table waiting for dinner so your dad took the opportunity to thank everyone.

“Thank you for taking the time to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary with us here in Italy. Susie and I appreciate and love you all very much and there is no one else we would rather share these moments of happiness with than all of you. I'm especially glad that my daughter y/n is with us today, since she's not so little anymore, so I can't force her to spend more time with me and Susie anymore or ground her for not being with us more often” You blush as everyone’s gaze settle on you for a moment and laughter rings through the room.

“And finally, I want to thank the most important person in my life for making me the happiest person in the world for so many years. My rock, my biggest support in everything always and forever, my beautiful wife. I just want you to know that I look forward to every new day with you, that you are my true happiness and that I don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to know. I love you and I look forward to being with you for the rest of my life. Happy wedding anniversary love.” As Toto finished his toast, Susie's eyes glazed over with tears at his touching words, and so did yours.

Everyone clapped as the two kissed. You were really happy for the two of them. You loved seeing them as happy and in love as they were the first day they met and you could only wish you could find someone to love you the way your dad loves Susie.

Oh, what you would give to hear someone talk about you like this in front of everyone. To show this much love for you, to show you off so proudly.

“I’m so happy that you’re here, y/n” Susie said giving you a hug after the dinner.

“I’m happy to be here with you too. I’m having a really good time so far, I think that from now on I want to be involved in these kinds of family gatherings a little more often.”

“Honey, we always invite you, but you rarely come..”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry about that. You know that I’ve been busy with myself for the last couple of years.”

“I do know. Everyone’s been asking about you though. They can't believe the woman you've grown into. Everyone remembers you as the little girl with braces who sat on her dad's lap in the garage.” Both of you laugh as you remember those days.

“If you had walked past me, I'm not sure I would have recognized you, y/n” Susie’s eyes shift on the talking figure behind you. You turn your head to the side only to see Lewis with his hands in his pockets standing behind you and admiring you.

“Lewis..hi” You smile at him offering him a hug which he gladly accepts.

“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up, it’s been a while” Susie says before disappearing to find her husband.

“How have you been, y/n? I always ask Toto about you, but I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with life, but in a good way. I dedicated my time to working on myself and my career and enjoying myself as well, traveling the world and so on. I can't complain.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well. It’s crazy to me how much you’ve changed. You’re not a little girl anymore that I used to ask about school, you’re..a woman now.” You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes were stuck on you. He was completely stunned by your beauty.

“Yeah, well I prefer to think that I’m more fun now than I was before no?” You wink at him making him laugh. “Anyway, what’s up with you? Heard you’re breaking up with my dad and going to Ferrari next year?”

“Yeah, well you know..It was not an easy decision to make, but the red car was one of my biggest wishes as a child, I think now is finally the time to fulfill it. If not now, when?"

"I understand although it's definitely gonna be hard to let you go." You tilt your head giving him a soft smile.

"I'm never gonna leave you guys." Lewis says. "I'll always be here, one way or another."

You spent the rest of the evening hanging out with friends and family, sharing stories from your life that they were happy to hear. Lewis spent most of his time around your dad, and you would glance at him every now and then only to catch him already secretly looking at you.

You haven't seen him live for a long time, of course, you've seen his pictures online, but you couldn't believe that he really still looks that good live despite his age.

When you were younger you didn't pay too much attention to him, you never looked at him in that way to think if he was hot or not. Especially because when you were younger he was in a long-term relationship with his girlfriend at the time, and after all, he's always been your dad's friend. But now, now that you are a little older, if you wanted to have someone by your side who is mature, who knows how to treat a woman, who is protective of you and who would take all the stars out of the sky, you know that Lewis would be the right choice for that.

What you expected even less was the knowledge that since Lewis saw you again after so many years, he hasn't stopped thinking about you for a second. He couldn't get you off his mind, and you found that out in a very unexpected way.

The next night you got dressed for another dinner and you wanted to ask Lewis to take a picture of you from the balcony of his room because his room had a better view of the sea than yours.

You stood in front of the door of his room and knocked and knocked, but he didn't open. At that moment, something did not give rest to your curiosity, so you let yourself into his room on your own.

You slowly scanned the room and saw that there were clothes on the bed prepared for tonight's dinner, and the door to the bathroom inside the room was closed. You moved a little closer to the door and leaned your head towards it and heard the water coming from the shower.

But that wasn't all you heard. The next word that came out of Lewis' mouth completely shocked you and made you gasp.

"Fuck, y/n.." You heard from the other side of the door.

The short whimpers, long-winded moans, the filthy sound coming from his mouth almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted to run away and pretend like you never heard this because you weren't supposed to hear it in the first place. But then you thought you had heard wrong and that he had said someone else's name because it couldn't possibly be true that Lewis was thinking about you this way. So you leaned your head back towards the door to try to hear something, anything again.

"Oh yes, just like that.." He groaned. "Just like that, y/n"

part 2

[moonsaver]

I’m just imagining the arranged marriage thing but this time it’s Sunday who is head over heels for reader (maybe he was the one who set this up in the first place! This could also tie into reader being higher status but Sunday does something to make them fall and then saves them by entering a relationship with the head of the oak family) but reader doesn’t like him or is into someone else, the angst….i feel like Sunday would do everything to make them love him but it just won’t work so in the end he just begs them to at least pretend they love him and that’ll be enough. A happier prompt on this could be he does actually succeed in getting some of their genuine love in the end. Anyway just thought of this after seeing a clip of Aqua and Akane from oshi no ko. Don’t judge me.

Okay, tons of possibilities here so lets go turn by turn because i really like this idea and unfortunately let it marinate for way too long

And it might have become unintentionally yandere, so i might redo it lol + there's not much fluff.

1 . Sunday arranging the marriage himself because he really likes reader – normal au

Sunday would definitely do this if he was pushed to his wits’ end. If his feelings for you not only disintegrate, but instead worsen and delve deeper, and on top of that, if he senses you yourself are drifting away from him. The added pressure of not reaching you in time after a conclusion to his own feelings is scary to him. In his desperation, he might as well pull some or the other reason out of his ass to marry you, even going as far as to even bribe your parents/guardians or anyone who has the power to object on your behalf.

Negotiations, contract handling, etc.. are all planned by him, so if you have a problem or you want to object, you can only do it by directly confronting Sunday himself. The added intimidation of his knowing, mysterious smile when he stands before you, almost irking you to continue in silence when you hesitate at wanting to object is something he almost relishes. Any problem you might have, has to be directly communicated to Sunday.

In the actual marriage? He's much easier on you. The hard part of coercing you into the marriage was over. He allows you more freedom in the marriage than he does outside of it.

He allows you separate rooms, reigns in any affections for you until you're comfortable, and even openly lets you know you two won't have to immediately consummate your marriage. He'll generally make sure you're comfortable in your marriage.

Of course, deviations and exceptions occur if you happen to still have lingering feelings for.. some nobody. He's bitter about it, so so bitter you can feel the tension in the air when his smile slightly falters at even the mention of their name. Sunday might try to hasten the process of you getting “comfortable” and perhaps even start forcing a few affections on you, such as kissing or holding your hand, brushing your hair in the morning and before bed, lingering his eyes on your lips. He might even not so subtly try to pressurise you, by telling you things like “at this rate, many might not even think we are married, my dear”. 

He plays slightly dirty, but there's so many moments of clarity that he hesitates still. He doesn't want to force you to love him - he wants it to happen on it's own. He's often so loving to you from afar in hopes you'll notice and maybe even return them, but when you look away in anxiousness or discomfort, Sunday's smile falters into a resigned, solemn expression. It hurts, deeply.

2. Sunday arranges the marriage with a reader of higher rank

Its similar, but you'll find the process is hastier. Perhaps it even causes a few slip ups in the middle.

Sunday would be practically tearing at his own hair before he finds the key to catalyze the negotiations of your marriage with him. If it's something that happens to knock you down or push you into unfavourable circumstances, he hesitates. But if you happen to like someone else? All that hesitation vaporises in an instant. He's practically over the moon when you have no one to turn to, his hand is almost shaking from excitement when he reaches it out to you. 

He's much more.. smothering if it makes sense, but he's not outright/direct about it. He always wants to be wherever you are, sometimes stands too close for comfort beside you, and even puts you in circumstances where you won't necessarily be able to push back in the case you damage your already fragile image or so. He's so elated, it's almost creepy. If you don't seem to be driving the relationship, or remain stagnant, his suspicions will grow immensely regarding your feelings for anyone else. Whenever you aren't present, he probably rifles through your belongings, scours for any possibility of traces of that nobody in your life.

He insists on spending the night with you – a familiar knock at the exact same time almost every night on your room's door. He stays with you, talking until it's late at night and you're too tired to shoo him away. But he'd never think himself superior than you, rather he almost takes advantage of it. He's constantly telling you how much incharge of the relationship you are. He disguises choices he wants to make on your behalf as something you can decide on. “Would you like a separate room for us both, or would you like us to have connected doorways?” , “shall I spend the morning with you, or the night?” , or so on. Not doing anything with him makes him sour, but he hides it with a smile. Sooner or later your plans are sabotaged, and in the end he joins you in “fixing” them anyway, and well.. since he's already been here for so long, it won't hurt to have him stick by until the end of it, right?

In some extreme cases, maybe one where the reader is desperately trying to leave the marriage or push back against anything that solidifies it, Sunday might even insist that you two consummate as fast as possible, regarding it as something necessary or even vital. He's so persistent about what he wants from you, like a dog begging and whimpering, that you're practically coerced into giving it to him.

He often poses himself on his knees to you, and stares so tenderly at you, you might crack. It hurts to not give him what he wants. There's times where begging words almost slip out of his mouth when he has to pull you closer. He wants your love so desperately it hurts.

[minswriting]

sex with hotch while he has the vest on 🤭 holding onto the straps on his side for dear life as he fucks into you 🤭🤭 he still has all of his clothes on but his pants are pulled down just enough for his cock because he couldn’t wait to fuck you 🤭🤭🤭

AHHHHHH you’ve got me fucked up thinking about this man. i’m also so tired so if this sucks im so sorry lol

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | no foreplay, unprotected sex, quickies

just thinking about how you guys would be getting back to the Bureau, still dressed in the bulletproof vests because you didn’t have any time to take them off. and aaron just looks so unbelievably attractive in a bulletproof vest, ESPECIALLY when he’s wearing just a polo underneath.

the adrenaline from the intense situation was still high in everyone as everyone walked inside, finally taking off their vests and such. except, when no one is looking, you drag aaron into the bathroom before he could take his vest off because you just desperately needed him right then and there. you locked the door behind you.

nothing was spoken between either of you. the adrenaline and desperation just encased the two of you as he pulled down his pants just enough for you to take his cock. and you took your pants off completely to allow aaron full access. “couldn’t wait until later, baby?” he’d murmur into your ear as he placed you onto the sink counter.

you shook your head no, wrapping your arms around aaron’s neck. “need you so bad,” you whispered back.

aaron hummed, grabbing his cock and lining it up to your pussy. he teased you slightly, running his cock along your slit. “how are you so wet?” he whispered, pressing kisses onto your neck.

“you’re so hot,” you whispered back, letting out a shaky breath when aaron lines himself up at your hole. and when he starts to ease himself into you, it took everything in your power to not moan as neither of you wanted to raise suspicion.

and when aaron is fully inside of you, he doesn’t hesitate to fuck you hard and fast. you guys were in the bathroom in a government owned building. there was no time to take things slowly like you usually did. your hands moved down to aaron’s vest, grabbing the straps that were on the side and gripping them as aaron slammed his hips into you.

you leaned forward to bury your head into his shoulder, trying to silent any noises that threatened to come out. only the tiniest of whimpers left your mouth as aaron’s cock fucked you thoroughly.

“fuck, you feel so good, princess,” aaron whispered, breathing heavily into your ear. you wrapped your legs around him, bringing him deeper into you.

you let out a small whine, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth. the desperation in aaron’s thrusts was so much. his cock hit your sweet spot with every move, making it so hard for you not to moan like a whore. “i-i’m so close,” you whispered, your breathing shaky.

“me too.”

it didn’t take long for either of you to cum. the pure neediness that you both felt overpowered anything else. you came so hard that you were scared that you hurt aaron’s cock with how hard you were clenching around him. but the small whimper he let out showed you that he loved the feeling as not even two seconds later, he was spilling his seed inside of you.

and with a small kiss to your lips, aaron pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants. the both of you took a minute to catch your breaths. “i’ll see you out there in a few minutes,” aaron whispered before kissing your lips once more. he unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, closing the door behind him.

you quickly grabbed your pants, pulling them back on. and after about five minutes, you walked out of the bathroom as well. aaron was in his office, already had taken the vest off, as if he didn’t just fuck you in the bathroom not even ten minutes ago.

which was alright because when you guys got home, you rode him on the couch, showing him just how needy you really were at seeing him in his bulletproof vest.