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goldsbitch · 18 days ago

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monaco kiss .wav

Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.

the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp

word count: 7k

warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"

PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one

If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.

The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.

To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.

But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.

"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.

"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."

Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"

Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.

"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."

"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.

Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"

"135-"

"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."

Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.

Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?

"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."

Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.

"Cig break?"

They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.

"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.

Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."

Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"

Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.

"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.

"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.

"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.

"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.

They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.

Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.

"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.

The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.

"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.

"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.

Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.

The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.

But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-

And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.

Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.

"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.

"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.

Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."

What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.

Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.

"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.

"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.

It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.

And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.

A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.

"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.

"Hi, my love."

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.

"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.

They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.

"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."

Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.

"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.

He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.

"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.

And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.

He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.

"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.

He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.

"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.

She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.

"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.

"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"

She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.

"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.

Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.

"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.

Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.

It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.

And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.

He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.

And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.

When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.

And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.

"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.

And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.

"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.

Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."

He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."

Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.

"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."

It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.

Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.

"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.

Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.

"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.

Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."

This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.

Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.

So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?

He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.

And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.

Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?

He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.

"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."

"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."

Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.

And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?

Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.

"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."

Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?

"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"

The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.

"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.

Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.

"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.

To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.

The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.

"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.

Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.

"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.

It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.

"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."

Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."

Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.

"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.

Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.

"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.

"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.

"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."

There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."

Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.

"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.

And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.

The room was small, light dimmed out.

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.

"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.

With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.

Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.

Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.

Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.

And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.

Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.

His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.

They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.

He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.

One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.

Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.

There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.

Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.

Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.

He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.

"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"

Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.

His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.

Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.

"what do you have in mind"

Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.

The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.

Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.

Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."

Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.

If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.

He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.

Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.

He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."

Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".

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writersdrug · 3 months ago

Text

I fully believe that Simon "Ghost" Riley wouldn't want an expensive, lavish honeymoon after your wedding. Of course, if that's what you dream of, he'll do it for you. He'd do anything for the person who loved him enough to marry him, scars and all. You want a beach-front, warm getaway in Costa Rica, filled with sunsets and quiet time by the waves? Say no more, he's looking for first class tickets already. You like the sound of a ski resort, surrounded by snowy alpines and hot chocolates, holding hands on the ski lifts and racing down the hills (you'd beat him every time, he's not one for winter sports)? He's asking if you'd prefer Smuggler's Notch in Vermont, or Vail Ski in Colorado. He'll do it if it's with you. He'll do anything for you.

But ask Simon what he wants, and he'll give you such a domestic answer: two or three weeks, somewhere in the United Kingdom, in a cottage backed up against the woods - preferably in autumn, when the leaves will be orange, the air will be misty, and the soft rain will be just enough to drown out his anxieties. Sure, he'd love to go hiking with you in Lake District, finding a good spot under the cover of the dense trees, listening to the sound of the babbling river and showing off his camping skills - harmlessly bickering with you about how it's not considered camping if you're in a cabin with electricity and running water. He rents an SUV and folds the seats down, throwing a mattress, blankets, and pillows in the back so the both of you can cuddle together while watching the stars.

But really, he just wants to exist with you for a while - as a married couple. He wants to wake up next to you without having anywhere to be at the ass crack of dawn, taking his time to watch the way you breathe so softly, the way you're always holding onto some part of him while you sleep, whether that's your arm wrapped around his bicep, your hand fisting his shirt, or your being wrapped tightly around his soul. He wants to cook meals with you, watch as you sway to whatever music you put on the telly, butt-bumping him as you chop vegetables and he stirs the pot on the stove. He wants to be next to you as you drag him around the rainy streets of Manchester, stepping into every bookstore or plant nursery you pass, eventually landing in a coffee shop and sitting close to each other, talking over a vanilla latte and a black coffee about how wainscoting is a gorgeous addition to homes, and how it's a crime that people tend to tear it down in modern decor. He promises to install some himself just for you, wherever you want it.

He wants to spend quiet nights at home, curled under the blanket on the couch, some random movie playing on the telly and the space heater blowing warm air on the both of you - he's too mesmerized at the way you're twirling the golden wedding band around your ring finger, biting back a smile every time you glance down at it (he has a wedding band too - but he'd never take it on missions. Instead, he has a simple line tattooed around his ring finger for when he has to leave the ring behind). He wants to make love to you, leaving soft kisses and nips along your skin, rolling his hips into you slowly and sensually, losing himself in the quiet moans, whispered I love you's, and the feeling of your nails carving the memory into the skin of his back. He wants to rest with himself inside of you, cradling you to his chest as he mumbles sleepily, "I love you, want to marry you every day of my life..." his rough hand tracing your skin, committing every bump, every curve, every vein to his memory. He wants to fall asleep there, letting go of his anxieties, any thoughts of doubt rolling off of his shoulders when he presses kisses to the back of your neck, his fingers slowly fiddling with the ring on your finger.

You're his quiet. His peace. You're soft sweaters, the sugar cube he drops into a warm mug of tea in his hands, the raindrops gently landing on his face, the smell of earth and pine at the edge of the woods, the sound of wood crackling in a warm fire. You're gentle, even when you're excited and bouncy, smothering him in kisses or forcing him to dance with you on the back patio. He knows you'll both have to leave this solace soon, returning to work like the wedding had never happened, forced to be cogs in the machine of society. But to Simon, each day after this will be a day he's married to you - each day will be a blessing, a reason to thank the universe, a reason to smile as he crosses the threshold of your shared home, a reason to crack his dad jokes outside of missions, a reason to join you on your weekly grocery runs, a reason to buy flowers once a week to replace the previous ones.

You're his peace.

#is there such a man as this?#ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod blurbs #ghost cod #ghost headcanons #cod x reader #call of duty

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readwritealldayallnight · 24 days ago

Note

reader who is flexible / does yoga x simon who gets really flustered watching it? 👀

During those first few months of living together as flatmates, having gone from strangers who happened to have a friend in common to sharing a bedroom wall within 24 hours, you both learned a lot about each other

On your end, you learned that his presence in the flat was a rarity, gone for days if not weeks at a time before coming home. Even then, he usually was only back for short periods of time, most of it spent sleeping

You do discover that he’s an early riser however, much to your chagrin when the sound of his routine post workout shower wakes you up before the sun has ever risen

You learn that he’s a decent enough cook, but will always insist on helping in some way if he finds you in the kitchen working on something, no matter how simple or complicated the dish is

Over time you even find out how he prefers his tea in the morning and when you get the chance, try and surprise him with a warm drink waiting for him after his shower

When you know that he prefers to keep the flat a little cooler than you usually have it, you’ll turn the thermometer down a degree just before he comes home, just as he’s gotten into the habit of turning it back up for you on his way out, the gesture going unspoken between the two of you

Simon also learns a lot about you in the time since you’ve moved in

He learns all about your taste in music, a melody never not playing in the background of whichever room you’re occupying, often telling him the name of a song or artist you can tell he likes from the way his foot will tap or fingers will drum against his thigh

He discovers you’re a bit of a night owl, often hearing you in the kitchen baking some dessert or another at midnight, or talking on the phone with a friend. He never minds though. In one case he wakes up to sweet treats in the morning, and the other he gets to overhear your even sweeter voice chirping and giggling. And if one time a smile of his own graces his lips when he hears you telling your friend how you’re loving the new flat, and your flatmate “isn’t so bad on the eyes either”, then who’s complaining?

He finds out what your favourite take out food is, often surprising you with something on his return home, definitely not blushing under the mask if it earns him a hug or peck on the cheek as thanks

But one thing Simon learns about you early on, something that he thinks about not just at home but on base, in briefings, on missions, on helis and jets and trucks, is how part of your daily routine, is doing fucking yoga in the living room.

He’s been in countless situations most civilians could never even dream up, let alone withstand, and Simon under the mask that is Ghost always stays as cool and collected as any seasoned vet would

But seeing you in sweatpants, or leggings, or even worse when you’re wearing those shorts of yours, strolling into the living room with your yoga mat tucked under your arm, his pants instantly tighten every single time, knowing what’s to come (or rather who’s to c-)

Following along to your instructional video playing on the telly, paying him no mind as he sits in the adjoining kitchen as you bend into position after position, simply doing your nightly routine as you have for years now, unknowingly putting your flatmate through a torture he’s never endured before

Every time he’s lucky enough to witness you stretching your limbs, contorting your body into poses he couldn’t fathom doing himself, he finds his dreams that night filled with the very same images of you, though wearing far less clothing, and in his bed instead of a yoga mat, though he would take you anywhere let’s be honest

He always waits for you to finish your routine, be it a quick 15 minute stretch or a nearly hour long session, he remains and watches you until you leave, before he dares to stand with his arousal on full display through his pants, rushing to his room or bathroom to take care of business

He learns that he’s never felt more intense pleasure at his own hand than when he thinks of you, when he has has your face and body freshly imprinted on his mind as he finishes, imagining the heaven that it must be to have the real thing rather than his calloused fist

It’s interesting you see

You really like Simon, and you like when he’s home, like getting to know him and spend more time with him

And if you happen to learn that when you do your yoga routine out where he can see you, that he suddenly spends a lot more time in the flat than on base, coming home more and more often, no matter how short his stay is… well, who’s complaining?

#and they were roommates #asks #anon ask #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod fanfic #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #readwritealldayallnight #simon ghost riley x you #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #ghost x you

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months ago

Text

Forgetful Flirtation - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Summary: A heavy celebration leads to a husband forgetting his wife. And a team who won't let him forget it.

Warnings: Fluff. Swearing. Slight age gap.

Requested: Yes by anon.

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, valterribottas and others

mercedesamgf1 LEWIS HAMILTON WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX 🇬🇧

13,331 comments

totowolff you did us proud. you deserved this, lewis. enjoy

landonorris congrats mate

yn_wolff oh, lewis, what an amazing drive. well deserved. i’m so happy for you

→ mercedesamgf1 we can confirm that she cried

→ lewishamilton 🫶🏾

pierregasly congrats champ!

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad’s

→ yn_wolff it was the luck of roscoe in the garage. maybe we should have him every weekend

→ mercedesamgf1 we agree

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate 🍾 i’ll buy you a round later

→ user1 are they going out together later?

→ user2 wouldn’t surprise me if the whole team celebrated this win

yn_wolff just posted

liked by iamrebeccad, carmenmmundt and others

yn_wolff team dinner to celebrate hubby’s, and especially lewis’, success

3,644 comments

totowolff meine schöne frau

→ yn_wolff i love you

francisca.cgomes oh okay so we’re dressing hot tonight?

→ yn_wolff i know you’re complimenting me but don’t make it sound like we didn’t compare outfits for tonight. you even know what kind of underwear i’m wearing!

→ francisca.cgomes i enjoyed those pictures

→ pierregasly pardon?

→ user3 yn is such a girl’s girl

user4 that hand placement though 🤤

→ user5 she’s really not good for toto’s reputation

→ user6 she’s making it look like he’s groping her

→ user7 can you blame him? look at her. she’s hot liked by yn_wolff

user8 um, anyone else find it really unprofessional that she’s publicly admitting to sending images of her underwear to people?

→ francisca.cgomes one person, and i’m her friend?

→ user8 it just reflects badly on her husband who has an image to maintain

→ totowolff no, it doesn’t. she is her own person

user9 unlike you crying bitches, i love that toto is married to someone slightly younger so that we get this content

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Weaving through the throng of bodies, you scowled as you dodged another couple gyrating against each other near the entrance to the VIP section. Your glass was empty and your shoes kept sticking to the floor, tacky from a cocktail of spilled drinks. Scanning the crowd, you scowled as you made your way over to the bar. How was it possible to lose a 6’5 billionaire in a crowd of shorter drivers?

Gesturing wildly to a crowd of people, the man of the day caught your eye and you hurried over to him.

“Lewis, have you seen Toto anywhere? I can’t find him.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Last I saw, he was with Bono asking the DJ to play 80s music,” laughed Lewis, recalling the image of his team principal and engineer swaying together, a feather boa draped across the pair of them.

You thanked him before turning and continuing on your crusade. All around you, familiar faces were wrapped around their partner’s (or women they had just met), dancing to the music or whispering in their ears. Alcohol had been flowing freely for the past three hours and the majority of the people in the club were more than inebriated. The hours had passed and you were ready for a warm shower and for your husband to tuck you into bed. Yet, he had decided to elude you.

Toto’s dress shirt hung loosely off your frame, having been draped around you earlier whilst you stood outside for some fresh air. You had simply rubbed a hand down your arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps that appeared, and there he was, bundling you up. That had been an hour ago and you hadn’t seen him since. Inhaling deeply, his scent surrounded you. The only comfort you had as you began to wonder whether he’d left you here in his drunken state.

Lando was up on the platform flapping his arms in a dramatic manner and messing around with the decks, directing you to where you thought you’d spotted a tall figure shrouded in the shadows.

“Yn!” Bono greeted, beaming at you through the pink feathers enveloping his face.

“Having a good night, Bono?” You asked, smiling at the sight of him. “Toto, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Well, hello there,” your husband drawled, peering down at you with a heated gaze. “Come here often?”

“What?” You laughed, leaning closer to hear him over the music. Surely you had misheard.

“I would’ve remembered seeing a woman as beautiful as you before.”

Beside you, Bono was shaking with silent laughter, gesturing wildly at someone in the distance. Probably summoning more people to bear witness to the peculiarity happening before you. Sidling up to him, you wrapped a hand around his bicep under the guise of stabilising yourself. You felt the muscle under your hand flex.

“Careful, Mr Wolff. If you keep being nice to me, I might have to take you home.”

His arms wrapped around your lower back, pulling you close against him. A heart stopping smile filled his face. “I don’t think I’d object to that. I would, however, like your name first.”

“Is he being serious?” Somebody whispered behind you, earning a wave of raucous laughter from the Mercedes team that had gathered.

“You smell nice.” Toto continued, nose nuzzling into the ticklish spot under your ear. You arched against his touch. He may not remember your marriage certificate but he clearly knew where best to tease you.

Running your fingers down his arm, you grabbed his left hand, tracing circles across the back of it. His wedding ring - part of a matching set - glistened in the strobe lighting. Fiddling with his fingers, you raised your hand up to your face, pulling it into his periphery. You twisted the band around his finger, letting it catch the light and his eye.

“I’m sorry but I don’t date married men.”

You dropped your husband’s hand, sliding out from his hold. Turning away from him, you snaked through the crowd and away from him. Dazed, Toto looked at his left hand in bewilderment. He slid the band off his finger, looking at the date engraved inside. Opposite him, his team continued to cackle at his misfortune. He was in so much trouble tomorrow.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_wolff added to her story

liked by mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomes and others

georgerussell63 replied to slide 2 at least he remembers you there → yn_wolff you keep teasing him about that and you might seriously find yourself without a seat next season → georgerussell63 don’t say that. i know you’d protect me → yn_wolff don’t push your luck → i’ll see you for dinner on thursday though? → georgerussell63 wouldn’t miss it

francisca.cgomes replied to slide 3 how are you awake enough to do all that? → i feel like i’ve died. pierre keeps bringing me cups of tea but i can’t even lift my head to drink them → yn_wolff tbf, kiks, you drank far more than i did 😂 → plus toto has been doing everything for me despite looking like death himself → i think he feels bad for forgetting i was his wife → francisca.cgomes at least you know even drunk you’re the only woman he wants?

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and others

mercedesamgf1 the silver arrows know how to party

4,463 comments

georgerussell63 yeah and our team principal knows how to forget his wife

→ totowolff george, would you like to stay with mercedes next season?

→ yn_wolff don’t threaten your drivers online, dear

→ georgerussell63 i’m only speaking the truth

→ user10 george, you don’t look like you were in any state to remember things either

yn_wolff can somebody blow that photo up and print it off for me. i think i need it in my bedroom

→ user11 you get to go home with the real thing, leave the photo for us

→ yn_wolff i almost didn’t

→ totowolff not you as well, liebling

→ user12 what does this mean?

lewishamilton hell of a party

pierregasly maybe don’t let your team principal join next time

alex_albon happy wife happy life probably isn’t working for toto right now

maxverstappen1 i think we should get toto drunk before race weekends, maybe he’ll forget his strategies

→ user13 what does this mean? let us innnnn

totowolff i’ll be speaking to all your team principals tomorrow about your behaviour

→ charles_leclerc yes, dad

→ landonorris oh, no. now we’ve done it

→ georgerussell63 who do you talk to about mine?

yn_wolff you forgot your wife, mein herz, i don’t think your scary boss act is going to work today

→ user14 he did what?!

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Requests open for smau's

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

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simpjaes · 9 months ago

Text

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it.

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ― first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package.

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he.

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him.

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes. So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret.

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up.

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts.

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him.

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his.

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk.

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…”

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you.

“Probably? no, maybe?”

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it.

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time.

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?”

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn.

The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue?

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing.

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall.

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.”

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself.

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod.

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you.

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him?

Hottest thing ever. Really.

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t.

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard.

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it.

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils.

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.”

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him. All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him.

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good.

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips.

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.”

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are.

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity.

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan.

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.”

You still laugh, and it still hurts.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut

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traveler-at-heart · 2 months ago

Text

Good Luck Babe

Summary: Wanda's boyfriend is the biggest asshole you've ever met. You think she'll choose you in the end.

Wanda Romanoff x F!R, eventual Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Don't be fooled by the summary, this is a Natasha Romanoff x R fic

Classes can be a drag. Especially the early mornings, where not even a cup of coffee can make you focus.

And then, there’s Wanda Maximoff, looking at the professor as she speaks, diligently taking notes while looking perfect, as usual.

She catches you staring and you have to look away, pretending that you weren’t just wondering how she manages to look effortlessly beautiful.

Class is dismissed and you take a minute to pack your things, preparing for the next session. You try not to roll your eyes as you find Wanda with her idiot boyfriend right at the door. As usual, they take up too much space, and you have to push one of them aside.

“Coming through, princess”

You don’t have to look back to know Wanda glares at you, annoyed at the nickname.

To be fair, the first time you used it you thought you were both involved in playful banter. Hell, you even meant it to be flirty, but she took great offense in it, which was the case with most things you did, whether they were aimed at her or not.

It was pretty clear she hated your guts. You just didn’t know why.

——

“I don’t know what her problem is” Wanda says, the music loudly booming across the house.

“What?” Jarvis says, leaning forward because he didn’t hear a word Wanda said. Partly due to the loud music and also because he’s looking at other girls, albeit discreetly.

“Y/N. She’s always being a total ass” the girl says, watching as you enter the house, avoiding her stare.

“She’s just jealous because you’re so pretty” he says and that’s enough to distract Wanda.

Across the room, you curse under your breath at the sight of the Maximoff girl. God, you hate her stupid boyfriend. Always runnig his mouth to his friends about Wanda, telling them private things… you’d overheard them at a bar once and it took every ounce of your being not to kill him right then and there.

Not to mention, the rumoured affairs that everyone knew about. Everyone, but Wanda, that is.

“You made it!” Carol greets you, and then follows your gaze. “Ugh, that guy’s the worst”

“Agree” you nod, turning to look at her. “Shots?”

“Hell, yeah” your friend says, taking you to the kitchen where Val is pouring some alcohol.

To your relief, you get to avoid Wanda for the entirety of the night, and as your friends arrive you quickly forget what had soured your mood in the first place.

Wanda, on the other hand, is not having such a great time. At some point while she was chatting with Pepper, she lost sight of Jarvis and can’t seem to find him anywhere. Knowing Stark could get crazy ideas, she worries that they might be doing something reckless so she goes around the house, looking for her boyfriend.

She’s expecting everything but seeing him with his pants around his ankles while a girl Wanda doesn’t even know gives him head.

“Wanda!” Jarvis shouts, startled.

“That’s not my name” the girl says, smiling playfully. “Or are we role playing?”

“I need to get out of here” Wanda says, closing the door.

Of course, he chases her down the hall, desperately sayig any excuse he can think of. Wanda tries to walk past him, but he blocks her from going downstairs.

“Don’t be so uptight about it” he loses his patience when Wanda refuses his apology. “Guys just need to do it more than girls, it meant nothing”

“You’re an ass” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Wanda, don’t leave” he warns, as she finally walks around him to go to the first floor. The shouting makes some people turn around, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the commotion.

You’re standing next to Val and Darcy, unable to look away as the oh so happy couple keeps shouting at each other.

“Guess he got caught red handed this time” Darcy mutters. She and Wanda were friends but had a fallout and you suspected it had to do with Jarvis and his side pieces.

“Let go of me” Wanda insists when he takes her arm, pulling her close to him.

“People are staring, shut your fucking mouth”

“You’re hurting me” she protests, trying to losen his grip.

Maybe it’s the way she says it, so defeated or even scared, but those words make you snap, and you walk up to them, pushing Jarvis away.

“Stay out of it” he warns.

“Make me”

You are expecting the first punch so you dodge it in time, but he manages to land another one on your mouth, and you feel the taste of blood.

“You’re gonna regret this” you say, launching yourself forward until you knock him over, landing on a coffee table that breaks. Grabbing him by the shirt, you land two punches and go for a third one when he kicks you, making you gasp for air.

“That’s enough” Thor steps in, his brother looking delighted at the chaos. “You better leave”

Jarvis glares at him, but truth be told, Thor doesn’t like him and he is your friend. He leaves the Odinson house, cursing under his breath.

“I’m fine” you tell your friends as they bring over ice to put on your cheek.

“Want us to take you home?” Carol offers.

“It’s good” you say, shaking your head. “I should go, take some painkillers”

“Call us if you need anything”

“Ok” you pat Darcy’s back, leaving the house where everyone’s partying like nothing even happened.

As you walk to your car, you spot Wanda, sitting on the sidewalk, wiping away the tears that roll down her cheeks.

“You ok?” you ask, standing next to her.

“He’s an idiot. No, I’m the idiot for being with him” she rambles.

There’s a very sarcastic comment at the tip of yout tongue but you save it.

“Did he drove you here?” Wanda nods and you jiggle the car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm”

“I don’t want to be alone” Wanda hugs her knees, and in spite of everything, your heart aches for her.

“Any friends that can take you in for the night?” she shakes her head no and you sigh. “Wanna stay at my place?”

“Are you sure it’s ok?”

“Yeah, come on” you say, walking to the car. You drive in silence, eager to get home and put some more ice on the punch.

Wanda gets out of the car and follows you to the dorm you share with Carol, who usually stays with Val most nights.

“Take the bed” you say, handing over some clean clothes so she can change.

Wanda looks at you, and you feel uncomfortable at the intensity of her gaze.

“I… thank you, Y/N”

“Sleep tight, princess” you say with a smile and for the first time she doesn’t look upset as you call her that.

——

The smell of bacon and butter wakes you up and you stretch, trying to remember why you’re in the couch.

When you see Wanda in your kitchen, everyhing that happened comes back and you groan, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

“Ouch” you say when you rub close to the punch on your cheek.

“You’re up” Wanda says, smiling. It’s a strange sight, as she’s used to glaring at you or just ignoring your presence.

“You sleep ok?” you say, trying to hide your blush when you notice she’s still wearing the clothes you let her borrow.

“Yeah, thanks” she nods, pulling up two plates with pancakes. “I wanted to thank you for everythig you did last night”

“No need” you say, grabbing a fork and eating. Wanda’s just being nice and you honestly don’t want to force her to interact with you, so all you want is to finish your food and give her an out so she can leave.

“He’s been texting me” Wanda says, looking at her food but not eating anything. “Saying it was a mistake, a one time thing and that it would never happen again”

“And you believe him?” you try to control your tone.

“I’d heard the rumors… even from Darcy. You probably know already”

“We assumed that’s why you fought, but she told us it was none of our business. And I know this isn’t none of mine, but you deserve better”

Wanda giggles at that and you look at her, intrigued.

“I’m just… I thought you didn’t like me”

“Where’d you get that?”

“The nickname, your constant glares across the room…”

Oh, shit. Here you were thinking you were obvious about your crush, and Wanda thinks you hate her.

“I hate… Jarvis. I knew he was a dick so I always disliked him. Seeing him with you. Yeah”

“Do you like me?” Wanda asks and you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders.

The girl smiles, finishing her food. You stay in the kitchen, fidgeting with your fork until she comes back, changed into her own clothes.

“I should get back. Do you need anything? Painkillers, ice?” she leans forward, her hand touching your bruise gently. Then, you notice her eyes drifting to your lips.

“I’m fine” you say and she nods, stepping back.

“See you in class?”

“Yes” you say, smiling as she waves goodbye. Carol walks in ten seconds later, looking behind her.

“Was that…?”

“Yes”

“Did you…?”

“No” you cut her off. “She just didn’t want to be alone after what happened”

“Y/N…” Carol says in that tone you dislike so much. You’re about to get scolded over something that isn’t that big of a deal.

“Carol, come on. She slept in my room, I stayed on the couch. That’s it”

“I just don’t want to see you getting hurt” your friend says and you nod. “I mean, you got a split lip and a black eye already so maybe it’s a little late for that”

“Yeah, that’s true. Come on, there are some pancakes left”

——

You tell yourself it means nothing. Wanda sits next to you during class, and offers a second scone she got from the cafeteria.

“How’s the eye?”

“I’m not blind” you shrug your shoulders. “Jarvis hits like a little bitch”

Wanda snorts at that, and you can’t hold back your own laugh. That attracts the attention of Professor Harkness, who focuses on your eye.

“Do I even want to to know, Y/L/N?”

“Nah” you shake your head and she rolls her eyes.

“Alright”

With that, the lesson begins. You try hard to focus, but Wanda smells really nice and you’re only human. At one point, she shuffles in her seat, her leg coming in contact with yours and you give up on taking notes.

“You ok?” to your surprise, Wanda follows you out of the classroom. “I can let you borrow my notes, if you want”

“Wanda” you stop abruptly, sighing. “Listen, you don’t owe me anything. I helped because it was the right thing to do. So don’t worry about paying me back in any way”

“That’s not… ” she stutters, fixing her hair. “I don’t really have any friends. I was always with him”

“Oh” you feel like an idiot. “Well, ok. I could use those notes”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll trade them for a coffee” you smile, walking next to her to the library.

—

It surprises you, how much you and Wanda have in common. She likes sitcoms and though you’re more of a Friends kind of girl, it’s fun to watch those old shows where they dance and sing from time to time.

“I only know Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins” you confess one time, which prompts Wanda to invite you to her dorm for a marathon.

“Where are you going?” Darcy says when you walk past her and Carol that evening.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun” Carol smiles and you glare at your friend.

“Well, Wanda and I…”

“Oh, my God! You traitor. Brutus!” Darcy shouts, throwing a napkin at you. “She’s the worst”

“I wouldn’t know. You didn’t tell me what happened”

“She got you there” Carol points out, eating popcorn while she enjoys the show.

“That is besides the point”

“Look, I’m not putting Wanda on my will or anything, we’re just hanging out. And if she mentions you, I’ll be the first one to defend you”

Darcy sighs, chewing on her lip.

“It’s not about me. Wanda has the habit of just… using people when she’s bored or on a break from that idiot. And then they get back together and forgets about you. Which sucks. I wouldn’t want it to be the case for you, that’s all”

“I’ll be careful” you promise.

Once at Wanda’s, you’re trying to enjoy the show, but Darcy’s words are echoing in your head. You had to admit that if you spent more time with Wanda, you’d probably develop an even bigger crush. And if she went back to that asshole, it would hurt you.

Was it really worth it?

“Is the show boring? We can watch something else. I know it’s weird that I like this” Wanda pauses mid episode.

“No, it’s just… Darcy said some things…”

“Oh. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to hang out anymore” she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it would be good if you fix things with her? Say sorry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it”

“I can try, but you know her. She won’t make it easy” you both laugh at that. “Is that all?”

“Yeah” you lie. “Come on, let’s keep watching. I wanna know if Rob goes to Ritchie’s play”

Wanda smiles, this time moving closer to you. Her head rests on your shoulder, relaxing against you. It’s so intoxicating, to have her so close, to feel her warmth.

And all you can think over and over again is “please don’t break my heart”. But you can’t ask for the impossible.

—

You’re really not expecting Wanda to take your suggestion at heart, but one day you see her speaking with Darcy in the hallway, your friend pretending to not be interested in the conversation at all.

The only sign that she actually forgives Wanda is when you’re sitting with the girl at the cafeteria and Darcy sits next to you, carrying a tray.

“This is the only seat that I could find” she mutters unconvincingly, making you and Wanda smile.

Though you spent most of the time in each other’s dorms, watching movies or shows. You learn that Jarvis was the one that dragged Wanda to all those parties and anytime you invite her to one she politely declines.

Now, you’re staying in while the rest of your friends are at the Odinson mansion. You don’t know if they’re allergies or a mild cold, but you’ve been feeling sick all day and wanted to rest.

“Coming” you groan when someone knocks. You open the door to find Wanda on the other side. “You’ll get sick, what are you doing here?”

“I made you soup”

“Thanks” you take the container, and you gotta admit the idea of warm soup makes your mouth water. “I’d say do you want to come in, but I really do worry this might be contagious”

“I’ll be fine” she walks inside, finding her usual place in the couch and patting the spot next to her. “Come on. We’ll even watch that boring show you like”

“The Office is not boring!” you huff, making her laugh.

A couple of episodes later, and you feel your eyes slowly closing, a side effect from the medicine you took. Wanda notices, and makes you walk to your room.

As you lay in bed, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel Wanda sliding next to you, her hand on your forehead.

“Your fever is down”

“Mhm. Thanks to the magic soup”

“I’m staying, in case you need anything”

“Ok, baby” you nod, too sleepy to notice what you’re saying.

Wanda’s heart flutters at the term of endearment, and she watches you sleep peacefully, her mind racing with thoughts about what could this possibly mean to you both.

On the other hand, you don’t remember anything and are startled when you feel someone sleeping next to you.

“Wanda?” you say when you turn around, smiling at how cute she looks, all confused.

“I must have fallen asleep here. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks” you lay on your side, still smiling. Wanda is still thinking about the way you called her and it’s fairly obvious you don’t remember.

Still, she leans forward and you almost watch in slow motion as her lips meet yours in a short kiss.

“Why did you…”

“You make me feel… I don’t know. Safe. I’m sorry, if I crossed line. Maybe I should go…” she sits up and you follow suit, making her turn to you.

This second kiss is a bit more urgent and less delicate, but you hope it makes a point.

“Now I really hope that what I had wasn’t contagious”

Wanda laughs at that, her hand over yours.

——

The next few weeks you grow closer to Wanda. You spend most of the time at her place, watching sitcoms and more often than not, you end up making out on her bed, until you’re both out of breath.

She also enjoys teasing you endlessly, like that time she sat next to you in Agatha’s class and put her hand on your thigh. Your knee jolted forward, crashing against the table and making the professor glare at you.

This time, you’re supposed to be studying in your room, but you find that looking at Wanda as she goes over her notes is far more interesting.

“Stop” she says after a few minutes and you smile.

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re staring”

“Can you blame me?” you crawl behind her, placing small kisses down her neck. She sighs at the contact, leaning against your front.

“Are you doing this to get my notes?”

“Maybe” you laugh against her shoulder, making her turn until you’re kissing her, and she pushes you down on the bed, straddling your lap.

“You better work for them, then”

Next day, when you’re done with your test, the first thing you do is reach for Wanda’s hand. To your surprise, she flinches away, grabbing the strap of her bagpack.

“Did you do ok on the test?” she’s quick to ask, hoping you won’t push it too much.

“I think so, yeah”

“If you pass, I’d say you owe me for borrowing my notes” she smiles.

“Well, we could go out to the movies. Or dinner?” you suggest, your heart beating faster. It’s a thought that has been going through your mind recently.

Not that you don’t enjoy the kissing and sneaking around, but you’re eager to take Wanda out, find new places together, talk about something else other than classes and her old shows.

“I’m not sure I can make it” Wanda says, avoiding your eyes again.

This new rejection stings and you drop your shoulders, looking for an excuse to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. We have lots of stuff to do. I’ll catch you later” you say, walking faster and not waiting for Wanda’s reply.

The rest of the day is spent in your dorm, which isn’t unusual. The only difference is that you’re alone instead of enjoying Wanda’s company, and hiding from seeing her.

“Wanna go to Joe’s with us?” Carol offers. “To celebrate midterms are over”

“Sounds fun” you agree, because it’s been forever since you’ve been with your friends.

“You can invite your girl”

“She’s not my girl”

“Oh?” Carol tilts her head to the side, putting the pieces together. “So that’s why you only hang out in the dorms”

“What did you think we were doing?”

“Having sex like crazy”

No answer comes to you, because sex is something that hasn’t happened yet. Or maybe never, considering Wanda doesn’t want anything more.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants, Carol”

“Do you?” she asks gently. Your immediate response is a shrug of your shoulders, and it’s a lie, because you know exactly what you want. “Come on, it’s her loss then. Let’s just go out and have fun”

Meeting your friends does improve your mood and you’re happy you listened to Carol. You eat and play pool, until everyone gets restless and looks for something else to do.

“Heard Stark is having a party” Carol says, knowing he always gets the fancy booze.

“Pass” you’re the first one to speak.

“Why?”

“Isn’t he best friends with Jarvis?” Darcy says. “We don’t want to have another fight, do we?”

“Oh come on, there will be so many people he won’t even notice that you’re there!” Carol insists, and you can tell she’s gonna be stubborn and annoying until she gets what she wants.

So, you agree, but spend the whole time looking around, waiting for that jerk to pop out of nowhere and pick up a fight.

“I don’t think he’s here” Darcy says, patting your back. “Let’s just have some fun, then Val will drag Carol out of here and we can go home, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan” you nod.

For the next hour, you do enjoy the party and are even surprised when Tony seems happy to see you. To be fair, he is a lot nicer than most of his friends. You’re relaxed, dancing to the music and doing shots with Darcy and Val, almost forgetting why you were so sad in the first place.

That is, until you walk out of the living room to get another beer, but the place is so crowded you bump into a girl.

“Sorry, are you ok?” you say, turning to make sure she’s fine.

Your stomach drops when your eyes meet Wanda’s.

She calls for you, but the sound of her voice is drowned out by the music and the ringing in your ears. Jarvis says Wanda’s name, and you take advantage of the distraction to escape, pushing people out of the way.

When the fresh air hits you, the first thing you do is bend over the railing of the porch and throw up, coughing and wretching violently.

“It’s ok” Darcy comes out of nowhere, getting the hair out of your face.

“Shit” Val sobers up immediately. “Time to go home?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get a cab” Carol says, patting your back.

They think you’re wasted, but all you are is heartbroken. Wanda was with him, after everything you’ve been through.

The shame over being so naive makes you stay in your dorm for the entire day.

Wanda shows up the minute Carol leaves.

“You should go”

“Please let me explain”

“I don’t think that’s possible” you shake your head. You know it, deep down. She’ll never give you a place in her life.

“We’re just… friends. He wanted to talk, apologize”

“Wanda” you plead, hoping she’ll stop. But instead, she pushes past you, her hands in your face.

“I can’t lose you”

“Why would I stay?”

Wanda answers with a kiss, that is slow at first, and then borderline agressive. You’re pushing, then pulling, unsure of what you want from her, but she pulls your pants down, just enough for her hand to fit, moving past your underwear and circling your clit. Your nails dig into her shoulders, gasping and breathing as she enters roughly, her fingers moving fast and hard.

It’s not nice or affectionate, but a way to further claim you, ruin you, brand you. Now she’s reached and touched more of you, and you’ll never be able to erase it.

Your orgasm comes unexpectedly, and after the high, you come crashing down. All you feel is bitterness and guilt and anger. Wanda stays inside, biting your neck. The sting reminds you, you’re only gonna get pain out of this.

—

It becomes a vicious circle. Wanda is distant in public, because more often than not Jarvis is by her side. And then, she corners you in any spot she can find, kissing you and pressing her body against yours.

The more you let her in, the weaker you are and it’s nearly impossible to stay away. It will hurt if she leaves, and it hurts to be with her.

“I don’t know how to stay away” you confess to Carol one particularly hard night. Darcy was called to offer her support, and she provided that along with snacks. “You were right, Darcy”

“I didn’t want to be” she says, holding your hand. “You’re the only one who can put a stop to this. She’ll never stop looking for you”

You can’t see yourself doing that, but then you walk past her in the hallway, and you hear her saying those words to Jarvis.

“I love you”

You couldn’t even get her to hold your fucking hand.

Pushing past her, you walk away, hoping to find the nearest bathroom and lock yourself there. Lucky for you, Wanda doesn’t follow you.

There’s someone else waiting outside.

“Miss Y/L/N” Professor Harkness greets and you nod, looking at your feet and hoping she doesn’t notice your red eyes.

“Professor”

“You’re too advanced for my class. My wife has a spot in her lecture. New people to impress, most of them pHD students”

Her emphasis in the new makes you understand.

You won’t have to see Wanda in class.

“Ok. I’d like that”

“Keep your head high, kiddo” Agatha says, her hand on your chin. “And don’t tell any of this to Rio or she’ll accuse me of going soft”

“Yes, Professor Harkness. Thank you”

“Mhm” she nods, giving her signature smirk and turning around.

One less place where you’ll have to see Wanda.

Soon after that, you change everything about your routine. Where you eat, study, even go out for runs. Hell, you change your phone number and Darcy is kind enough to let you stay with her for a while. That, and the Thanksgiving break are enough to give you three weeks of space.

It hurts and more than once you have to stop yourself from looking for Wanda. But what’s the point of being a secret? The longer it goes on, the more it will hurt.

Still, there are days when anger weights heavier than sadness. You’re mad at yourself, for being so stupid. At Wanda, because she was a coward and a liar. And those times, you get restless and go out to run, listening to music until you reach a hidden lake. It’s one of the few places you can be at peace, because you found it after Wanda broke your heart. So, there’s no ghost of her here, only you and your conflicting emotions.

Throwing stones at the lake is a way to pass time, and you’re doing exactly that when you hear rustling behind you.

“Sorry” a raspy voice says. Your eyes meet green ones, but these are softer, almost shy. The girl has beautiful red hair, braided with a few strands lose. She misinterprets your silence, and quickly retreats. “I’ll find another spot”

“That’s ok. I can… I can go”

“No, you don’t have to” she’s quick to reassure.

“Well, we can always share” you propose, smiling. The girl nods, and places her bagpack next to a log. She pulls out a book, and begins reading. You continue throwing rocks, stealing glances here and there.

“Is the book any good?” you finally ask.

“Depends”

“On what?”

“On your fascination with social expectations in Russian society during the 19th century”

“Pass. Got anything lighter?” you joke. To your surprise, the girl pulls out another book.

“How about the perils of indulging in romantic fantasies?”

“I know those very well” you say, grimacing. She puts the book down, smiling at you. You try to smile back, but turn your attention back to the lake until you’re able to calm down.

“Lit major?” you guess, pointing at the spot next to her. She moves her bag, allowing you to sit.

“Yeah. You?”

“Anthropology. Minor in Art History. I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other in the building”

“I'm a grad student, so I’m usually at the library” the girl says.

“No parties?”

“No one ever invites me” she shakes her head.

“I’d invite you” you blurt out, finding her blush adorable. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward”

“It’s not… you’re fine”

“So. Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary. Are you trying to find out if Tolstoy really wrote his book with Flaubert’s in mind?”

The girl gives you an appreciative smile, nodding.

“Yeah, but it’s more about how men in 19th century wrote about women. Even in two different societies, the protagonists are punished for following their desires”

“No one should be punished for that” you say, looking at her. She averts her eyes, holding back a smile.

“Why Anthropology?” she changes the subject.

“Because. We’re the same and we’re not, even thousand of years apart. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“How so?”

“Do you think you have anything in common with someone who lived thirty thousand years ago?”

“We need food to survive. Sleep, water, oxygen” she lists, and you nod.

“Mhm. All basic needs. Next question, did you make a drawing of your hand when you were a kid?”

“Everyone did” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Because it was my hand and no one else’s”

“And people thirty thousand years ago thought the same thing. And left their handprint in a cave in Southern France. Isn’t that something wonderful?”

She stays silent for a second and then smiles.

“I suppose it is, yes. To have an impact, so long after you’re gone too”

“You get it” you nod. “I’m Y/N, by the way”

“Natasha” she says, smiling at you.

The next few days, you catch yourself thinking about Natasha, and even with all the distractions, your mind goes back to her. It takes every ounce of self control to not wait everyday by the lake. Why would you want to get hurt, when you just started healing?

Love never ends well for Anna Karenina, Emma Bovary or yourself.

And yet… three days later you’re by the lake, holding a book of your own collection and an extra scone. You’re about to give up when Natasha shows up, and she seems as eager as you.

“Hey”

“Hi” she answers, a smile on her face. “Am I interrupting lunch?”

“This is for you. I mean, I was hoping I’d see you here” you stutter, looking everywhere but Natasha’s eyes.

“I was hoping to see you too” she confesses. It takes you by surprise, so she grabs the scone and the book as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Emily Dickinson” she reads. “Enjoying it?”

“You can borrow it if you want. I mean, yes I enjoyed it when I read it. But I just thought, you might like a change from male authors”

“Thank you” she nods, holding it close to her. “I actually have to go…”

“Oh, right” you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

“Can I have your number?” Natasha blurts out, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. “To give you your book back”

You smile, handing over your phone.

“I recently changed my number and I haven’t memorized it yet. So give me yours”

“Ok” she says. As soon as the device is back in your hands, you send her a text.

“See? Now I’m sure I gave you the right number”

“Talk to you soon. Thanks for the food”

When is it appropriate to text someone without looking desperate?

Either way, you can’t hold back your excitement as you walk to your dorm, jumping on Carol’s back as she’s eating her cereal.

“Are you mad?” she says, flakes and milk flying all over the counter.

“I’m just happy!”

“Why?” she glares, hoping you’re not back to your old ways.

“I spoke to a girl. And she gave me her phone number”

“Oh, my God! Y/N!” Carol shouts, the rest of her cereal thrown away as she dances around.

“What’s all the fuss?” Val says from the shower, concerned over the noise. Carol runs to the bathroom and opens the door wide.

“Y/N met a girl”

“Way to go!” Val joins the celebration and you’re about to say thank you when you notice she’s stepping out of the shower.

“Gah, bye”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want your new girlfriend to think you’re a pervert!”

“Shut up” you say, walking to your room and flipping her off without turning back.

The rest of your evening is spent studying, but also looking at your phone waiting for anything to come through.

As you’re getting ready to sleep, there’s a text.

Nat: I’m ready to give the book back.

Y/N: It’s been… seven hours?

Nat: I’m a fast reader.

Nat: Secret spot? Saturday morning.

Y/N: I’ll be there

—

It’s the first time you’re there so early. The light filters through the leaves, birds chirping as their day begins with the rays of sunshine.

The walk to the lake is lovely, and you spot a couple of small flowers as you find your way to the place. Deciding to get one for luck, you twirl it around in your fingers.

You sit by the log, looking at the fog over the surface of the water when you hear soft footsteps approaching.

“I was afraid you’d stood me up” you joke when Natasha sits next to you.

“And stole your book?”

“The book, I could get over” you admit, giving her the flower. Natasha smiles, her fingertips caressing the petals delicately.

Your eyes are focused on the curve of her lips and those beaufitul eyes.

“Well, I’m here” she says, smiling when your eyes meet hers. “Thank you, I enjoyed reading it”

You take the book, your hands touching briefly.

“There’s a problem, though”

“What is it?” you say, worried that something’s wrong.

“I gave the book back, but I still have to thank you for that scone”

“Oh” you laugh.

“So, what is your preferred payment method? Ice cream? Coffee?”

“It’s a little early for ice cream”

“Then we’ll get it later. I know just the place”

“Yeah. I’d like that”

Though there are no classes, Natasha still has to meet with her advisor, so you chat for an hour until she has to go back to uni, agreeing to meet at your dorm in the evening.

“Is this a date?” you ask your friends on the video call as they agree on what you should wear.

“Of course it is, you silly goose!” Carol says, her face occupying half of the screen. “Wear something hot!”

“No, something comfortable. It’s an ice cream date, not a club” Val argues, trying to get a glimpse of the options.

“Something comfortable AND hot”

As they keep arguing, you opt for a pair of jeans, a white cotton t-shirt and a light jacket.

“Gotta go” you say when someone knocks. After hanging up, you are surprised to check Natasha’s ten minutes early. Plus, you don’t remember giving her your exact room number, agreeing you’d come down and meet at the lobby.

You’re about to open the door when the voice on the other side makes you stop in your tracks.

“Y/N? Please. Open up. I need you”

Wanda.

That voice, those words, the feelings you’ve been trying so hard to push away and bury come back. But instead of hurting you, they make you angry. You’re about to go out with a wonderful girl, who seems geniuenly interested in you. And here comes Wanda, trying to stain that as well.

Without thinking twice, you climb out of the window, holding on to the emergency ladder. You look down, unsure of what to do when you reach the last step.

"What are you doing?" Natasha says, rushing to stand above you.

"Parkour?" you reply weakly. "Is it too high?"

"Don't worry, I'll catch you"

Trusting her, you jump. Truth to her word, she eases the fall as you land, but you drag her along with you as you stay on the floor.

“Are you hurt? Why did you do that?”

Her hands are running over every inch of your face, going down to your shoulders and arms. The worry in her eyes only makes your heart beat faster.

“My roomate accidentally locked me inside”

You figure it's better than saying "My situationship is outside my door and I wanted to avoid her"

“You could have told me, and I would have gone and find her” Natasha insists.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s get ice cream? I won’t ever do this again” you promise, holding her hand. The redhead rolls her eyes, but nods and leads you away from the building.

You make small talk, appreciating how her hand doesn’t leave yours as you get away from campus and to the walking district. You try to look discreetly behind you, hoping Wanda didn’t see you and followed you.

Natasha finds the store, opening the door for you.

“Rocky road, please” you give Natasha puppy eyes and she smiles, ordering strawberry ice cream for her.

“So, what’s your deal?” she asks as you leave the store.

“My deal? What do you mean?” you say, mouth full of ice cream. The girl wipes the corner of your mouth with her napkin.

“You mentioned parties. Are you some sort of wild girl looking for someone to charm every night?”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite the Casanova” you laugh. “No, come on. My friends are cool and we just like to have fun from time to time”

“So, not a player” she notes with a smile.

“I did get my heart broken, though”

“Fella done you wrong?”

“His girlfriend done me wrong” you correct, wishing you were talking about anything else. But truthfully, if you want things to work out, you better be honest. “She was with me, but only on her terms and as if I were a secret”

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that”

“I moved on. So, don’t think I’m just messing here, Nat. I really like you” you hurry to say, blushing slightly.

“I like you too” she takes your hand. “Now, let’s finish our ice cream so I can show you this awesome bookstore I found”

The next few hours are spent talking about college, some of your plans for the future and also, your friends. You smile when Natasha comments she’d love to hang out with them.

Before it gets dark, you walk back to campus. Worried that Wanda might still be at your door, you asked Darcy a while back to go check. Apparently, the coast was clear.

Natasha walks you to the door.

“I had the best time” you say, smiling. “We should do it again. Maybe go to the movies?”

“Would love to” Natasha nods, her eyes drifting to your lips. You lean forward, heart beating fast as you’re eager to feel her lips on yours.

“Are you still here? I told you to beat it!” Darcy opens the door, making you both jump back. “Oops, I thought you were someone else. Sorry, I’ll go back inside. Pretend this didn’t happen, make out”

“Darcy” you groan. Your friend doesn’t get inside, though.

“The famous Natasha. Y/N here won’t shut up about you”

“Shhh, don’t listen to her, she’s off her meds” you ask Nat, covering Darcy’s mouth and pushing her inside. As you close the door, you hold it so she can’t open it again.

Natasha laughs, her hands going to your hips and pulling you softly. You take a few steps forward, smiling as she lifts your chin, leaning to connect your lips in a slow kiss.

It’s mindblowingly good, although too short for your liking.

“So, when are we doing this again?”

“The date or the kiss?” she jokes and your hands go around her neck.

“Both”

“As soon as you’re free” she says, kissing you once more before leaving for the day.

Darcy snaps a picture the second you walk inside.

“That’s the gayest you’ve ever looked, congrats” she says, sending the picture to the group chat.

You roll your eyes, pulling out your phone and smiling.

Y/N: Best I’ve ever had

Nat: The kiss or the ice cream?

Y/N: What do you think?

Smiling at your phone, you walk to the couch where your friend is sitting.

“I’m happy that you’re happy” she says, relieved that you’re healing from everything that Wanda put you through.

“Me too” you sigh, pulling your knees against your chest. “Though I do have to ask. Did Wanda say why was she here?”

“I didn’t care enough to find out. All I did was tell her to leave you alone. And then I pretended you were inside so she wouldn’t go anywhere else looking for you”

“You’re a great friend” you nudge her with your foot and she glares.

“Ew, get that thing away from me”

“I take it back” you show her your tongue.

The next week, you text Natasha between classes, and though she’s very busy, she’s always making time to get back to you. You agree to go out on another date on Friday, but neither one can wait to see each other, so you end up at the library on a Wednesday evening, each one focused on your work.

Well, Natasha is focused on her work. You’re looking at her, because this is the first time you’ve seen her wearing glasses and it’s adorable.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Plenty” you say, not even pretending to be reading your notes.

“You’re not the only one who’s staring” Natasha’s eyebrow arches, speaking without looking up. “Brunette, green eyes, a lot of rings and eyeshadow”

“Oh”

“Is that the infamous ex?” she says and you’re scared she’ll be upset about this whole situation.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m sorry. If she’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll just leave…”

Natasha looks up at that, eyeing you up and down as you struggle to read her expression. She surprises you by pulling your chair until it bumps against hers, leaning forward and kissing you, one of her hands on your thigh and the other holding your chin, in that signature move that always makes your head spin.

“Maybe that’ll keep her away” Natasha says, smiling and bumping her nose against yours.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to focus on an essay” you say, biting your lip.

“Then let’s get something to eat. We need a break from all this studying” she proposes, picking up her things and leading you out of the library, her hand in yours.

You don’t care to look around for Wanda to check if she’s watching, because this moment with Natasha is yours. She’s holding your hand, kissing you, spending time with you whenever she can, instead of hiding you like you’re a dirty secret.

By being herself, she’s given you the one thing you always craved for. Something real.

Finally, Friday comes and you’re buzzing with excitement, getting ready to meet Natasha.

“Wanna go to a party tomorrow? You can invite your girlfriend” Val says, painting her nails while Carol throws a ball in the air.

“We haven’t had the talk about being each other girlfriends”

“What? And you call yourself a lesbian? This is the second date, you should be adopting a cat by now”

“Like you and Val with Goose?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sorry to disappoint the sapphics, I’m just trying to not scare her away. And about the party, yeah, if Natasha’s up for it, we’ll stop by”

“Alright, it’s at Stark’s”

“Oh. Maybe not, then”

Your friends share a look, and you glare as they both stay silent.

“You can’t avoid her forever” Val is the first one to speak. “She’s gonna keep looking for you, getting in the middle of what could be a good relationship just because she thinks she can”

“Yeah, next time you see her, don’t jump out the window. Open the door and tell her off” Carol agrees.

“You did what?” Val looks at you, baffled.

“It’s ok, Nat was there to catch me. Speaking of which” you hear a knock on the door, and stand up. “See ya, cat ladies”

“Hey! We only have the one”

You laugh as you open the door, but then you’re interrupted by Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Hey”

“Hello” she smiles, and then looks behind you as your friends whistle.

“Meet Val and Carol. My two former best friends” you grumble when they make kissing sounds.

“Nice to meet you” Natasha greets over your shoulder.

“Bring her home at a decent time” Carol says. “Unless you plan on having sex. In that case take her back to yours so she doesn’t wake me up”

“I hate you so much” you sigh, pulling Nat away.

“We’ll see you at the party tomorrow”

“Sorry about them” you mumble when you’re going down the stairs.

“What was that about a party?” she asks, opening the car door for you.

“Ever heard of Tony Stark? Big house, bigger ego. Loves to have parties. We don’t have to go unless you want to” you say, half expecting her to turn down the invitation.

“If you want me to go I’ll be there”

“I just want us to spend some time together, doing whatever you want” you say, blushing.

“I did promise I’d try going to a party with you, and it seems like the perfect time. Could meet the rest of your friends”

“Alright then” you nod, excited and terrified about how things could turn out if a certain someone is there.

Carol is right, though. You can’t be looking over your shoulder all the time, expecting Wanda to approach you and open those wounds.

If you have closure, in whatever way that is, she won’t have the power to hurt you anymore.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Natasha by your side, her hand clasped in yours over your leg. At one point, you lean against her shoulder and she kisses your temple.

She’s so perfect, it makes you dizzy.

“What did you think about the movie?” she asks as you go out of the theater, her arm around your waist.

“It was good. I’m glad I understood most of it without having watched those other Alien movies”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked a different one” she protests, pulling you to a stop.

“I just want to be with you. Plus you looked so excited to watch it, I had a hard time saying no”

“Is that so?” she arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t use that against me, Natasha” you warn, getting ready to argue but her lips silence you, and you moan against the kiss.

It’s not nearly enough, and you need more of her, not just kissing.

“So if I ask you to go back home with me, will you still have a hard time saying no?”

“On the second date? What do you think I am, a harlot?”

“I’d count the lake as a date of it’s own. And the library too”

“So, this is like the fourth one?” you say, counting with your fingers.

“You don’t have to, I was only…”

Natasha’s words are cut off by your lips on hers, and she holds back a moan of her own when you run your tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’d very much like to go back to your place”

The drive back is silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. There’s a certain tension, and the expectation of what is about to happen makes you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

“This is home” Natasha says, opening the door to her apartment. Of course, as a grad student, you expected her to have her own place, but you still admire how homey it feels. There are books everywhere, which makes sense, and pictures of Natasha’s family.

“It’s lovely” you say, turning back to look at her. The tour of the place is forgotten, as you watch Natasha approach you slowly, her hands dropping to your waist.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. A bit” you admit, because lying to Natasha has never been something you’d consider doing. “I want this to be perfect. And for you to really like it”

For me to be enough.

“It’s already perfect” she says, coming closer and kissing you slowly. Your eyes close as you enjoy the sensation of her lips against yours, hands wandering to your lower back. Without breaking the kiss, you discard your jacket and take hers off as well, and she immediately pulls you against her, your hands holding her cheeks as she deepens the kiss.

“Are we doing it standing up?” you ask when she breaks apart, breathing heavily against your neck. “Because I’ve never tried it, but I am open to experimenting”

“You could just say that we should take this to the bedroom” she laughs against your temple.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Still, she laughs as you pull her by the belt loop of her pants, guessing that her bedroom must be that last door to the left.

“Bingo” you smile, opening the door. There are more books scattered on the nightstand and the floor, but at least the bed is clear. “God, Nat, your reading is gonna kill me” you say as you fall to the bed and make her land on top of you.

“Sorry, I don’t have company very often”

“Are you a virgin?” you tease, knowing full well she’s dated in the past, though nothing serious.

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, her lips drifting down to your neck, and then lower to your stomach. In one swift motion, she unsclaps your bra and lifts your shirt up, her tongue swirling around a nipple. You moan, surprised at the contact, holding her head in place as she moves to the other nipple.

“Does it look like my first time?” Natasha says against your lips, her hands going down to undo the button of your jeans.

“I’m sorry, I was only joking, baby” you say, and it’s almost embarassing how desperate you sound.

“Good girl” she comments, pulling your pants down. You struggle with your underwear and Natasha’s too impatient, so she pulls it aside and starts eating you out, her tongue making circles and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you say, biting your hand to keep you from screaming. Natasha nudges your clit with her nose as she moves to go up and down and you’re close when she stops. “Why?”

“I want to be inside you”

It’s a mystery, how your brain doesn’t stop functioning at that, but you manage to discard your shirt and start to undress Natasha, eager to feel her skin against yours. Once you’re both naked, she flips you, so you’re on top of her, straddling her lap.

“I’m debating if it would be better to have my fingers or my strap buried in your pussy” she says, and you wonder how the girl who is so well spoken can manage to be so crass.

Not that you’re complaining.

“Anything you want” you say, aware that you’re rubbing your center against her thigh.

“What’s that?”

“I… please. Just use me” you plead, desperate for some release.

Those words do it for Natasha, who takes out a strap on from her nightstand. You protest when she stands up to fasten it around her hips, feeling like you’re gonna combust if she’s not touching you.

“Shh, I’m here” she soothes you, laying on top of you and rubbing the strap against your entrance.

“Fuck me, Nat” you squeeze your legs around her, hoping she stops teasing you.

“That’s the plan, baby. Tell me if it hurts?” Natasha asks as she begins to fill you up, and you’re too far gone to give a verbal confirmation, nodding instead.

“More” you insist when she stops, searching for any sign of discomfort. Natasha thrusts forward, sinking the entire shaft and you moan, arching your back. “Harder”

Truthfully, Natasha’s never been so adventurous or forward in her sex life, but the way you’re pleading, clenching and panting underneath her, wakes something entirely new inside her. Pushing your knees against your chest, she moves in and out, reaching new spots that make you see stars.

“Yes, yes, yes” is all you manage to say, holding on to the sheets as your knuckles turn white. “Nat, I’m gonna…”

The words are stuck in your mouth as a powerful orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless. You feel Natasha slowing down her movements, and then she goes to kiss your neck, the strap still buried inside you.

“That was…” you sigh, trying to make your brain work. As your breathing steadies, your muscles relax and you let a finger run up and down Natasha’s side. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the one with the big words”

“That was fucking hot” she says, making you laugh. “And I’m not done with you”

Good thing your schedule was clear for the next day, because you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

—

Your muscles feel sore when you wake up, stretching and turning in Natasha’s arms, watching her sleep.

Her alarm woke you up, but she’s still sound asleep.

“Nat” you say, moving her fiery hair out of her face. “Baby”

“No” she protests.

“Time to get up. You’re meeting your advisor, remember?”

Natasha curses under her breath, clearly not caring enough to wake up.

“Hey… what if I sit on your face?”

“I’m up” she says, opening her eyes and pulling you by the waist. “Come on, giddy up”

“Nuh-uh. Get dressed”

“Why would you lie about something like that?” she whines, burying her face in your neck.

“I didn’t lie, because technically, I didn’t say I’d do it right now. Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast and then we can go back to uni”

“Fine. But this discussion is not over” she kisses your cheeks, neck and then your lips, smiling as you laugh. “Morning”

“Morning, baby” you say, appreciating how beautiful she looks even with bed hair.

When she gets up, you find one of her t-shirts and go to the kitchen, looking at your options. You opt for french toast and make some coffee, because Natasha is definitely gonna need it to stay awake.

“Tastes amazing” she comments when you sit down to eat.

“Breakfast or me?” you tease and she almost chokes with her coffee. “Sorry, let’s eat”

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“Laundry, some homework. Standard stuff”

“Do you have any plans for lunch?” Natasha asks and you shake your head no. “Would you like to eat with me? After I’m done with my meeting and you finish your stuff, of course”

“Would love to” you say, smiling at how domestic and perfect it all feels.

Once you finish breakfast, you get changed and walk to Nat’s car. Parking close to your dorm, she kisses you goodbye and walks to the professor's offices.

You’re so distracted, thinking about everything that happened that you don’t notice Wanda sitting outside your dorm until you’re at the door.

“Wanda” you say, your hands in the pocket of your jeans. “Hey”

“Y/N? Did you just get here?” she says, looking around and then at the time on her phone. “You didn’t sleep here?”

“What do you want?”

“I want… to apologize”

You sigh, hoping the conversation ends soon so you don’t have to ever talk to her again.

“Anything else?”

“I thought he would change. He promised. But then it happened, again and again. And all I could think about is how you’d never do that to me”

“No, I wouldn’t. But now it’s too late. You made your choice”

“It was the wrong choice. Please, just give me another chance. I was scared before…”

“No, Wanda. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear it and we’re not gonna be anything at all. Natasha is… she’s amazing and I want to be with her. You had a choice to make and you went with him. And now… I have to choose the girl I’m in love with”

“Is there anything I can do or say…?”

“No. I’m sorry” you shake your head. Wanda nods, wiping away the tears. It does tug at your heart, seeing her so alone and broken. But it’s not on you to fix this.

Not anymore.

You let out a sigh when she leaves the hallway, turning in the other direction so she doesn’t see you wiping away a tear of your own.

Your eyes meet Natasha’s. She’s holding a bouquet, looking at you intensely.

“Nat. I can explain.”

The redhead drops the flowers and you’re scared she’ll walk away, but instead, she approaches you, lifting you as she kisses you. You sigh against her lips, holding on to her as if she’s the only thing in the world.

“I heard. Everything. You don’t have to explain anything” she puts you down, smiling. “I’m in love with you too”

“I don’t… know what to say” you laugh, craddling her face in your hands.

“No need to speak” she pulls you closer again, walking back until your're cornered against your door.

“I swear to God, if it’s that girl again I’m going to…” Carol opens the door without a warning, making you almost fall. “Awww, you guys! Val, come look! They’re kissing”

“With tongue?”

“I hate you so much” you complain, hiding your face in Natasha’s neck. She laughs, kissing your temple. “Now close the door so I can say goodbye to my girlfriend”

“Girlfriend? Val, they’re girlfriends!”

“Wohoo!” the girl screams from somewhere inside the apartment.

“Agh, it’s like having overbearing lesbian mothers” you slam the door shut, turning to Natasha. “I’m staying at your place tonight, or they will drive me insane with all their questions”

“Tonight, every night. Whatever you want. Just know… you’re getting very little sleep” she says with a smirk, kissing you.

“I can live with that”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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randomshyperson · 8 months ago

Text

My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.

Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k

A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing.

But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.

But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.

While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.

Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”

You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.

“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”

Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”

You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”

She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”

“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.

The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.

Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.

Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.

You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.

“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”

Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.

“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.

“No, I mean… you think that too right?”

You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”

She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:

“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”

You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.

-&-

Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.

It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.

You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.

Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw.

And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.

Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.

“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not.

You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”

The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.

You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”

Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.

“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.

“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”

You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”

You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”

She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”

You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.

-&-

Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.

The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.

“What?”

“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.

“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was.

“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”

“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.

Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you.

Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close.

Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.

The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.

Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.

“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second.

Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.

“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides.

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.

“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”

You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs.

Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.

When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”

She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.

It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.

Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.

You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.

"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."

She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.

"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."

Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.

But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.

An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.

Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.

She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.

"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.

It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.

You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.

The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.

She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.

In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.

Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.

"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.

For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.

You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.

"Hey, little witch."

She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."

Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."

She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fics #elizabeth olsen x reader #bottom!wanda #bottom!wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff smut

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

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Omg i love your Yandere serial killer with a split persona so much 😭😭, can you do more headcanon about him?? Like does he aware of his other persona seeing reader kinda scared to talk to him normally thank u

Yandere! Serial Killer Scenarios

Featuring the kind, quiet man who has no idea why you look at him with terror in your eyes. This time with an official character design!

Content: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror, dubious/non-consent

[Main Story] | [More original works]

You only attempted to escape once.

His frequent warnings had begun to wear off, and your mind dared to wander towards hope. One day, during his evening walk, you ran to your bedroom and pulled out a train ticket you'd hidden earlier inside a drawer. The small piece of paper weighed heavy in your hand. Come, now, you scolded yourself. It was weeks of careful planning: anticipating his schedule, erasing your tracks, preparing the essentials. You could already smell the worn leather seats, and hear the jarring whistle of departure. Then you'd be far away from this maniac, all but a terrible memory to be locked away.

There was no time for hesitation. You grabbed a small bag and sped towards the station, frequently looking over your shoulder, muttering silent prayers. Once you made it to your compartment, you exhaled in relief. A relief you hadn't felt in months, washing over your body and relaxing your tense muscles. You climbed the stairs, and searched for your seat. Has someone misread their ticket? You found your spot occupied by a stranger.

"What did I tell you about running away?" his deep voice echoed across the empty hall.

The walk back home was silent. You were convinced this was your end. You'd arrive at the house, and he'd cut you into pieces. Your lips curled in a horrified grimace, mind flooded with foreign feelings: your nails plucked apart with pliers, a burning sting after each detachment. The roots of your teeth grinding and screeching within the bone of your jaw, until all that's left is a fleshy, gaping wound. Plop, plop, as each little souvenir falls into the jar.

He slammed the door shut and stared you down. You looked at the floor, but all you could see were the grimy ID cards of all the women who never made it out of this damned house. You were next.

His large hand ruffled your hair, and you glanced up in disbelief.

"This stays between us. Mother better not hear that her soon-to-be daughter in law tried to run away. Especially now that she's warmed up to you. Are we clear?"

You nodded desperately. God, how pathetic of you. But being trapped was better than rotting underground like the rest of them. You just wanted to live.

You can always tell whether it's him, or him. It's the silence. Or lack of, for that matter. He likes the quietness, the muffled ticking of the clock, the busy rattling in the kitchen, your laughs, your chatter. You'll sit together and listen to the rain, or read your books across from each other. There's no need for words, you know you can be at peace.

He likes music. When you hear the record player, you know it's your cue to perform. You exit your room - it's better if he doesn't call you down himself - and descend to the main area. The stairs creak louder, the wallpaper begins to yellow. It's almost as if the house ages with the music, and you tumble back in time.

He's been waiting for you, naturally. How's a man meant to spend his evenings, if not with his adored wife? He'll reach out for your hand, and invite you to a slow dance. Those are the worst moments. The tight, suffocating hold, his deranged stare drilling into your very soul, the whispered promises: that you're forever his, and you'll never find happiness anywhere else. He knows it. It's the same for him, really. Everything he's ever needed lies within your embrace.

Some days, the charade doesn't last long. You simply won't be in the mood to be kissed, to be stripped naked and fondled by his murderous hands. So you'll just pout and gaze ahead. It angers him terribly.

"Wretched whore. Do I look like a beggar?"

He'll shove you aside and make his way out, taking his tools with him. He hates asking for your affection and would rather take his anger out somewhere else. You know he won't hurt you, or force himself on you, which means someone else will have to pay for your disrespect. And yet, it's the only freedom you have around him - the privilege of refusing him and living to see the next day. The rest aren't as lucky. You'd rather not think too deeply about it.

My honey, I know With the dawn that you will be gone But tonight, you belong to me Just to little old me.

What a bizarre thing, to harbor such hatred towards the one you love. You've never met anyone kinder. He's thoughtful, patient, caring. He knows everything about you and lives to serve you. He's your best friend and your lover. He's the one you want to marry one day. But he's also...well...him. And you can't have one without the other.

"No, Mother, it isn't tacky," he barks at the shattered mirror, adjusting your necklace. "And you know what? It's up to (Y/N) to decide if she wants to wear your wedding jewelry."

"It's nice", you respond curtly. You look into the empty reflection and nod. He likes it when you take his side in front of Mother.

"I knew you'd agree. We're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?" he smiles and zips up the old dress. You shiver: wearing a dead woman's gown was not part of your wedding plans. The corset is tightened, and you gasp. His hands are tense.

"I know he proposed to you. And what a stupid grin you had on your face when it happened! You never act like that around me."

He doesn't call me a bitch, for starters, you think to yourself. You shuffle on the bed, trying to loosen up the garment, but he swiftly pins you down onto the mattress.

"Not that it matters. Would you like to know why?" he inquires with a familiar glimmer of jealousy in his dilated pupils. "Because I'll always be your first. You know it, I know it. He never will.

At the end of the day, you belong to me."

To compete with oneself. Nonsense. Utter madness, all of it. The house; the drawer filled with gory trophies; the nightly talks with Mother dearest, whose bones have most likely turned to dust by now; the bloodied scalpels; the embrace of a man who fills you with warmth and terror.

You're part of it now.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere serial killer #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere art #doodle #my art #horror #obsessive love

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s1lly-c0r3 · 18 days ago

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Mouthwashing Headcanons !!

Cuddling - Curly, Jimmy, Daisuke, Anya, and Swansea (No assigned Gender for reader!!) `` This is for entertainment purposes only, reminder to be kind and feel free to request !! ``

CURLY ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Big on being big spoon, likes the feel of your head on his chest. Most likely wouldn't mind trying little spoon, but he's always gotta have his arms wrapped around you somehow.

Doesn't like any sound playing in the background, prefers to listen to you yap or the sound of you breathing. It comforts him to know you're safe.

Loves your hands in his hair.

Pampers you, but not in an obsession kind of way. He'll coat your face in kisses then chuckle at your reaction

Usually likes to cuddle in bed, PDA is not for him. He won't mind the couch, but he likes a lot of room.

Purrs, isn't aware of it and completely denies when you mention it at all.

Prefers to not touch you much when he's stressed, he's a sweet guy but he's scared he'll hurt you or vent to much. A kiss here and there won't hurt, but the second he calms down he's all over you again.

Titties

Cuddles a pillow when you're not around, not in a weird, gross kind of way, he just likes having his arms wrapped around something (and that something is you)

JIMMY ┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Isn't aware when he's little or big spoon but prefers to have his face shoved into your neck and his arms wrapped around you. Weather that's a big or little spoon; it's up to you.

His hands are always cold, they're usually up your shirt tracing your back or stomach. If not, then he's running them through your hair.

Boney as hell, not the most comfortable to lay on and he knows it.

Usually just falls asleep without changing, shoes and everything. But he sometimes tries to take at least one clothing item off.

Likes his scars or bones being traced but doesn't admit it.

He smiles a LOT while cuddling, usually he's already hiding his face in your neck and pampering you to hide the fact, but you've clearly noticed.

Goes for the bed, always. If you two manage to fall asleep on the couch, you'll wake up in the bed anyways

Wandering hands

A lot of teasing knows exactly how to make you react in the way he wants, and he'll use it to the best he can.

Falls asleep first.

DAISUKE · · ──꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ── · ·

Little AND big spoon likes having you comfortable either that be your head on his chest or his head on yours.

Can't handle too much teasing, but does like to blabber compliments while grinning stupidly

LOVES when you play with his hair, it keeps him calm.

Sleeper build Daisuke !!

Likes laying on your stomach, he always claims it's just too comfortable for him to resist but it's actually just because he likes waking up and seeing your face.

Will probably lick you, just for the bit

Loves cuddling ANYWHERE, cuddle on the couch, bed, bath, the car. Anywhere he can have skin on skin contact he's running towards it.

Always finds a way to hold your hand

Hates waking up every morning and having to leave you, complains the whole time. If he has to be up at 6 in the morning, you have to be up at 6 in the morning.

Comments on little things you do he finds cute to tease, but always ends up feeling bad or getting too flustered.

ANYA •☽──✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧──☾•

Preferably little spoon wouldn't mind letting you be it for the night but really prefers to just let you hold her.

Giggles a little too much, sometimes has to turn her head away if you compliment her to often or if she's being pampered.

Loves pampering you back though, your face is like a canvas for her lips.

Has a whole routine she does before cuddling, forces you to do it with her.

Loves the bed, hates the couch and refuses to ever sleep there.

Plays some sort of soft music in the background, she's mainly listening to your heartbeat, especially if you talk, the music is just there as a background noise.

Always falls asleep

Huge stress reliver for her, if she's got herself worked up over something she'll just toss herself into your arms and complain about it till she falls asleep for the night.

She'll most likely kick your ass if your hands start to wander, but she allows it most the time. Just be a bit careful.

Loves your chest, doesn't matter if your boney or not. Her face is always smashed into it.

SWANSEA ⊹˚₊‧──────‧₊˚⊹

Always big spoon: likes you laying on him or having his chest pressed against your back.

Holds your hand most the time, presses little kisses on your knuckles as well.

Huge gentlemen, if he sees any sign of discomfort, he's not going to do it anymore.

Probably dances with you, I just feel like he's the kind of guy to do that.

Do NOT tease this man, he gets really flustered about it. Sure, he'll drop his voice low and tease the hell out of you but if you match the energy, he's covering your mouth and turning his head away.

His hands are EVERYWHERE.

Likes the smell of you, always commenting on a perfume or your natural scent.

(cmon, its swansea, its like cuddling a huge bear)

AAAAGUHHHHHH I finished it !!! Please enjoy <33 If you have any requests for me feel free to ask and don't be shy!! I do NOT shame anyone at all!! We listen, we don't judge. Have a wonderful day/night loves!!

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coryosbaby · 1 year ago

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—1-800-ʙᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ !

(Dark! Dbf! Anakin Skywalker x fem! Reader)

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your parents leave you home alone to tend to the christian faith. It’s a good thing that your daddy’s friend is there to help you atone !

୨୧ Content warning . Dubious consent (reader is naive, but consents), blasphemy & strong religious themes, manipulation, baby trapping? age gap (reader is of in her 20s)// innocence kink, god complex, loss of virginity, size kink, oral, pnv, missionary + full nelson position

Disclaimer: I am not religious, though I do know there are people that are. pls block if it bothers you! This is solely fiction and not meant to offend anyone, and I don’t condone using religion as a way to manipulate or hurt others. Thanks! ⋆｡˚ ⋆

Your parents leaving you alone is honestly a scary experience.

Although it’s fun (having the house to yourself means having the large flat screen tv in the living room), you’ve come to find that at night you’re quite afraid of the dark. And of course, your family has left on an adult-only Christian retreat and has left you home alone.

Sure, you’re more than old enough. But you haven’t been exactly… exposed to the world around you. So the idea of monsters and demons filling the dark corners of your home, it becomes even more prominent.

You try to concentrate on your bible, try to read through the verses where God tells you to fear no evil, but the paranoia is creeping in on your cold spine like a winter’s chill. You try to listen to music, too, to drown out the whispers you hear in the night.

But to no avail.

You decide that you have no choice but to call the only contact that’s available to you.

Anakin is your godfather, in the sense that he’s your father’s best friend. He’s always been around, and he’s always helped you with your studies. Anakin— Ani, as you sometimes call him, lives less than a few blocks away. He always tells you that if you need him, he’ll be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to ring him up, right?

Pressing the dial on your phone, you type in his number with ease. Biting your thumb nail you wait for him to answer. He picks up on the third ring.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You smile at his voice, the one that always gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You suspect that it’s because he’s your favorite person.

“Everything’s fine, Ani. Are you at work?”

“It’s a Saturday, isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Then I’m off work, sweetheart,” he replies softly, and then you get that tingly feeling again. “Why did you decide to call?”

It’s not in the sense that he’s annoyed— he’s genuinely curious. You nervously rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Well—“ you start, embarrassed. “Mom and dad are out, ‘n— it’s dark.”

“Dark?”

“It’s—“ you can feel tears beginning to form in your eyes as the wind creaks outside. “I don’t like it, Ani. I don’t wanna be alone in here... Please come.”

Anakin’s cock presses against his zipper at the sound of your whiny, desperate voice. He palms his bulge through his slacks.

“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I’ll come,” he pauses. “Just gotta do something first, okay? Then I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

You sniffle, the tears beginning to fall now.

“Okay. ‘M sorry.”

“For what? Don’t apologize to me sweetheart. Just wait there.”

—

A good forty minutes later Anakin is there, and when you open the door for him you latch onto him like a leech— your hands wrap around his waist, your bury your face into his fit chest, and you whimper against him as he coos gentle reassurances to you.

“It’s okay, baby. Ani’s here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He brings you over to the couch, sitting you on the cushion beside him as he looks down at your pink bible. He notes that you use the wooden cross necklace he had bought you for your nineteenth birthday as a bookmark.

“Been readin’?” He notes, looking down at the opened pages. You’ve been highlighting some verses, and next to this book there’s another: Christianity for Girls.

“Mhm.”

Anakin picks it up with idle hands. He flips to the first chapter.

“C’mere. Want me to read to you?”

“Yes, sir.” You reply, and with a gentle flick to your hair you begin to climb into his lap. It’s not uncommon for you to do this— he’s so comfy and warm. Even though sometimes the things in his pocket tend to poke against your bottom, you don’t mind. It’s worth it if Ani has his big arms wrapped around you.

He grunts as you settle down on him— his cock twitches as he feels your panties hit his lap. Your skirt is covered just enough to not expose you, but it still rides up as you sit down. His hand grips your thigh, and with the other he settles the book in his palm.

“Chapter 1,” he clears his throat. “Rules.”

Well, okay. If you say so.

“Girls should always follow their faith in God.”

Fair enough.

You nod along, as he reads the next.

“Girls should go to church every Sunday.” He smirks, turning to you. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”

“Of course! I love church.”

Anakin chuckles, flipping to the next page and adjusting himself from underneath you.

“Rule number three,” he says. His voice hesitates as he reads the next line, then he awkwardly clears his throat. “No premarital sex.”

Your brows furrow, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “What’s that?”

He sucks in a breath, his cock beginning to become hard for a second time today.

“Sex? It’s—“

“No, no,” you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I meant— I know what sex is, Ani. Sort of. But.. what is premarital sex?”

“It’s sex before marriage. Doing it with someone you aren’t going to devote yourself to.”

“Oh.” You twiddle your fingers, eyes averting down to look at the ink splattered pages. “But— if you do it with someone you’re going to devote yourself to, without being married anyway, isn’t that still non premarital? I mean, in a way, you are married…sort of.”

Anakin shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder. You try to ignore how the closeness of his breath makes you tingle.

“Dunno, honey. I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”

You nod, wiggling around on his lap to get more comfortable. Anakin’s fingers grab your hips with a firm hand.

“Have you ever done it?” You ask. “Premarital sex, I mean.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. Something in him is breaking apart, all these years of pent up sexual frustration for you beginning to come to a head as his resolve crumbles.

“Yes. Many times,” he coincides. “With a lot of people I didn’t care about. I shouldn’t of done that. It’s bad.”

Your face fills to the brim with heat, as the tension in the room grows incredibly thick. Your eyes widen when you feel him hump against your clothed cunt.

“What about you, baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Have you done it?”

You stutter, hesitating, and that’s when Anakin gets his answer.

“Right. ‘Course you haven’t,” and then, quietly, as if to himself, “Too precious for those boys…”

You let out a small sound in the back of your throat, that tingly feeling growing evermore prominent. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. Maybe it’s the heat in the room, maybe it’s your claustrophobia.

Or maybe, you think, it’s the devil.

White hot heat coils in your private parts, and you try to get off of Anakin to get rid of feeling. He tsks, grabbing your hips and shoving you back into his lap. You whine, hands gripping is in an attempt to get away.

“Ani.. c’mon—“

“Do you touch yourself?” He asks darkly. You let out a little gasp. “Do you touch your princess parts, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, almost too quickly, and can’t help but press your thighs together. Anakin is having none of it.

“Liar,” he hisses. “You have. Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying to me.”

“I’m sorry!” You whimper against his harsh grip. “I-I stopped! I did, I really did, and I’ve been meaning to repent and atone for my sins but I haven’t yet…please, Ani.”

Tears of shame begin to fall from your eyes, wet and salty. You let out a little cry. Anakin softens a bit, his grip on you loosening. He wraps his arms around your tummy and quietly shushes you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, angel, I know you didn’t mean to,” he coos, as your hands move around to rest in the locks of his hair. “Sensitive baby. I know it’s hard not to touch yourself down there. ‘S okay.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, turning your head to look into his eyes. He smiles.

“I promise.”

Your eyes innocently move down to his lips, that feeling growing inside even more.

“Ani..” you whisper. “It’s.. I want to.. to touch myself again. I don’t know how to control it…”

He strokes your hair out of your face with his fingers, cooing again.

“It’s okay,” and then, after a moment, with his cock pressed flush against your cunt, “I can help. Do you want me to?”

“But.. isn’t that premarital sex?”

He presses a kiss against your earlobe.

“You love me, don’t you? And I know I love you. So isn’t that marital sex?”

Your brain has turned into a puddle. Softly, you whisper out, “yes.”

He smiles against your skin, his hands sliding up past the expanse of your thighs.

“There’s something they don’t tell you about sex,” he murmurs. “When you let the man you love inside you, it’s a way to celebrate god. You become one with god.” He quirks a brow, watching you listen closely to him. “And you atone. Don’t you want to atone, baby?”

Your doe eyes look up at him, and you nod. He grins, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His thumb pulls the flesh of your bottom lip down and he watches it bounce back against your teeth.

“Why don’t you give me a kiss? Hm, pretty?”

And just like that, he’s got you. Your lips, ever so softly, come up to peck his. He smiles.

“Again.”

And you do kiss him again. Only this time, he presses hard into your mouth and it’s not long before his hands are tangling in your hair and he’s rubbing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s all surreal, this man below you, his cock hard. You don’t know that, of course. Pulling away from him, you have a confused look on your face.

“What’s always in your pocket? ‘S poking me.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything. He just laughs at you, and leans in for more of your kisses. You get too lost in the feeing of his hands massaging your inner thighs to press him for an answer. But you find out soon enough when you feel him push your hand down into the front of his pants. Letting out a small squeak you feel the warm skin of his cock, and something tugs at your lower tummy again.

“Oh.” you say softly, understanding. It was never something in his pocket— it was him.

“Feel what you did to me?” Anakin huffs out, as he guides your hand up and down on his length. “That’s my cock, baby. It’s what happens when I get really excited to see you.”

A small smile grazes your features at the thought of Anakin liking your presence. A whole lot, it seems, because his body is physically reacting. He grunts when you squeeze his length out of curiosity.

“Does it hurt?” You murmur, watching him.

“Not at all,” he coincides, adjusting you on his lap. “Feels good.“

And okay, that’s even better. Now you’re making Anakin feel good. Pride floods your chest. Watching him, you feel his precum drip down your fist.

“Can I see it?”

Your voice surprises him, and he’s nodding so quickly that it seems like he might break his neck.

“‘Course, pretty girl, can watch it all day if you want to…” looking at you hungrily, he mutters in a soft tone, “C’mere, get on your knees.”

Confusion muddles your brain, but not as much as the ache to please him. You crawl off of his lap, and he takes one of the couch pillows and places it on the floor.

“Sit.” He commands, and you rest your knees on the pillow and your small hands on his big thighs.

He unbuttons his fly, then his zipper. His bulge is straining against his briefs, a wet patch on the front from his arousal. Gulping, you watch as he pulls his pants and underwear all the way down and slips them off.

His length springs free, dripping with pre and insanely long. Your eyes widen as you watch it, wondering: where does it go?

Okay. So, you have a vague idea of where it’s supposed to go— somewhere in you, but you don’t know where. But either way, you know for for a fact that wherever that is isn’t adjustable enough for such a big thing. Your face floods with embarrassment.

“Where do I…” you start, quiet. Anakin furrows a brow, grabbing his cock into his palm.

“Where do you what?”

You avoid his gaze.

“Where do I.. put it?”

A smile quirks on the man’s lips, stroking himself to the sight of your pretty face peering at his cock.

“Your mouth, sometimes. But especially where you touch yourself, angel. Your cunt.” He tilts his head, not shaming you but trying to explain. “Do you know what your cunt is?”

You shyly nod, knowing that that’s what some of the boys around town called that spot where you touch yourself. And now, feeling this odd tingle inside you, it all makes perfect sense. It wants Ani inside.

But you frown at him.

“It won’t fit,” you say sadly. “‘S too big”

“It’ll fit, honey. Just have to stretch you first.”

Stretch you? That sounds painful! Fear courses through you.

“Stretch me?” You say worriedly.

Anakin seems amused by your reaction.

“It’ll only hurt a little, then it’ll feel really good,” he explains. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Your head moves up and down, and you know that it’s true. He smiles softly, and then he’s tapping your lip with his finger.

“Open,” he says.

Your parted mouth falls completely open, pink tongue lolling out as he places the tip of his cock on it. It takes you by surprise, and your lashes flutter as his taste evades your senses. It’s an odd flavor— not too bad, but not too good either. Though, the thought of it being from Ani makes it all worth while. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, the wet muscle making a plopping sound as his stringy precum creates a small puddle in your mouth. He watches, proud, and he praises you in the most gentle tone he can muster.

“Good girl. Such a pretty mouth, can’t wait to cum inside it…”

And that makes your eyes shut tight as you let out a loud whine, knowing that his cum is another delicious fluid that you will happily drink up soon. His cock guides itself even more into your mouth, the cockhead disappearing in between your plush lips. You use your mouth gently, treating his cock with care, not wanting to hurt him. He grunts when you swirl your tongue around him.

“Mmm,” he breathes. “Lick it, baby. Like an ice cream cone… yeahhh. Just like that, sweet girl.”

You hollow your cheeks around his mushroomed head, your brain becoming fuzzy at the feeling of his length moving in and out of your mouth. Suckling him, he’s soft and warm on your tongue.

You do this for quite some time. Anakin’s thrusts speed up, and he makes you take more and more and more. When you choke on him for the first time he tells you that it’s okay— “just get through it, baby, don’t you wanna be good for me?” And of course you do, because it’s Ani, and he’s really handsome and he smells really nice and his hands are so big as they card themselves through your hair. You can’t get enough and you’re almost angry he hadn’t shown you this sooner. Your vision is dizzy as he uses your mouth.

On a particularly harsh thrust that makes your throat spasm around him, Anakin begins to make some very pretty noises. Drool leaks down your chin and chest, your mascara running, his balls slapping against your chin. He groans loudly.

“Gonna cum,” he mutters out. “Gonna fill up your throat. Do you want that, sweet girl?”

You can’t say anything, but you try your hardest to nod around his cock. He gets the message. And with stuttering hips, salty fluid shoots into the wet canal of your mouth. It fills you up until you’re choking, and as Anakin rides out his high his cock practically coats itself in cum as he moves in and out, in and out. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and with a mouth full of spend you gasp out for air. Anakin’s got this possessive stare in his eyes as he looks at you.

“Swallow it.”

You do. You gulp it down excitedly, and with a small “aaaaa” you stick out your tongue so he can see that you’ve consumed it all. Anakin looks down at you with a grin on his face.

“That’s my girl.”

—

“I want you to… to put it in me.”

Your voice speaks softly in the darkness of your room, rain pattering against your window as Anakin sits on your bed across from you. It’s been a week since your last… encounter. Your parents are out once again— and as requested, Anakin had shown up on your doorstep to keep you company. After a mug of hot chocolate, your favorite, you had invited the man into your room. A cross is around his neck, shiny with a silver chain. His hair is messy, his fingers clad in silver metal rings. You want to bite them.

Anakin smiles, pretty teeth shining.

“Do you know the story of the Virgin Mary?” He asks, out of context. Your eyes light up. Mary is your favorite biblical figure.

“Yes!” You reply to him. “She got pregnant by God.”

“And how did she do that?”

“By magic!” You say. “She gave birth to Jesus.”

Anakin chuckles, kissing your forehead softly.

“Such a smart girl. But sweetheart, magic didn’t give her a baby.” At the sight of your confused face, he continues. “Sex did. That’s how all babies are made.”

Heat creeps up your neck, your face puzzled. “So you’ll give me a baby?”

Anakin should be frightened at the thought of getting his best friend’s daughter pregnant, but he isn’t. In fact, he smiles, his touch leaving tingles against your skin.

“If that’s what you want. Just imagine, angel..” his lips brush against your ear, smoothing back a strand of your hair. “A beautiful baby. My nose, my lips.. those pretty eyes of yours.”

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering. Having Anakin’s baby would be your dream! Having a house with him, children running around, Anakin coming home from work everyday…

Oh, but daddy would be so mad.

He would never look at you the same again. He would be ashamed, he would damn you to the deepest pit of hell.

You think these things so incredibly, but once Anakin’s lips press against yours all of those things go away. He kisses you slow, sweet, gentle. His stomach presses against your tummy.

“I can’t wait to see it. Your little belly, all swollen with my baby..”

And daddy is out of your thoughts and replaced with a new, different daddy: Anakin.

It’s not long before he’s got you laid down on your ruffled pink sheets, your baby blue nightgown gone (“cmon, let me see that pretty body”), with Anakin’s lips trailing down your neck. He’s gotten you prepped, used his fingers and tongue in oh so many ways that had made you quiver, used your throbbing cunt for his own meal. When you spread your legs for him this time, it’s so he can rub his incredibly hard length against the lips of your pussy. Delectable and sweet as he remembers, Anakin watches the way your leftover cum and slick coat his length generously.

He’s never seen a cunt so cute, so fat, so swollen and precious. He taps his cockhead against your clit, listens to the desperate little pleas you let out as you look up at him with doe eyes.

“Please, Ani, want your baby.”

“Please, daddy, put it inside me. My cunt’s so tight and wet for you..”

You don’t say that last part, Anakin’s imagination runs wild, but he knows you’re probably thinking that— thinking that as his mushroomed tip pops inside your entrance, stretching, burning. Thinking that as you cry, your salty tears his most delectable meal besides the thing in between your legs. Thinking that as you grimace, give him that pained look as he fully sheathes himself inside.

And then, he begins to move.

It’s like a fire in your gut, at first. Hot, burning, grating. But soon it gives way to something else— something not even his fingers can create, something that’s absolutely out of this world. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts along the skin, and you should apologize but you can’t bring yourself to care. Ani’s whispering something in your ear, something dirty, filthy, and deprived; you enjoy it so much, you really do, as he speaks to you like this.

“Good girl, so tight. Daddy’s so happy when he fucks his little princess.”

“Look at that, how red and swollen your little pussy is. Is my cock too big for it?”

After harsh thrusts, skin slapping against skin, and curled toes, Anakin pulls out of you. You almost sob from the loss, but it isn’t long before he lays you on top of him and slips himself back into your sopping hole, pulling your ankles behind your head. This causes your eyes to flutter open again, a small moan leaving you. Anakin brings his hands around to hold your legs and head in a chokehold. He fucks you like that, all twisted and overstimulated.

Looking down, you watch as his length fills you to the brim and moves in and out of you.

“A-Am —“ you sniffle, a pleasured sob racking through your throat. “Am I being good, Ani? Is… Is god inside me now?”

Anakin groans, his hips pressing even harder against your raw fucked pussy.

“Yeah, baby,” He breathes, his hand pressing against the bulge poking out of your lower tummy. “God’s in you. Right in this little tummy.“

You mewl, understanding his words, the blasphemy in them. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur out, “don’t say that.. ‘s bad. You’re being bad.”

“But I’m making you feel so good. Aren’t I, baby?” He taunts, with a hint of malice in his voice. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A thick, hard cock to fill up this little pussy?”

You shake your head, trying to deny yourself this pleasure you can’t contain. Anakin chuckles.

“Yes, it is. I can tell when you’re lying, little girl... oh, look at you. Little legs are shaking. Poor baby…”

You should feel guilty for all the dirty things leaving his sinful mouth. You should hate him and find him icky and push him away. Hes a dirty, filthy man.

But… he’s your Ani. The man who protects you, hugs you when you’re sad, buys you your favorite lip gloss and stuffed animals. And that cross is dangling in pressing against your back, cold and heavy like a burden but still turning you on and— he smells so good, and although you keep trying to move away from his harsh fucking, you know in your mind that you don’t want him to stop. Little sounds escape your throat with each thrust, moans and whines that sound like a wounded animal. But you are far from wounded— unless you count the soreness you’re probably going to feel tomorrow from Anakin pounding your guts.

Grunting, his arms flex on each side of you as he grasps your body with firm hands.

The man’s cock moves against your walls harshly, slick penetrating the skin of your thighs and making you shake. A smirk glazes his lips as he watches your face contorted in pleasure, and your neck is craned so you can see every facial expression he makes.

You thought you had never seen God. But right now, you might not be so sure.

“Good little angel,” he groans gently. “Such a tight little fuck hole for daddy.”

You want to be disgusted by the name, wanted to be disgusted since the first time he said it, but before you can think too hard the tip of his mushroomed head slams against a certain spot that has you sobbing out, “daddy, daddy!” against your own accord. He moans himself at the sound of your pleasure.

“Good fucking girl. Hittin’ that princess spot so good, yeah? Pussy feelin’ good?”

Your eyes roll back, your body going limp like a rag doll as you relax against his jackhammering thrusts. It all feels too good. The Bible always talks about heaven and you think that this is truly it: Anakin below you, holding you down, humping into you like an animal, as he spews disgusting phrases into your ears.

Maybe he isn’t the devil. Maybe he’s God.

You can feel something building up in your tummy, the familiar butterflies now turning dark like moth wings, scraping against that one spot over and over and over. God grins from below you, and bringing his hand up he forces your mouth open with his big fingers. His spit lands down on your tongue, wet and warm and perfect.

“Swallow.” He commands, and you do it greedily. Your voice moans for more, aches for more, and he does it thrice.

“Do you trust me?” He growls. “Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes! Yes sir.” You whimper, and you know it’s true when it falls from your lips. He forces his fingers to press even harsher around your head. Your ears ring, a pressure beginning to form in your skull.

“God’s got you,” Anakin growls. “God’s got you and your life in his hands. And you know what?”

You don’t say anything, just shake your head as you try to catch a breath of air.

“He’s not gonna let it go.” He continues. “You’re gonna feel this, honey. You’re gonna get fucked like this all the time—“ your vision is blurring, his words making you spasm. He brings his fingers down to that swollen button on your soaked pussy and rubs in harsh circles. “— When daddy thinks his precious little girl is asleep, when he thinks she’s praying to god, she’s going to be praying to me. Choking on my dick, getting fuckin’ bred. Do you want that? Do you want my cum, you fucking slut?”

You can’t really hear him anymore; your body has gone completely limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure. You’re still breathing, you know you are, but you fall unconscious in Anakin’s harsh grasp.

And when he sees you like that, all fucked out and deadweight, he groans and begins to pound you harder.

#bunny spelling Anakin right for once?!!#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker x reader #anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #dbf! Anakin Skywalker #dilf! Anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker smut #dom! Anakin Skywalker #star wars #Hayden Christensen #dark! Anakin Skywalker

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csainzoperator · 8 months ago

Text

college bf! f1 drivers pt 1 ☆

summary: college bf! f1 drivers text messages with small written snippets based on the texts :)

warnings: fem pronouns, kys jokes, cursing, mentions of kissing, kissing, slightly suggestive, nicknames (baby, babe, love), typos (?)

read more below the cut !

charles leclerc

you grab a can of grape soda and search for a place to sit. you find a corner near the window, the fresh spring breeze rustling your hair. you sit down and wait patiently for charles. a few minutes later he's walking inside the canteen, towards you. he's smiling big and as soon as he reaches you, he grabs your face, placing chaste kisses on your cheek and lips.

"hey, baby" he greets you. you smile and reply "hi"

he takes a seat beside you and raises his eyebrows, like he's waiting for you to do something. you raise your eyebrows in return. he grumbles out a few words which you cannot decipher. you nudge him softly as you ask him to repeat. "i didn't get my kiss!" he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

"oh you big baby" you say as you grab his face a drop a few kisses on his cheek. your lipstick staining his cheek. you caress his cheek to wipe it away. "happy?" you question him. he nods, "very. afterall, i ditched my class to be here with you."

your smile fades a bit, feeling a little guilty as you had called him so abruptly. you shove him playfully, making him stand up "go back, the class would've just started. you can still make it"

he frowns. he shakes his head, "its not an important class, he's just doing some revision."

"revision is important! i just needed to see my boyfriend for a little boost. i'm good now. go!"

he reluctantly lets go. he places a kiss on your forehead and promises to come visit your dorm later in the evening. you smile up at him and reach for your soda, only to see it in charles' hand. he gives you a wink as he leaves, taking a sip from the can.

carlos sainz

the game had just ended, and you were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend. he had scored a goal for the team. the winning goal. you smiled in excitement, waiting for the team to let go of your boyfriend so you can congratulate him. he spots you standing nearby and excuses himself from his team mates. he walks over to you, picking you up as he reaches you.

you yelp in surprise and hold onto him tight. wrapping your arms around his neck, laughing. "congrats, baby. that was amazing!" he smiles brightly, kissing your cheek. "thank you, mia cara" he says. he puts you down gently and wraps his arms around you.

"you came" he says, kissing the side of your forehead.

"i wouldn't be anywhere else"

after a few seconds, you swat him away. "look at all that sweat. ugh get away from me" you complain, rolling your eyes playfully

he picks you up again, walking towards his car. "put me down, you sick fuck" you wrap your arms around him as he fastens his pace, making you laugh. "now i'm all sweat"

"gives us another reason to shower together" he says, a slight smirk making its way onto his face.

lewis hamilton

you pick your phone up as soon as you're done showering and putting on some comfortable clothes. you click on the face time button and set your phone up on the bed, pillows as the support. you wait for lewis to pick, which doesn't take long as he picks up in a couple of rings.

you smile at him "what's up, princess?" the words slip past you automatically, like you've said this to him a thousand times. which you have.

he grunts in mock annoyance. "come save me, i'm stuck here" he says, his face showing how he hated being in that party. you could hear loud snarky music in the background.

"i wish i could, i left my car for service" you smile at him apologetically. he groans and starts walking towards a balcony of some sort, or an open space. it was much more peaceful. you could hear him more clearly now.

"will you please stay with me on ft for a while? until my room mate decides to leave. which will be soon because he's drunk out of his mind." he says, sitting down on a stool. the night breeze making him shiver.

you spoke for a few minutes until his friend decided to leave. lewis said he'd be near your dorm after dropping his mate in the room. he said he desperately needed your hug.

george russell

you shared your live location with george. you were currently walking towards your dorm. you felt his strong cologne engulf you before his arms did. you smile as you walk with george, his arm draped around your waist. "well, hello there" you amuse.

"don't you ever scare me like that. do you know how much i died on the inside?" he questions you, giving your waist a squeeze. you kiss his cheek, hoping to calm his nerves. "i told you, baby! i fell asleep in the library. ms sanders woke me up. i was exhausted after that 12 page essay"

"its okay, i know. you need to rest, love. did you eat yet?" he questions, as you both enter your dorm.

you shake your head, "i had breakfast, slept through lunch"

he looks at you like you've grown two heads. he grabs your hand and starts walking towards the exit. you let out a chuckle "now where are we headed to, girl?"

he looks at you, giving you a mock glare. "girl? what happened to bf, love, baby, cutie?"

he tells you to wait near the exit. a few minutes later, he's there with his bike. he motions for you to hop on. you smile as you get on, getting comfortable behind him. "we are getting some food into that stomach of yours" he says, handing you your helmet.

you wrap your arms around his torso. you knew. you knew, even if he had the most important thing to do, he would drop it to look after you. not because you were his girlfriend. but because you were his priority. because you were important. and he was deeply, madly, desperately, messily in love with you.

max verstappen

you were in your university park, sitting under a tree. the guy you were supposed to be doing your political science project was doing anything but the project. you were not a patient person, and it was getting harder as the guy even kept touching your shoulder now and then.

to your rescue, your boyfriend was right there. he walked towards the both of you. he took his seat next to you, giving the guy a timid 'pls fuck of soon' smile. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he sat there as you guys actually started to discuss your project.

the guy clearly didn't get the hint as he still tried to make contact with you now and then. the third time, max was done with all the utter bullshit that he was witnessing. he pulled you closer to him

"you know, i would really like it if you got your stupid ass hand off my girl" he says, making the guy frown in annoyance. within seconds, the guy is scurrying off.

you let out a delayed laugh. you look up at max. he shrugs, giving you an innocent smile. "you can't actually say that, max!"

he kisses your forehead, whispering "i just did, baby."

he brushes your arm near the place where the guy touched you. "what are you doing?" you question.

"dusting off his filthiness from you. maybe we should get back to my dorm. shower the filthiness off after i watch you finish on my face." he offers his reply. you shove him playfully. "you're the filthy one"

he stares, kissing your lips softly, mumbling, "you make me."

the end

an: had so much fun making these. hope u enjoy!

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dollniu · 3 months ago

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lets talk abt kinks ! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS — kinks i think jjk men secretly have…

PAIRINGS — toji x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, ino x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader

CONTENT — biting and hickeys, blood play, teasing, humiliation, overstimulation, 69, begging, orgasm control, masochism

OTHER — MNDI 🔞

TOJI — biting and marks

toji shows ZERO mercy when it comes to marking you as his own. while he’s fucking u, he loves biting on your neck and leaving trails of bite marks across your skin that don’t go away for at least a week. whether he’s fucking you from the back or the front, he’s sucking on some part of your body. he loves hearing the the soft moans you make when he bites you which only makes him bite harder, it’s like music to his ears. just using his mouth all over you while he’s throbbing inside you, licking and sucking and kissing, etc. he knows ALL of ur sensitive parts and loves sucking on your sweet spot while ur riding him and the reactions you make when he bites you only makes him go rougher. also the fact that literally everyone can see the work of art he’s made on your neck, bite marks and hickeys (even in places only you two can see 💋) “you’re fucking mine.”

SUKUNA — blood play

sukuna is a mf sadist. he absolutely loves it when you’re at his complete disposal and a little toy he can inflict his cruel desires onto. and there’s nothing he loves more than leaving cuts on your body that leak with sweet crimson liquid. scratching at ur thighs or stomach, anywhere he desires with his sharp nails and watching the blood drip from your tits to your stomach only for him to lick it all up, savoring the taste of you. and the way you arch your back in pain and pleasure drives him crazy, watching you bleed as he fucks you harder and rougher. and the thing he loves most is biting into your neck with his sharp fangs, drinking the blood while he’s pounding inside you. drinking the blood and hearing you squeal in pain from the sudden impact only makes him bite deeper. “your sweet blood is mine, doll. let me taste every last drop of you on my tongue.”

GOJO — teasing/humilation

no matter where you guys are, gojo always finds a way to tease you. whether it’s whispering in your ear how much he wants to be inside you or touching you in the places you’re most sensitive, he just loves seeing you squirm as your face turns beat red. especially at the worst times— at meetings he’ll playfully put his hand in ur inner thigh, inching towards your core just to see that delicious flushed look on your face. he can’t contain himself when he sees you like that, a horny squirming mess. and during sex it’s even better, he’d make you strip down in front of him with his eyes glued onto your body, licking his lips while staring at the flustered mess he created. gojo is the type of guy to make direct eye contact while he’s fucking you. you’ll turn away in embarrassment but he’ll just grab your humiliated face and force you to stare into his eyes while he’s pounding you. it drives him crazy when he sees you squirming underneath him, letting out loud moans that you try to hold in, covering your mouth. but in return, he fucks you harder, rougher, just to hear those sweet noises come out. “come on, you like being like this.. don’t you? my little slut.”

INO — overstimulation

whether it’s you or him, ino loves overstimulation. feeling everything at once, it’s too much to handle but it feels so good. he loves seeing you squirm as he fingers you, making your legs shake after coming for the third time. you tell him to stop, pushing ino away but he knows damn well you want more and he fucking loves it. but whether you’re riding him, giving him a blowjob, or a handjob, he’s gonna be begging for you to keep going. tears flow from his wet eyes, staring up at you bounce on his dick, begging to let him cum. orgasm after orgasm, he wants to come again and again. “p-please! oh fuck- please keep going baby- please l-let me cum!”

HIGURUMA — 69 (duh)

higuruma LOVES EATING PUSSY. this is a known fact, he loves tasting all of you and licking up your sweet juices. and of course, riding his nose is also a factor. you mentioned it once and he absolutely lit up to the idea, looking up and seeing you use him for your personal pleasure made him hard just thinking about it. so when you brought up the idea of 69, you do it every night. sucking his dick while pleasuring his girl was absolute heaven for him, eating you out to perfection while getting a blowjob was just what this overworked man needs after a long day at work! just eating your pussy is enough, but feeling you swallow his dick while he plays with ur clit with his tongue felt heavenly. “god.. you taste so fucking good.. please.. mphm.. keep going.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #ino takuma #ino smut #ino x reader

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rinhaler · 1 year ago

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DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

m.list | chapter two

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