Tumgik
#to feel the way i do all the time and have that be what is Right because it is so rare to see outside of me
screampied · 2 days
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FAKIN’ IT FOR YOU ?! ☆
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gojo, sukuna, nanami, toji, choso. faking an orgasm n how they react
cw. fem! reader, unprotected, faking órgasms, praise, filthy dirty talk, orgasm denial, first time squirt (choso), öral (f! receiving), nipple play, impact play, manhandling, req by anon, mdni. total wc 3.7k
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★ TOJI FUSHIGURO
“what the fuck was that?”
he wouldn’t even care he was balls deep—you can’t even try to fake an orgasm with toji because he’ll immediately know. toji knows every inch of your body—he studies it like one would study for an exam, every particular nerve, he knows how to hit it until you break. yet, the moment you decide to fake your release, all hell breaks loose. you’d be on all fours as he stops his churlish hits against you, a hand of his gathers a firm amount of your hair before he tightly yokes it back. sweetly, you play coy and moan, “what was what?”
“let’s not,” toji grumbles, and he’s annoyed. you can hear the extra grit linger underneath his tone as he speaks. ravened eyebrows of his curve into a frustrated furrow before he pulls out. it was so abrupt, you whine before he gives your ass a rude spank, darting his eyes away with an eye roll. “oh, please, girl. was that a fake moan too?”
“it wasn’t f-fake,” you protest, and you’re suddenly quiet from the way he rubs his fatten swollen tip against your soddened entrance. toji could read you like a book though—you weren’t bullshitting anyone. you was so close but instead, you decided to be a bit more of a brat, kind of desperate to see toji’s reaction.
all toji does is pull out. you whine, the friction titillating against every number of nerves hidden within your body before he spanks your ass again. “faking an orgasm for me, girl bye.” and as he speaks, you could hear his sheer vexation. toji brings your hips up to him, having your face laid down against the woolly mattress before he wraps a hand around his shaft. giving it a few pumps, he starts to slap his tip against your entrance. “got some balls, girl. i’ll give ya that.”
“w- why’d you pull out?” you whimper, making a cute attempt at grinding your rear against him. toji snickers, drubbing his plump cockhead against your slit, pushing it in—only to pull it right back out. the dewy squashes your pussy makes only rings against your ears further. all you feel is pure static, you’re panting, chest heaving, everything and above.
with a secure grip against a nice chunk of your hair, toji groans. “b- because i fuckin’ cannn,” he mocks your faltering stutter, a palm of his bedaubing against your folds before spanking it silly. “ooh,” he purrs, watching your thighs shimmy upon impact. you bite your lip, trying to rut yourself further against him and he only resumes to rub his rounded fat tip between your slit. desperately, you try to swallow him whole but before you could even attempt — toji pulls it back out, slapping his hefty cock onto your pussy again and again. “got some nerve faking an orgasm with me when y’er this soaked already.”
“f-fuck,” a mewl dies out your throat as you feel him continue to smear his rotund cockhead all over your most sensitive parts. with your back hunched over, pretty thighs parted, you let off a bratty giggle. huffing out a sweet sigh, you hum, “it’s just … you’re getting a bit old, toji. didn’t wanna be mean.”
toji’s left eye twitches. as he ghosts a few fingers against your cunt — he slowly inserts two thick fingers inside of your lewd opening before pulling his digits back out. “old, huh?” and he flips you over to look straight at him. sable hairs of his run down his brows before he slyly smiles. a gasp wretches out from your throat before he shoves both of your knees up to your chest, realigning himself. with a husky grunt, he snarls. “don’t play with me. old or not i’ll still break this bed, whore.”
“d- do it then.” you almost simper but he cups a hand over your face.
“tch, such a mouth on ya. ain’t nothin’ a few orgasms won’t fix,” and you moan once he starts to finally make his way inside of you. the girth of toji thickens and dilates throughout your walls and you feel his grip tighten against your knees. as the bed starts to creak in harmony again, he darkly cackles, hot breath aerating against your neck. “oh, and just a heads up baby. when i break this bed, ‘s coming out of your pocket to replace it. ‘ppreciate it.”
★ CHOSO KAMO
“h-huh,” he’d stammer in short briskly breaths. choso doesn’t realize you fake it until he actually realizes something wasn’t right. with him being propped up between your plush thighs, he gently gnaws against your chin, panting heavily. “baby, did you just fake your orgasm?”
you only give him a sheepish grin and choso pouts, he leans in to kiss your pout, soft sweet kisses gluing against your chin before he whines. “that… wasn’t nice,” and he buries his face into his neck. choso’s only teasing—but in the case that you do fake an orgasm with him, he’s more than determined to make you cum at least ten times harder. choso would have you laying flat on your back, gradually easing himself back into your sopping accepting walls before he whines. “oh f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling you immediately engulf around his length. he’s throbbing into you, various veins that run down his shaft pulse inside of you. your legs immensely snake around his waist before he starts to deeply drill into you.
choso’s pace is different this time — it’s much more frantic, he’s still whimpering praises into your ear as he’s plummeting his dick within your gummy clingy walls. “mhm, just like that baby. s-so good,” you’d mewl out, his hips continuing to drive into you at a full smacking speed. it’s addictive, the way his sharp hips rotate against you—you feel your tongue hang out before he leans in to suck on it.
you’ve always tasted so sweet, choso’s moans only grow louder as he starts to tap against that same spot buried inside of your cunt. he knows your moans are for real this time because of your body language—how you cling onto him tightly with your giddy arms and legs, biting down onto his right shoulder in pure pleasure. “fuck, fuck right there baby. that’s it, that spot, pleaseee.”
choso could have came alone from your melodic words of encouragement. you’re all stupefied with your eyes crossed, warm hot bodies clashing against each other in sync. he whimpers, feeling his thighs ache near the undersides before his hefty cock reaches yet another deep spot. your legs were steadfastly wrapped around his torso, making sure he’d never leave. “come on baby, give me one, please. gimme a real one,” and he licks a long stripe up your neck. “give it to me, make a mess on m-me so i can clean you right up.”
as you’re positioned in a sprawled way, choso’s hands roam towards your neglected bouncing tits. his head lowers down to suck against them as his hips go slow. a growing pool of heat resides near your lower abdomen as his delicious inches drill in and out of you. “f-fuck, ‘cho. ‘s coming, feel w-wet.”
“let go on me, please,” he purrs, his tongue licking against your sensitive nipples. after a while, he csnt help but start to suck against your precious mounds, moaning as you cup his face to look at you. choso grinds against you, verbosely slowing himself down before you let off a real shriek. as the coarse smacks against each body pitched louder and loduer, you feel yourself zealously jolt forward before you feel a sudden sensation gush out of you. the velocity of it all was soaking — you’re panting, chest heaving as you try to recollect breaths before you feel yourself spouting out more onto your boyfriend. choso pauses, his pink dampened lips quavering as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “baby,” his eyelids lowers, and he’s puffing for air right with you. a hand of his trails down between your thighs, lifting up your legs before he moans. “did you just squirt on me…?”
feeling a drenching pool of saliva coat into your mouth, you whine out a timid, “y- yes.”
giving you a hungry gaze, his dick twitches inside of you before he pulls out to watch the remnants of your own slick spill out. “o- oh wow,” he gawks at the filthy scenery right before his eyes. in a gruff voice, choso bites his lip, leaning down to press a final delicate kiss against your pussy. “mwah,” his warm lips ghost against your now drenched folds. he can’t help but lick against it, savoring your sweetened taste before he looks up at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “do.. do you think you can squirt for me one more time? pretty please. need you s-so bad.”
★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
the audacity was beyond him—he knows right away, sukuna was no foolish curse.
if it was anything he knew by heart, it was your body. whenever you’re about to orgasm, he likes to stare dead into your eyes whilst he’s giving you his all. slow yet deadly strokes, he likes draining the pleasure out of you with the thick inches of his cock. oh, how his favorite part was to just hear your babbling little voice sob out his name over and over like a looping vinyl on a record player. your adorable cacophonies of “right there, right there,” and “gonna cum, ‘kuna,” and many more, many of which they all never fail to reverb across the padded walls of his sacred chambers.
although, he can easily tell from how it’s real or fake. sukuna gets up close—hearing the sounds of your heavy breaths as your legs wrap around his waist. as you’re taking in every part of his bare long length, your arms sling around him. you’re a mess underneath him, jostling against his beefy built body. the demon’s pure smoldering heat colliding against yours only makes you throb at a much quicker pace. his scent, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “i-i’m close, ‘kuna.” you’d mewl out in a desperate cry, hearing his low animalistic growls all close up against the outer shell of your ear.
he knows,
you didn’t even have to remind him, he knows your body. it was his priceless treasure. sukuna groans as you claw your fingernails into the deep depths of his back. his thickened base resumes to jackhammer into your tight sticky walls furthermore until you croak. he’s just so big, you jaw was dangling open all stupid like before it finally comes— that familiar squeal he’s grown to love. his favorite part.
as your cunt sloshes against the repetitive thwacks against it, you whine out your finish—yet he notices something quite peculiar about your concluding climax. as you lean your back, doe eyes staring into the ceiling, his pointed ears twitch at the way you elongated that single orgasmic syllable. “think you’re so funny,” he says as he waits for your seven second orgasm to come to a closing halt. crimson red eyes makes your tummy churn as you meet his stern gaze and he grips your chin. “little girl, you’re playin’ a dangerous game.”
“w- what?” you coyly mutter, an almost smile pulls against each side of your lips before he glares at you.
sukuna pulls out and you gasp, your ankle brushing against the back of his torso and he squeezes your lips together. “brat,” he snarls, his tone all rough and husky. a free hand of sukuna’s sneaks down between your pried open legs to feel against your pussy. a real moan snatches out from your throat as he rubs sloppy circles against it, only to smack it again, and again, and again. your eyes start to roll as he continues to pace. you’re so soaked that it starts to coat his hand. “look at you. can’t get off to dick but you came just from a few pussy smacks? tch.”
“m-more, ‘kuna. don’t stop pleaseee.” you pant, feeling your tummy cave in as you’re directly underneath him. his weight hovers above you as he still grips your cheeks together, giving you a hot, steamy kiss. sukuna’s forked tongue glides against yours and you whimper in his mouth before he lightly pushes you off. you ‘oof’ back onto the fat padded mattress with a pout as he gets up. with a saddened frown, you sit up to whine. “where— where are you going?”
sukuna fixes his kimono before giving you an annoyed glower. “don’t worry about that. worry about how you’re gonna make that pathetic pussy finish since i apparently can’t make you cum,” and he snickers at your little grumbles before he walks out. “change the sheets when you’re done. fuckin’ wet girl.”
★ NANAMI KENTO
“…oh,” a deep voice groans from behind you. nanami’s voice was low, his simple oh sounded offended more than anything. most of the time he doesn’t really have you on all fours, doggystyle. but today, you were being a bit of a brat. nanami doesn’t mind your little antics, but if it’s to a point where he has to remind you of your place, he will. nanami’s thick cock was plunging in and out of you before he abruptly stops, slowing down once you ‘release.’
your moan sounded a bit too dramatic than usual, you gulp as he lightly grips onto the back of your shirt.
“oh….what?” you’d moan out, and you glance at the mirror that’s propped up in front of the both of you. there—you see nanami with a look of what seems to be mere irritation. nevertheless though, it’s hot. the way his gentle fawn irises burn into you, perfectly arched brows of his lower and a scowl forms onto his lips. he was still fully clothed, just his slacks from work hanging low. out of nowhere, he gives your ass a mean spank.
nanami sighs, feeling his dick that was stuffed inside of you twitch from the inside. “let’s not ask silly questions, my love. you faked that one, didn’t you?” and despite how sweet and alluring his delivery was—you heard a faint rasp in his voice, the baritone as he speaks makes you even more wetter than you already were.
you pout, not fond of how he stopped fucking you, you wanted more—you couldn’t help but be greedy for more of him.
“i didn’t,” you lie through your teeth, arching forward in a cute teasing attempt for him to finish drilling into you. nanami doesn’t follow through though, instead—he gathers a strong yet gentle grip of your hair. as his veins coarse through him, his hefty arms bulge as he pulls you forward to stare at your pathetic needy reflection. “f-finish fucking me, ‘ken. why’d you s-stop?”
“why should i continue, sweetheart? tell me that,” and his words were nothing more but a soft purr. his interest was suddenly piqued—you’ve never faked one of your orgasms before, at least not with him. as you lie on your chest, he takes a peek at your ass before letting off another low sigh. nanami gets directly up close to you before he delicately tightens the grip around your hair a tad bit. “ah, don’t be shy now. tell me what ‘m not doing right to make this pussy feel good. i know you faked it, my love.”
your breath hitches as nanami presses his weight against you—his throbbing cock buries itself between your entrance but he’s not even in fully.
he’s just … idle, his shaft remains near you and you whine from the feeling of him not moving.
“i was just p-playing,” you whine, feeling your perky nipples rub against the satiny-made sheets. whilst you smear your glossy lips together, you grind your hips against your husband. “just wanted attention, ‘ken.”
“my wife,” he whispers, planting a hot kiss near the nape of your neck. his touch alone could make you finish. it was that easy, nanami’s fingers skim against your waist before he sucks gently against your collarbone. “there’s other ways to get my attention, you know that,” and his voice softens by a mile. he’s always gentle with you, his throbbing cock all swollen and built up of so much volumes of seed that he was preparing to give to you. “ugh, having you bent over like this ‘s drivin’ me crazy,” he abruptly admits, feeling you wriggle your ass against his cock that was stuffed between the very temples of your ass. “but,” he swallows, sneaking another kiss, this time against your earlobe. “if i give you another orgasm, ‘s it gonna be real this time?”
“y- yes, promise,” you moan, desperate for him to go back inside. nanami’s hands grab onto your hips now as he pulls them up, relishing in your little arch you’ve got going on for only his eyes to see. you’re gorgeous, he huffs out a few breaths as you take your time to whine out your little words of desire. “won’t fake it anymore, jus’ finish fucking me, please.”
nanami groans—his fingers wrapping around his fat length, giving it a few mere pumps before he prods it against your hungry swallowing slit. “atta girl. keep that arch f’me, yeah,” he sucks his teeth, raising his chin up to where his jawline makes an appearance. “now,” he whispers, deepening his voice as he spreads your legs, making your right cheek sink into the cottony pillow. “let’s try this again. let’s see if i can get a little squirt out of you, sweetheart.”
★ SATORU GOJO
once he finds out you faked your orgasm, it significantly bruises his ego—he tries to play it off with a sheepish cackle cutting out of his throat. “heh, i can fake an orgasm better than that, y’know.” he’d mutter, yet you could hear the little tremor in gojo’s tone. he was quite literally pounding into you before he makes you lie down flat against his chest. he makes you spread your legs for him, exposing your dripping pussy before he pinches your clit. you moan, feeling gojo’s bulge brush off against your ass. “kinda hurt my feelings, hmph.”
“i didn’t f-fake it—” you try to lie. with his fingers rummaging near the inside of your cunt, it had you biting back your words in regret. you lean back against his chest, legs all spread and you start to squirm before he hums against your ear.
“squirmy today aren’t we?” gojo jeers with an impish smile. he titters at the way your legs judder all because of the indecourous stimulation. each tantalizing twitch makes him wanna rub his fingers against your clit even quicker. “if you don’t wanna gimme an orgasm, i’ll just have to do it myself, angel.”
you clench onto his thigh, allowing pleasure to overtake you before his fingertips skid against that familiar spot. now— your moans were very much real, gojo’s fingers was so lengthy that he could reach you in areas his own dick probably couldn’t locate. as your eyelids feel heavy, they shut before another whine leaves your mouth. he still keeps up his pace, maneuvering all kinds of circles over your pussy in a rotation manner before your thighs start to shudder in ecstasy.
“satoru, satoruuuu,” a heavenly sounded whimper dies out your throat. you only then roughly gnaw down on your lip, a cute try at trying to suppress your little moans. “don’t think i can c-cum anymore, ‘s good fuckk.”
he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “yes you can, i know you can baby,” he whispers, and that’s when he moves again, moving himself between your legs this time. gojo brings a chaste kiss towards your pussy, slithery strings of saliva peeling from your folds and it’s so sloppy. immediately, his lips get all moist and muggy with your honeyed slit. he creates a bowling ball grip with two lengthy fingers, shoving the two of them in and out before he blows parching hot air against your cunt. “gotta get my baby a little wetter.” he whispers, watching you pulse from the inside. within seconds, you happily coat your boyfriend's fingers with your dingy sheet arousal before he slowly vigorously continues to knead various circles and shapes against your swollen nub. you were throbbing laboriously, pulse after pulse as you panting repeats itself as if you’re running a marathon.
gojo lolls out his long wet tongue against your pretty pussy, savoring your candied taste as he feels you roughly joggle against his mouth. hot puffs of pants fans against your folds as he chuckles, and he then starts to spank your pussy raw. one spank turns into two, then three, then four . .
you didn’t want him to stop anytime soon—his guzzling greedy sucks against your clit only makes you spasm out even faster. by now, you don’t even remember why you faked your orgasm because the real one was finally about to present itself. it’s coming to you like a tsunami wave, you can’t predict it but it’s preparing to crash into you all at once. the build up has you almost drooling before you grip onto his his meaty thigh.
“s-satoru— something’s hnghhh coming. oh my goddd,” and you’re trapped in a haze, yet gojo doesn’t stop there. he’s so offended that he doesn’t just make you cream on his fingers. he makes you squirt on them too, gushing out so much the that sheets are now all soaked thanks to you. whilst your tummy heaves, your legs feel all numb and not before long, he makes you squirt again. your jaw cutely sways itself open as you lie back on the mattress, feeling the few spurts trickle out of you slowly. “f-fuck,” you whine, and your voice is all strained and tiny.
gojo hums before he starts making out with your pussy. his eyes close as if he’s actually kissing you, each smooch sounds more sloppy by the second before he pulls out his fingers, sitting up to slide them into your mouth. “taste yourself baby. now thaaaat’s how you orgasm,” and as you take his digits into your mouth with droopy eyes, your tongue swirls all around his fingertips. as you moan amply from your own taste, he wrenches out his fingers before sneaking a two second kiss on your lips. “awww, don’t tap out on me now. you can give ‘toru one more, right?”
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inkskinned · 3 days
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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satoruluvies · 3 days
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standing on tiptoes.
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୨୧ summary. just as what the title suggests, you get on your tip toes to give satoru a kiss! gojo is completely lovesick and down bad, early stage in the relationship. its gojo's first too °u°
୨୧ desc. sweet sweet tooth rotting fluff because we all need this. 0.7k words from me to you beloved <3
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satoru thinks life has been gracious to him lately and he can't pinpoint what he did exactly to deserve this but he hopes he keeps doing whatever it is because he wants you around a long, long time.
satoru wouldn’t call himself a sentimental person but he can't help the soft feeling that pools in his stomach and spread through his chest when you look at him with your oh so mesmerising eyes.
even now, walking back home after a long day with both your hands intertwined and the gradient of the sunset painting the sky, his gaze still shifts to you in small glimpses, red spreading his pretty cheeks all the way to his ears.
“so i was absolutely… toru? are you listening?” satoru swears he was, he was listening to your voice so soothing to him that he forgot to comprehend the words that it formed.
“sorry, what was that again?” his hand found the back of his head sheepishly.
“is everything okay? something on your mind?” a worried expression finds itself on your face and satoru's eyes can't help but dart to your lips that were slightly pouting in confusion, a habit he notices you have.
“y-yeah… yeah no, everything's fine” he forces his gaze to look into your eyes but he couldn't help another glimpse at your soft lips, thoughts of kissing you clouding his mind.
would it be weird if he asked to kiss? are you supposed to ask? how early can you kiss someone in a relationship? would he be good at it?
satoru hadn't realised he was so obvious with his thoughts until he heard you giggle and if he thinks he can't get any more redder than he already is, he was wrong.
“are you sure?” your tone was clearly evident that you were teasing him and the way your head tilts to meet his wandering gaze sends his heart into a frenzy of thumps that he fears were loud enough for you to hear.
“yeah sure, very sure” satoru looks at everywhere but at you because he thinks he would either combust across the next planet or melt on the spot, he wasn't sure but something embarrassing would happen. that, he was sure.
what he didn't expect was instead of teasing him more, you closed the little distance that separated the both of you and slowly rised on your tiptoes, eyes focused on his soft lips. your right hand that were still intertwined with his left, stayed as they are while he waits for the contact of both your lips that never comes.
“help me out a lil won't you?” you chuckle. it wasn't your fault you still couldn't reach his lips even when you're on your tip toes, why did he have to be so tall anyway?
satoru chuckles back as he gets overcome with a sense of confidence at your own blushing cheeks. he leans down and wastes no time to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
your face crinkles in disappointment at the ghost of a peck on your lips and satoru thinks he accomplished the greatest thing ever knowing you wanted more of him.
he realises he would give you the world if you so ever asked. his hand find its way to caress your cheeks softly, completely lost in your eyes and hopelessly so in love.
he leans in and closes the infinity between the both of you, finally finally having a taste of your lips. it was as perfect as he imagined it to be, if not more.
he follows after your lips as you pull away, a soft whine leaving his plump lips you just kissed and you would have kissed him again if you weren't in public doing this.
“i think we've garnered enough stares and annoyed remarks” you laugh, he does too.
“hm i wonder where we can do this without any of that” satoru teases earning another chuckle from you. he thinks he can keep hearing it on repeat for the rest of his life.
“i don't know, you tell me” you shrug as you pull him by your hands that he realised haven't left his, it was so natural. everything was so natural with you.
in the comfort of your home, you in his arms and giving him all the kisses he could ever ask for, satoru thinks he's the happiest man in the world, even as far as the galaxy and expanding even further.
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jamminvroomvroom · 3 days
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congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”
how did it end?
ln x famous fem!reader
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in which it ends, until…
i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses
songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
4.1k words
one gasp, and then…
“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.
you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.
you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.
you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.
“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.
yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.
“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.
fittings, shoots, paris trip.
mhm.
swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.
cool.
week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.
no.
“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.
“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.
“i can’t go to the race. no.”
“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”
“you know i can’t-“
“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.
“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”
“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”
you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.
what if he already was?
-
look who we ran into at the shops,
walking in circles like he was lost
lando stares at the shampoo.
specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.
he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.
you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.
perhaps he had, in a way.
the basket grazes the outside of his leg.
that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.
there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.
oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-
“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.
“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.
“shopping.”
“for women’s shampoo?”
“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.
“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.
lando smiles weakly.
“i’ve been sleeping.”
alex sighs.
“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”
lando’s shoulders visibly sag.
“about a month ago.”
-
we hereby conduct this post-mortem
“we can’t do this anymore.”
the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.
“i know.” lando breathes shakily.
“i don’t want this but…”
“yeah.”
it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.
he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.
he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.
it’s too much.
“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.
“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.
your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.
you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.
when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.
“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.
“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”
you’re gone when he wakes up.
and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign
-
come one, come all
it’s happening again
the empathetic hunger descends
there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.
you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.
“so, what happened there, with lando?”
you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.
“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”
“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.
vultures. everyone is a vulture.
“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”
there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.
“we still have a lot of love for each other.”
translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?
-
lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.
he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.
god, why do you look fine?
he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.
“he’s a wonderful person.”
your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.
he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.
lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.
he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.
the deflation of our dreaming
leaving me bereft and reeling
my beloved ghost and me
sitting in a tree
d-y-i-n-g
-
your stylist is plying you with options.
you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-
you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.
what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.
visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.
you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.
when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.
i’ll try and keep my distance.
try.
try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.
should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.
you think i didn’t already know?
of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.
-
there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.
you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.
lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.
depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.
“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.
“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.
“forced?”
“‘m here for work.” you sigh.
“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.
“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.
“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.
“how are you?”
you want to touch him.
“shit.”
he needs a taste.
“yeah.”
you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.
you stand there, stare at each other.
take me home, you want to beg.
come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.
“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.
lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.
logic wins, unfortunately.
“thank you.”
you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.
-
it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.
you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.
you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?
you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.
the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.
“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.
he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.
you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.
dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.
-
say it once again with feeling…
the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.
the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.
he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.
you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.
“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.
“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.
“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“
“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.
he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.
“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.
“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.
“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.
your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.
lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!
you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.
“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.
home.
yeah, home.
“don’t make me wait.” you grin.
his brain short circuits.
“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.
you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”
-
you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.
you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.
he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.
the front door opens behind you.
you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.
“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”
“i came back for you.”
“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”
you nod. he kisses your neck.
“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.
you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.
-
shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.
“missed you. missed this.”
“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.
“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.
“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.
he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.
“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”
you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.
“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.
“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.
“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.
“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.
“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.
the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.
your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.
“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.
you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.
“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.
“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.
you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.
“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.
“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.
“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.
“can’t believe i lived without this.”
“can’t believe you’re all mine.”
the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.
“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”
your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.
you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.
home.
“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.
“hm?”
“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”
your eyes are watery.
“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”
“about that…”
lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.
you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.
“sit up.”
you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.
“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.
you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.
“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.
“bath?”
“you know me so well, noz.”
come one, come all
it’s happening again
-
oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me
-
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luveline · 2 days
Note
hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 
“You don’t have to go?” 
“What?” 
“You have rugby today.” 
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 
“So it’s definitely the battery?” 
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 
Your breath gets caught. 
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 
“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 
“What are your plans tonight?” 
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?” 
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 
“You come in different cars.” 
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
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soaps-mohawk · 20 hours
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment
Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,719
Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.
A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!
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You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life. 
Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly. 
Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room. 
It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to. 
One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips. 
“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him. 
He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand. 
“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!” 
“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.” 
All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit. 
“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him. 
“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.” 
You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you. 
His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly. 
“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.” 
You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment. 
“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.” 
He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window. 
All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all. 
You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you. 
You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts. 
Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you. 
Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day. 
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“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.
“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too. 
“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta. 
Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it. 
“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.” 
Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit. 
Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him. 
Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat. 
“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”
“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks. 
“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”
“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place. 
Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet. 
His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest. 
The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him. 
Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat. 
“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault. 
Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind. 
He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric. 
He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times. 
That's the one thing he can't be right now. 
“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.” 
Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him. 
It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control. 
Price can report that to the stupid initiative program. 
“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look. 
Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.” 
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“How are you doing?” 
“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.” 
“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?” 
You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.” 
“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you. 
“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?” 
“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.” 
“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.” 
“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.” 
She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.
“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.” 
You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first. 
“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.” 
You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said? 
What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack? 
“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly. 
“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask. 
Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.” 
“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already. 
That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though. 
Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair. 
The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though. 
“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.” 
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.” 
Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?” 
She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.” 
You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you. 
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“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room. 
You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room. 
Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.” 
Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you. 
“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing. 
His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.” 
“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time. 
“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.” 
You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid. 
You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected. 
“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny. 
“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.” 
“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. 
You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car. 
You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat. 
The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas. 
It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him. 
He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this. 
It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all. 
The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega. 
You could be, if he wanted it. 
You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.
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Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat. 
Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving. 
The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts. 
Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently. 
You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything. 
“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront. 
You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead. 
Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along. 
Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree. 
The answer is likely the latter. 
 You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop. 
You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping. 
You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options. 
Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene. 
“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about. 
Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head. 
Someone is staring at you. 
You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it. 
The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him. 
Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you. 
“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm. 
“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them. 
Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings. 
There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all. 
Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon. 
Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.” 
“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat. 
It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again. 
Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath. 
You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him. 
“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear. 
You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both. 
“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.
You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric. 
Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time. 
Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest. 
You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties. 
His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest. 
“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists. 
“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?” 
His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you. 
He looks like he would do it, too. 
Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?
His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel. 
Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels? 
You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack. 
Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways. 
All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you. 
Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing. 
Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack. 
Does he want to build that bond with you? 
Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop. 
You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips. 
You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store. 
Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he’s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time. 
You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him. 
“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car. 
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“We need to talk.” 
You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance. 
“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.” 
His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.
“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time. 
“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.” 
Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to. 
“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.” 
A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then. 
“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him. 
“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.” 
Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 
“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head. 
You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them. 
You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.” 
His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment. 
“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly. 
You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?” 
He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face 
Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you. 
You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon. 
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@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut
@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites
@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos
@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13
@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry
@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving
@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01
@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164
@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp
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rationaliity · 2 days
Text
voicelines about you | various ( i. )
the men's voiceline about you ! next will do a part of the women they're short because i wanted them to sound legit, which is why i did so many !! hope you enjoy anyways <33 this is all purely self indulgent because ill be real with you im not feeling very daijoubou rn
— DR. RATIO
about you : an incomprehensible yet enticing mess in the body of a person. i don't understand their way of thinking at all, and yet, it almost feels as if they understand me in a way few do. peculiar.
chat: his relationship with you : ..relationship is hardly the word i would use to describe our acquaintance. however, i suppose they are not completely inept, unlike many i have had the misfortune of coming across in my time.
added to team with you : take care of yourself. should i have to step in, i will do so to prevent some unfortunate happenstances.
— WELT YANG
about you : potentially one of the kindest individuals i have had the pleasure to be introduced to in my time of travelling the cosmos. a gentle soul like none other. they light up the world around them.
chat: his relationship with you : spending time with them has become a daily necessity for me. i find myself beginning to nag at the others when i have not spent enough time with them. march often asks me about them before anything else.
added to team with you : i appreciate your vitality, but try to take breaks whenever necessary.
— AVENTURINE
about you : quite the enigma, that one. before i even realized it, they had snuck their way into my heart. perhaps they were betting that i wouldn't notice, and perhaps.. it paid off for them.
chat: his relationship with you : they're the chip i hold closest to my chest. no.. a chip is the wrong comparison. they're the one thing i will always hold no matter the stakes of the bet. having them by my side is more important to me than any risk.
added to team with you : i'm willing to bet that the two of us together will make quite the team.
— ARGENTI
about you : the moment our eyes met, i knew they were someone of refined elegance, but i was wholly unprepared for the true beauty of their very being.
chat: his relationship with you : i feel the closest to idrila and the eternal beauty that i seek when i am with them. they bring out a fire in me that simply cannot be quenched by any other soul, as if i were a moth to their brilliant flame.
added to team with you : as usual, i find myself captivated by your beauty and grace, my dear.
— BOOTHILL
about you : i don't know another capable of runnin' things how they run things. they got my respect. well, much more than just my respect, but that ain't proper to say.
chat: his relationship with you : ain't nothin' like the nice feelin' of knowin' you're loved by someone no matter whatcha look like or what you're capable of. they've been there through it all, the bad, the ugly, and the muddle-fudgin' terrible.
added to team with you : well i'll be the son of a nice lady, if it isn't you ! let me take care of ya, sweetheart.
— BLADE
about you : they are the one clear thing i can see when the mara strikes. no matter how far gone i am, i see them - clear as the many sunsets i have seen. they are where the light meets the dark.
chat: his relationship with you : this eternal purgatory that i have been cursed with feels... less hellish when they are by my side. it is as if, for a moment, my body and my soul forget what i am. i can only believe this is their doing.
added to team with you : death comes to all, but now is not your time.
— DAN HENG
about you : they were persistent in trying to know me for who i was, not who i could've been. they are kind, more so than any other person i have come to meet. they are strong and gentle at the same time.
chat: his relationship with you : march is always telling me that i should be more forthcoming with my emotions, but they seem to understand me quite well no matter how little i speak up. i.. really appreciate and value their presence in my life.
added to team with you : i will stand by you no matter what comes our way, do not be afraid.
— GALLAGHER
about you : what a riot, they are ! their personality reminds me of the strongest and sweetest drink mixed in one delightful package. it's easy to get addicted if i'm not careful.
chat: his relationship with you : i didn't understand at first why they wanted to hang out with this old dog as long as they did, not that you'll find me complainin' or nothin'. they always seemed entertained by my stories, and i like listenin' to them yap, too.
added to team with you : have a drink, i'll take care of whatever you need me to, just say the word.
— JING YUAN
about you : fascinating, with so many stories to tell, it could keep me even busier than i typically am for hours. although i must say that i enjoy being occupied by them than by work.
chat: his relationship with you : in the middle of the mundane trivialities of life that i have grown so accustomed to with my job title, they bring an air of uniqueness and excitement into every encounter. i find myself eagerly awaiting the times we meet.
added to team with you : i trust you are able to take this on yourself ? if not, well, that's why i am here, no ?
— GEPARD LANDAU
about you : they are more carefree than i am, and while it worries me at times, i find myself drawn to their spirit nonetheless. i think i'm just drawn to those kinds of people, or they are drawn to me.
chat: his relationship with you : sometimes, i feel like i'm nagging at them, even when i don't mean to, but it's because i'm always worried about them. i know they can protect themselves but i wish they would let me do it for them more often.
added to team with you : protecting you feels just as important as protecting belobog. i will do so with my life.
— LUKA
about you : they're probably the only person in belobog who really get my passion. they give their all for everything that they do, and i'm down for it !
chat: his relationship with you : they're really good at both getting me fired up and a little more mellow, depending on what i need for the moment. they're like my personal hype man / cheer leader, and i'm theirs when they need it ! that's why we work together so well.
added to team with you : this is going to be over like that with the two of us on the same team !
— LUOCHA
about you : they are wiser than they let on, it's hard to fool them or pull the wool over their eyes. even when i think i've kept a secret close, they've long since figured me out.
chat: his relationship with you : they help me see things that i would otherwise miss on my own, broadening my horizons when i need more depth brought to me. i'm grateful for their intuition and their knowledge on the world around us.
added to team with you : combat may not be my forte, but should you need assistance, i will be at your side.
— SUNDAY
about you : they are the embodiment of the feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time, warming your soul as well. they are gentle, and pick up where i lack.
chat: his relationship with you : i do not believe i am deserving of one quite like them, but i have a hard time letting them go nonetheless. they deserve more than i can give, but that doesn't stop me from trying regardless.
added to team with you : whoever dares to lay a finger on you will be met with swift and strict punishment.
— SAMPO KOSKI
about you : a person of many talents, much like myself, although they're charging significantly less for their expertise - free. i keep saying they should, but they're adamant about being kind.
chat: his relationship with you : my partnership with them could be best described as, er, jointly profitable. i provide my excellent services, and they grace me with their presence and their wits and.. maybe i am getting the better end of this deal.
added to team with you : it's your best pal, sampo koski, at your service ! aren't you glad i'm here ?
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
Text
Big Bed III
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: There's a storm
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Magda wakes suddenly to the sound of thunder and she jolts.
It's quite a rude awakening and she groans loudly, pulling one of her pillows over her face.
It's kind of impressive how Pernille can sleep through it, still snoozing on the other side of the bed as another crash of thunder echoes through the house and rain pounds on the window.
Magda's used to the rain. She didn't live in London for years not to become desensitised to the sound of rain.
It's the thunder that always gets her. England was known to be fairly rainy but rainy didn't mean storms so thunder and lightning wasn't something that Magda was really good at tuning out.
She sighs, rolling over onto her other side as another round of thunder cracks in the sky.
So far, Germany was trying to make up for the lack of storms in Magda's life.
It was so unfair that Pernille could sleep through this when Magda can't.
She flicks on her bedside lamp, sitting up in bed and reaching for her phone. It's clear she won't be getting any sleep until this storm passes so she might as well get comfy.
Aimlessly scrolling on social media is easy so Magda occupies herself with that for a while before halting.
This is a thunderstorm.
You don't like thunderstorms.
You're a good sleeper most of the time, dead to the world like Pernille is but you've always had some kind of sixth sense when it came to storms, always somehow waking up before the first crash of thunder.
You waking up usually leads to you in the Big Bed but you're still in that weird in between where you've semi-weaned yourself off of it but still get in from time to time.
Magda shivers as she pulls back the covers, the early morning chill causing goosebumps to erupt all over her arms.
She's glad that she and Pernille had gotten a house that had carpet all over the upstairs because she's sure the chill of the floor would have been so much worse if it wasn't.
Regardless, she makes her way to your room, opening the door only slightly in case you actually are asleep.
You're not because your bed is empty and Magda can see you turning your nightlight on and off underneath the bed in time with the thunder rumbling.
"You okay there, princesse?"
You let out a little shriek of shock before Magda's temporarily blinded by you flashing your torch right in her eyes.
"'M fine, Morsa," You say though your voice is strained and you're very much not fine.
"Uh-huh."
It's a very tight squeeze and extremely embarrassing when Magda's bones pop but eventually, she drags herself under your bed with you.
"Why are we hiding?" She whispers, knocking her shoulders against yours.
"I'm not hiding!" You deny while you curl closer until you've practically wiggled your way under her.
"Okay," Magda says," So we're not hiding. What are we doing?"
With puffed up cheeks, you reply," Waiting for the storm to go."
"Okay."
Magda lies with you for a while. She didn't bring her phone with her but she knows it must be bordering on at least half an hour before she speaks again.
The rain hasn't let up and neither has the thunder and every time, you flinch and lean further into her.
"This isn't too comfortable," Magda says to you softly," Laying on the floor like this, is it?"
You shake your head.
"How about we head back to bed?"
Your head shakes even more furiously. The thought of going back to bed makes your tummy feel icky and bad. You don't want to go back to bed at all.
"No, I think we should," Magda insists and you whine.
"Morsa...Morsa, please no."
Magda crawls out from under your bed, dragging you with her before hoisting you up into her arms.
You expect her to tug you back into your bed, pulling your blankets all the way up to your chin and telling you soothing words.
But she doesn't though.
She keeps a hold of you while exiting your room, across the hallway and into her own.
Momma is a lump in the bed, fast asleep even though the storm hasn't let up yet and Morsa slides in, placing you in the space between her and Momma.
She takes your night light from you, setting it off to the side before fluffing up a pillow to slip under your head.
Magda leans forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Big Bed cuddles are always best when there's a storm going on," She whispers to you.
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screampied · 2 days
Note
I feel like Sukuna eats pussy the best in jjk (besides Geto). Like he'd be FEASTING till you're crying and shaking
꒰১ warnings. fem! reader, ōral (f receiving), mild dacryphila, eating from the back, impact play, he has a forked tongue
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whenever it came to pussy eating—sukuna ryōmen was just nasty,
with no shame whatsoever, he doesn’t care. all he really cares about is having you arched over the wooden leg of his throne, your ass all out and drinking out orgasm after orgasm out of you. he really knows no bounds— a starved man, he’d eat you out until there’s fat tears sticking against your naturally lengthy lashes. “o-oh my goddd,” you’d whimper out. not even seconds after, you’d just finish a release and he’s already delving his long tongue between your slick folds again. your taste makes him groan, he’s never had anything as sugary sweet as you. a sharp nail of his gingerly scrapes against the juncture of your curves as you arch forward. your mouth opens—pretty pink tongue unfurling as you’re just feeling the tip of his tongue wander to its hearts content. he’s messy, if it’s not dripping down his chin he doesn’t want it. you shudder, feeling him thrust his tongue in and out of your puffed cunt before he pries your thighs open further. you gasp, hearing him gather a nice amount of spit before it delivers right against your dripping entrance. “s-sukuna, you’re so nasty.”
“gotta be when your pussy’s this wet,” he huffs.
a thumb stroking down against your swollen slit. with a tongue skimming across his lips for an extra relishing taste, he rolls his tongue out all the way and you can even hear his throaty, ‘ah’ noises as he prepares to dive back in.
sukuna groans, feeling himself get hard just from pleasing you. with a rude spank, he speaks in a rough tone. “arch for me more. ‘m starved ‘n i need seconds.”
it’s not even long before the curse is nose deep. your pulsating folds were continuously being sucked and you already feel your tummy heaving. then texture of his tongue. the length, the forked structure of it all that repeatedly slurps everywhere inside of you makes your toes curl up. despite them curling, they were numb anyway so you felt practically nothing.
he’s snarling, fangs of his occasionally poking against your clit. sukuna chuckles as he feels your ass wriggle against his face, he brings a thumb towards your hood before he glides it across. “what a fuckin’ mess. jus’ can’t get enough, can ya?”
and with sukuna— he’s thorough.
and while you’re happily arched over for him, eyebrows bunched together into a cute furrow, he makes sure that his tongue licks every part of you. a wet, slippery trail from your pussy to your ass, even between the secluded inner crevices of your thighs. he’s greedy, he doesn’t like when you make an attempt to touch yourself. each time you try to play with your pretty cunt whilst he’s eating, he smacks your hand away, grousing a “don’t touch my girl.”
his girl— your pussy.
sukuna’s favorite thing to do would be to constantly spit on your folds, only to lap it up, then spit on it again,
bonus if he finishes eating you out, telling you to come here, then makes out with you so you can taste how much of a messy girl you were for him. he likes hearing you moan, the nibbling he creates against your slit has you sobbing profusely. with your own two hands, you feel against your mounds that were glued against your chest, rocking against his face as you feel yourself approaching the inevitable abyss of pleasure. a groan leaves his lips as your ass jerks against him, he’s gotta hold you still so he can savor this,
savor you..
with glistening reddened lips of his, sukuna briefly departs his mouth from your love palette and with crimson bloodshot eyes—his own lustrous saliva dribbles down between your slit, dragging a thumb to softly snake against your convulsing nub. your mouth stupidly dangles open that it’s almost comedic. you then feel a whimper die out your throat, rubbing your ass against his face, “kuna, ‘s good, right there pleasepleaseplease.” it’s only then when he snakes a hand between your thighs, prodding his fingers alongside your saturated pussy. the moment sukuna starts to maneuver tiny circles and shapes against your pussy, you were just about done for. the staticky friction from his palm going against your folds scratches such a lewd itch in your brain.
you’re going haywire—crazy for more of his touch. as years merely blinded you from how they were welling into your sockets, your voice becomes strained from your numerous whimpers. he sucks you so good, so much of your slick pours down his chin that it even starts to get into his kimono.
sukuna ryōmen was nasty,
but his tongue was even nastier.
it doesn’t miss a single spot, he’s all in the depths of anywhere and everywhere.
you chew your lip in salacious anticipation. unhurriedly, you rock back against his mouth as you feel his callused fingertips gripping against both parts of your ass, spreading it even further.
sukuna leisurely dips his tongue into you once more, it’s probably been the umpteenth time by now as he kisses against your clit. “mhm,” he’d hum to himself, your eyes were visibly rolling back. you saw nothing but darkness. as he’s bringing you closer and closer toward the edge. your nails grip against the arms of his throne, embedding into the hardened material before you whine, shimmery tubby tears forming above the outer corneas of your dilated pupils before you make a cute attempt at crawling away from his mouth but he drags you back.
“girl get the fuck back here. can’t have my meal runnin’ away now, huh.”
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mostly-imagines · 3 days
Note
ur jason makes me want to RAHHHH like i just want to wash his hair for him :(((
lexi my girl you're speaking my language
the first time it happens he is so tired. he's just gotten back from patrol and there's blood and dirt all over his armor and his hair is a tousled mess. his shoulders droop as he removes his suit and he can barely keep his eyes open but he's so dirty he has to shower but he's not sure he has the willpower to push his body all the way into the bathroom.
but you, the saving grace that you are, start running a bath for him before he's even fully stripped. he honestly doesn't even register the sound of the water running and can only think about how much he wishes he could sleep right now. so you take his hand and guide him wordlessly to the bathroom, and while he's grateful for the assistance, he still doesn't realize what you're doing until he sees the bath, completely full and welcoming.
you sit on the edge of the tub and he leans back against you, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. if he were slightly more awake he'd feel bad about getting your shirt wet because he's too exhausted to hold himself upright on his own, but right now all he can think about is how relaxed he feels. relaxation is far and few between for him and was bordering on impossible before he met you, so the fact that you have him sitting here so vulnerable, it's basically the equivalent to handing you his life.
you nudge him to sit up a bit further so you can scoop up handfuls of water and get his hair wet without it spilling onto the floor. the warm water feels amazing against his scalp and he squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation.
you squeeze out two pumps from your shampoo bottle, something he was silently hoping you would do because he loves that it smells like you. you spend longer than you need to lathering it into his hair, just wanting to be sure that you can get him as relaxed as possible (you're quite successful)
he tilts his head back as you rinse the suds out of his hair, smiling to himself when you bring one of your hands up to help support the back of his neck. you decide you'll save him of suffering through the wait of the extra step of conditioner and you hand him your best, fluffiest towel to dry off.
you sit up on the bathroom counter as you blow dry his hair on the low setting, careful not to let it get too hot on his head. he palms at your thighs the whole time like a stress ball, trying to fight the urge to rest his forehead on your shoulder.
his eyes are basically closed as you guide him back to your bedroom, climbing onto the bed and pulling him in after you. he collapses his head onto your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. his body is completely lax and he's barely able to mumble out a thank you when he feels you press a gentle kiss to his forehead before sleep finally takes him.
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mauvecherie-writes · 3 days
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save a horse, ride a driver: l.hamilton
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pairing: lewis hamilton x black!reader
summary: there was no way you were letting lewis leave the hotel room looking the way he did without taking a spin first. [shoutout to my fren for this summary 😂]
tags: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, sexual content, pwp, oral [m] receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, spanking, slight choking, slight dom!lewis, breeding kink if you squint.
notes: today really ruined me guys 🫠. I wrote this in a few hours lmao. This is for the nasty girls like me going through ovulation and were left feeling wrecked by this man. NOT EDITED
w.c: 1.8K
reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @xoscar03 @perfecttrashface @saturnville
Having some time off from work, you had decided to join your boyfriend in Monaco for the long race weekend. It was only Thursday so there was no need for you to accompany him to the trac with him. You were going to stay at the hotel and utilize their spa facilities before preparing for dinner with Lewis later.
As you finished using the bathroom, you could hear his team packing their belongings and leaving the room. Lewis had about another hour free before he needed to leave for the circuit if he wanted to be on time. This was the time, if you were together, you would share breakfast.
You walked out to the living room area and stopped dead in your stride when you saw Lewis standing in front of the mirror as he fixed his braids into a low bun.
“Holy shit.” The words slid out of your mouth as you gaped at him. He was dressed in an extremely low v-neck pale blue cashmere cardigan which left the golden brown of his tattooed chest exposed paired with wheat coloured waist fitted linen trousers. He wasn’t wearing the custom Dior sneakers just yet but the jewellery that had been laid out last night were now in the right places.
Lewis was a man of fashion, a common interest that had connected the both of you but it was days like this that reminded you how a well put outfit enhanced his beauty to another level. It amazed you how much his dress sense managed to raise your arousal.
He turned around to face you with a genuine smile that quickly transitioned into a smirk when he saw the glint of lust in your eyes.
”Hi baby.” He greeted you before walking to sit on the couch.
“Where do you think you’re going, looking like that?” You asked as you crossed the room.
“Like what?” He chuckled as he furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion.
“Like a slut! Who are you tryna get, looking this good.” A deep laugh burst from his chest as a light rosy tint touched his cheeks. He was used to your peculiar way of complimenting him but there were times where the comment would make his insides melt. He was a grown man and you still had the ability to make him weak in the knees with your unbridled attention.
“This is only for you baby.” Lewis spoke, gesturing to his body. “I’m all yours and only yours.”
“Looking like a five course meal and I’m ready to eat.” You said licking your lips before you dropped to your knees in front of him, between his legs. He looked down at you as you looked up at him, massaging his thighs and he knew what you were intending to do.
“Sweetheart, you know I need to be leaving soon.” He mumbled as he leaned down and pecked your lips
“Being late has never stopped you before.” You were rubbing your palm against his hardening dick beneath the fabric of his trousers. Lewis’s eyes fluttered close as he tried to be rational. You knew that he didn’t need to be so early, the circuit was a team minute boat ride - if need be, they’d wait for him.
“I’m not letting you leave this room without a taste. Let me enjoy you first before anyone else.” Whatever front that he had been attempting to put up, fell.
“You’re such a spoiled brat.” He sighed as he leaned back and placed his right arm on top of the couch. His other hand came to stroke the side of your cheek. He gazed down at you as he pressed his thumb against your lips. Once he slid his thumb into your mouth, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your tongue around the digit and suck on it hard.
Your eyes never left his as you moaned around his thumb, suctioning your cheeks as you would around his cock.
“Look at you, my pretty girl. You want it bad huh?” He softly spoke but the flare of his nose and the hardening of his dick under your touch showed how he was really feeling. Your arousal and raw desire for your man was causing an uncomfortable dampness in your underwear.
“Take my dick out.” The command made your body tremble with excitement as you unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him out. Seeing you hold him must have done something because, suddenly he leaned forward, curling his ringed fingers into your coils before he placed his lips over yours - bruising them in the process.
“Open your mouth.” He told you. And as you opened your mouth, he said. “Suck your dick, baby.”
You whimpered before you placed a soft kiss on the tip and caressed the rest of his length. You looked up at him as you slowly took him into your mouth until he was lodged at the back of your throat.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” With one hand, he took your hair into a ponytail as he determined the speed. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as he fucked your face - thrusting into your mouth as he pushed your head down on his length bringing you closer to his pelvis.
Your eyes were brimming with tears as you struggled for breath gagging on his dick. And you loved every second of it.
“You okay baby?” Lewis asked. His voice breathless but laced with concern at the state of tears staining your cheeks. You nodded your head and quickly drew him back into your mouth with your hand wringing his girth. You raised your eyes to meet his as you let him hit the back of your throat once more. The choking sounds you made had him twitching in your mouth.
“Goddamn, this fucking mouth.” Lewis hissed as you sucked on his tip causing the base of his spine to tingle. You made a swallowing motion which stimulated your throat to contrast and tighten around the tip of his dick.
“Fuuuucckkk me.” He groaned as he threw his head back, pushing you away.
You giggled as you pressed your hands onto his thighs and stood up. You placed your legs on either side of his hips and took his dick into your hand and the other hand moved your panties to the side. You rubbed his tip against your wet centre until he was drenched. Your eyes locked and despite his well put together outward appearance, you were unraveling him with your continuous teasing.
Lewis leaned forward and tugged at your thick coils in his hand to hoist your head backwards. The sting of the pull caused you to hiss.
“Don’t fucking play with me, YN. Ride this dick.” He sternly told you as he dragged his mouth down the column of your neck before biting onto your exposed shoulder. You moaned as you finally pressed the head of his dick on your entrance. You couldn’t stop moaning as you rotate your hips on his cock. Lewis’s hands came to your waist, guiding you down slowly on his thickness until he was nestled in deep.
He groaned, feeling your warmth all around him. He smacked your ass causing you to gasp. “This is what you wanted right? So take it.” He harshly whispered before he pulled you closer by your neck and captured your lips. No longer caring to be gentle, Lewis demanded. “Ride me.”
“Baby, you’re so big, wait -.” You pleaded but he slapped your ass cheek again, causing your pussy to clench around him.
You began to ride him. Hard.
You mashed your hips against his, rolling your waist back and forth so that he was touching every part of you intimately possible. Your eyes fluttered close as you arched your back as your walls rhythmically clenched around his dick. A guttural moan left your mouth as Lewis’s fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and fucked you harder.
“Fuck yes! Just like that!” Your voice quivered as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You started bouncing up and down his cock which left his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Every time you came down, Lewis would thrust his hips up - making your orgasm quickly rise within you.
“Don’t stop!” He breathlessly moaned. You shook your head before you leaned down and drew his bottom lip into your mouth before kissing him passionately.
“I won’t.” You whispered. You increased your speed. The sound of your flesh clapping - along with your moans echoed across the room. Sweat was beginning to line his forehead and roll down the sides of his forehead. The smell of your sex taking over your senses.
Lewis slammed into you with a desperation only you would know. His arms wrapped around your body and you dropped your head into his neck. Your teeth trapped his skin in between them as the familiar hot tingle at the bottom of your spine rose.
“I’m about to come baby. Fuucck, sweetheart I’m gonna come” He whispered, whimpering as you bounced harder.
“Come with me. Come inside me.” The accumulation of his dick pounding your sweet spot with your clit constantly brushing on his pelvis along with the commanding nature of his tone, you were done for.
Your nails painfully dug into his shoulders as you screamed, tensing as your climax erupted. Lewis’s mouth parted into a silent moan, pushing his face into your chest as you milked him for everything he had. Your breaths were ragged as Lewis collapsed back into the couch with you in his arms. You sighed into his chest before you turned your head and laid kisses on his damp skin.
“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” He mumbled as he rubbed your back beneath your nightie. The both of you laid there, your bodies feeling like melted butter. You didn’t need the spa anymore, you were taking a nap as soon as Lewis left.
“If you didn’t look so good, I wouldn’t have needed to ride you like this.”His laugh vibrated through your body.
“So it’s my fault now that you got turned on?”
“Yes! Next time wear a burlap sack or something. You know what, no - you’d somehow make that look good too.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss on the side of your forehead. “I apologise, I’ll be more ugly next time.”
INSTAGRAM |
therealyn
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therealyn Save a horse, ride a driver or whatever was said 🥵 and my mannn, thank you to my mannn.
view 2,344 comments
user818 This is so real of you actually 😂🤭
user121 Ma’am, this is a wendy’s
lewishamilton Can you stop🧍🏾
⤷ therealyn lewishamilton But if I remember correctly, you were telling me not to????
⤷lewishamilton therealyn 🤦🏾
user619 not them basically confirming what we’re all thinking in the comments 😩😫
user444 No because if Lewis Hamilton was my boyfriend, I would be behaving like this too.
charles_leclerc Now we know why he was so happy in the paddock today ..
⤷ therealyn charlesleclerc Happy to be of service 🫡
lewishamilton therealyn When I get back, I’m locking your phone away.
⤷ therealyn lewishamilton as if 🙄🤚🏾
user788 the fact you can see in the video when he’s in the garage, the exact moment he saw this post 😭.
ru’s letter💌: this is probably one of the fastest I’ve written and uploaded something 😂. I have such a thing for eye contact during sex I’m noticing 🤭.
566 notes · View notes
serafilms · 2 days
Text
FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS
part 2 of the golden quartet
art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader
summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k
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“What do you think?”
You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”
“What, you wouldn’t help?”
“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.
She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.
“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”
“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”
“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”
The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.
Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.
The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?
But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.
Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.
There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”
His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.
It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.
You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”
Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”
You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”
Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.
But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”
Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.
“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.
“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.
Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”
Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.
When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.
“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.
He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”
“Stare.”
“Sorry, I just—”
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”
You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.
“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.
“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”
You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.
There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.
“Sit. Please.”
He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.
“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”
You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’
There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.
“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”
Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”
“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”
He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”
The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.
The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”
Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.
“Can I?” Art whispers.
“Please,” you respond.
His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.
Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.
Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.
Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.
Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.
“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”
Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”
Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”
Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.
“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”
She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”
“So like, if I win?”
“You don’t have to win to play well.”
You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.
In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, I was—”
Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.
“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.
“Hi.”
“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”
Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”
“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.
“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”
Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”
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SIX WEEKS LATER.
God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.
“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.
“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”
Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.
“You should take this off.”
“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so­ like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”
“You can wear his jacket instead.”
There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.
“You think he’ll offer?”
Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”
“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”
“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”
You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”
“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”
She’s right about that one.
Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”
“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”
She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.
You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.
Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.
(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.
“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)
So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.
But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.
When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.
Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.
One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.
Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.
The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.
“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.
“Hi,” you speak softly.
There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”
You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Shall we?”
You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”
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“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.
“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”
“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.
He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”
“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.
“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you
You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”
“Physics. Or engineering.”
Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.
“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.
“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”
“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”
“You’d be right.”
Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”
Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.”
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You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.
Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”
He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.
“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.
He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”
Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.
“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.
“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.
Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”
The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”
You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.
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Your computer pings.
Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.
You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’
A minute later, there’s another notification.
Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.
665 notes · View notes
cheriladycl01 · 3 days
Text
First time - Lando Norris x Innocent! Reader
Plot: Lando finds out his girlfriend is more innocent than he ever thought and that turns him on hard core.
Warnings: SMUT Innocence Knik etc MINORS DNI 18+
Credit to princemick for the GIF
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When Lando first started dating you he knew you were pretty innocent and oblivious to the world around you.
The first time he noticed it was when he first met you. You were in a club and he sat back watching you the whole night, run around like mother hen after your friends who ... arguably weren't being good friends to you and were using you as their sober ride home.
You were making sure your friends had clean drinks straight from the bartender and handing them tissues or hand gels when they touched anything dirty.
Your friends had left you that night, leaving Lando to take the opportunity to come and introduce himself. He wasn't shocked to find out this was your first time in a club, that you hated it and wanted to go home.
"So, what brings you to Monaco?" he'd asked you and you gave him this big gummy grin that he couldn't help but fall in love with.
"My friends and I are on a girls trip celebrating graduation!" you answered, trying not to yell incase the music went quiet but loud enough so he could hear.
"And that's why they've all abandoned you?" he chuckled walking you over to the bar.
"Yeah, I think they just have different ideas of fun than I do, we saw some really beautiful museums earlier which was my idea!" you smile thinking back to the earlier part of the day which you had favoured.
"Drink?" he asks you and you smile nodding your head.
"I'll have a Coors again and ..." he says naming his beer before looking at you.
"I'll just have a Spite please!" you order in French from the bartender who smiles at you.
"You can order something more expensive like alcohol i don't mind!" he smiles down at you, only for you to shake your head.
"I erm, don't drink! I've never drank alcohol actually!" you smile, pretty proud of you lifestyle.
"Yeah, I used to say I didn't drink and then my friends introduced me to it. Never been the same since!" he frowns in a joking manner making you laugh.
"You're funny!" you giggled.
You guys talked for the rest of the night, until it was the closing hours of the club and you had to part ways.
He'd regretted not getting your number.
The next time he met you was a complete coincidence. He was travelling around and caving in Vietnam. You were there building sustainable housing on your year after graduating. He knew it was you right away and everyone was so confused when he went running of to go say hello to you.
After that he got your number. He had to secure it after a second chance of meeting you which he'd been considering was gods gift to him.
After a few dates and texting back and forth for a while you started dating.
"Y/N, can we talk about something serious?" he'd asked you and you nodded coming to sit next to him on the sofa in his apartment.
"Yeah what's wrong?" you ask him with a frown thinking you'd done something wrong.
"How would you feel, about becoming my girlfriend..." he asks before presenting you with a little gift bag in papaya orange that had chocolates, flowers, a little card and a pair of expensive Cartier earrings. Not that you knew that until you got back to the hotel you were currently staying in and opened them up.
"Oh my! Yes! Please" you replied happily and he was trying so hard not to laugh at your super polite and formal answer to his ... well what now felt like a proposition
You were so happy and getting to spend time with Lando was everything! You came to races and everyone adored you, not just the people in McLaren with Lando but all the TV presenters, the fans and the other teams.
Lando was confused that after having dated for three months you hadn't done anything within a sexual nature. Not that it was an issue for him but he was just used to his girlfriends being bold and upfront compared to you, who was a little shyer and more reserved.
He knew he just needed to be a grown up and talk to you about it but he didn't think he could have this conversation with you. It felt wrong almost.
"Baby, can we talk?" Lando says patting the sofa while you were in the kitchen starting to prep for the lunch you were going to make the both of you.
"Yeah, what's wrong? Did I do something?" you ask looking at him carefully and taking a seat next to you.
"No, no not at all. It's kinda the opposite actually!" he laughs at his own joke not thinking you'd take notice of it.
"I haven't done something? I - did i forget to do my dished? I'm so sorry if i did!" you say looking back to the sink frantically thinking you'd missed your glass of orange juice and bowl of cereal you'd had this morning.
"No no, and don't think of it that way. I was just joking around - erm, I just wanted to say we've been dating for a while now and I was hoping we could start to be more intimate?" he asks holding your hand and your eyes widen and your cheeks redden.
"I- erm" you start to stutter and he rubs his thumb over your hand.
"We don't have too... if you don't want too! But I just wanted to ask!" he rushes out not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
"It's just that ... I've never ever done anything like that!" you say looking at him with those innocent doe eyes that made him go crazy.
"Like never ever?" he asks in shock, you were a gorgeous girl and even when he was out with you, guys would always be coming up to you, making conversation and flirting with you.
Now that he thought about it, you never actually could tell when you were being lightly flirted with. You were very oblivious too all moves guys made, unless they were literally asking for you number.
"Mmmm no, I mean ... you know you're like my first boyfriend right?" you ask him, cocking your head to the side.
"Wait, you've never been with anyone else other than me?" he asks, and fights to keep the smirk off his face. There was something so dirty, about the fact that you were so pure and untouched, and that it turned him on that he would be the first, and hopefully last to show you everything he could.
"No" you whisper and he looks at you, before cupping your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.
"Will you let me show you, everything I want to?" he asks looking at you, brushing some of your hair behind you so he has full view of your collarbone.
"Yes..." you breathe out, feeling flutters in your stomach at both his words and actions.
"Now?" he asks with a little gulp, hoping the answer would be a yes.
"Yes, show me now Lan!" you say, climbing onto his lap getting excited about the actions to come.
"Okay, baby. Lets slow down" he laughs holding you in place. He shifts about so he's comfortable and starts to run his hands over your body. Little goosebumps rise to the surface coating your arms as his fingers roam across your collarbone, down over your clothed boobs and down until he had a firm grip on your hips.
"As much as I like your wearing my shirt baby, I'm going to take it off you now, is that okay?" he asks looking you in the eyes and you nod, looking down a little intimidated by the intense eye-contact.
"Words baby, you gotta tell me" he smiles at you and you smile.
"Yes, you can"
And he does, he fingers brush against you and a groan comes out of his mouth as he see's what he's been missing out on seeing. Your perky tits were currently clad in an orange coloured bra. He didn't know if that was a normal colour for you or if you'd brought it since dating the McLaren driver.
"You are so fucking beautiful" he says looking at you, teasing against the straps of your bra before slowly pulling down each of them, before reaching round the back and unclasping it so it fell off you.
In reflex your hands came up, to cover your exposed chest, it wasn't something you were used too.
"I want to see and touch baby, please let me!" he says softly.
You felt comfortable and confident enough with Lando that you felt like you could show this part of yourself to him, a part that no-one apart from you had seen.
The moment was getting more and more intimate as his hands started to fondle your boobs, pinching squeezing and kneading. Lando learning what you liked from the noises you were making as he continued.
The more intimate it got, the hotter and more impatient you got with the new sensation in you stomach and the slickness and heat building between your legs.
Naturally, your body is craving friction. Your mind is going haywire not really knowing what to do to get the relief its craving. So your body automatically started to grind down on him, and you could feel just how excited he was getting with the large bulge building in his sweatpants.
You could tell it was something he liked too from the little whines and groans that came out overtime pressure was applied.
"I- I want to make you feel good. But I don't know how" you offer and he nods.
"Do you want me to show you?" he asks and you nod. He takes your hand and starts to help you palm him through his joggers, breathy moans coming from him.
"That's it, and when your ready you can take them off" he breathes out softly, not wanting to rush you into anything.
You take him out of his jogger, having a grip on him that was tight and he couldn't help but moan at the sensation.
"That's it baby. Now just run your hand up and down in a fisting motion!" he says, but you make no move to start, his head that was thrown back raises to look at you in question.
"Can you show me?" you ask, wide eyes and he nods, taking your hand that was around him in his as he helps you start to move up and down, showing the pace and grip that he liked. His moans were constantly flowing out now as he let go to grip the edges of the sofa and lean back. You started to go a little faster, before slowly right down and placing a kiss on his cheek.
"I heard... from friends that you really like when we use our mouths?" you ask and look at him.
"You dont have to if you don't want to" he groans.
"I- will you enjoy it?" you ask.
"I think i'd enjoy anything you did to me"
"Then i want to do it" you nod and he sits up a little more.
"Okay, get on your knees baby..." he directs and you get to the floor in between his legs.
"You want my help?" he asks and you nod, he takes your hair into a ponytail to keep it out your face.
"Okay, open baby. Remember no teeth baby, it hurts!" he smiles and you start by what you thinks right and go straight in. You gag a little and he pulls you head back from the grip.
"No need to rush hunny. Just start with the head, and then you'll feel a vein on the underside that always feels good, okay? But don't rush to fill your mouth up okay?" he chuckles a little bit as he watches you listen to him.
You start with small movements around his tip, moving your tongue over his slit where pre-cum is leaking out. It was a strange taste that the first few times had your eyes screwing but you slowly got used to it.
You run your tongue along the underside feeling the throbbing vein he was talking about and he went crazy, moaning above you and desperately trying not to thrust up.
You slowly take more and more in your mouth and what you cant fit you decide to use your hands to cover the rest and use the movements you were doing earlier.
"Holy fuck! Are you sure you havent done this before baby?" he asks in shock of how good it feels. Maybe it was just because he was so in love with you that it felt 10x better than he ever had, or maybe you were just a quick learner and good at observing what he liked.
A minute later and he was coming into your mouth, you were quick to swallow all of him and leave his dick with a string of saliva attaching you together.
"Fucking hell baby" he smiles pulling you up onto his lap resting you on top of him, your knees either side of him.
"Was that good?" you ask, shyly. He can only nod as he catches his breathing.
"Your turn!" he smirks, one had on your hip the other one inching up your inner thigh under the skirt you were in. His hands starts to rub your clit through your underwear, and he smiles as your head falls into the crook of his neck and he can feel your breathing pick up against him.
His fingers curl round the edge of your panties pulling them to one side rubbing his fingers through your wet folds.
"Is this all for me baby!" he asks using his free hand to run through your hair as you keep your head in the crook of his neck rocking against his movements. His fingers eventually find there way in, the stretch a little painful at first.
"It's okay, it'll start to feel good in a minute" he says rubbing your back comfortingly.
"Tell me if i should stop yeah?" he asks and you just nod before quickly shaking your head, realising that may have come across as you want him to stop when you really don't now that a coil is building in your stomach and his fingers are feeling incredible inside you.
"Lando!" you whine starting to kiss along his neck and jaw, needing to occupy yourself with something to focus on the growing feeling inside you.
"Fuck baby, the things you do to me!" he exclaims feeling himself get hard again from the whole intimate situation occurring.
In seconds you're letting that coil go, not being able to hold it in any longer and gushing over his fingers. He pulls them out, taking them into his mouth, licking them clean groaning at the taste of you, his gorgeous girlfriend.
"I gotta have a taste of you baby!" he practically whimpers out, before laying you on the sofa and spreading your legs open. You shyly try to shut them but he just tuts.
"Lemme baby please!" he says softly and he stop resisting against his hands. He dives in, nipping and licking at the parts he knows are most sensitive, before devouring you as if your a five course meal. It felt incredible, better than his hands and you legs were shaking the whole time.
Your mind was fuzzy and you could only let out little swear words and his name to let him know just how good he was making you feel.
And only minutes later and you were releasing into his awaiting mouth where he fully cleaned you up. He draw back, a small sheen on his nose and corners of his mouth from your release that had you blushing.
"Lets finish this in the bedroom yeah?" he asks and you nod eagerly as he picks you up tossing your over his shoulder, giving your arse a light tap on the way out that had you giggling and squealing.
He places you gently on the bed hovering over you. He starts to take the rest of the clothing that was left on you off and chucking it to the floor before he starts to take his own off. He reaches into the bedside draw, grabbing a condom and opening it with his teeth before rolling it on.
"You are so beautiful baby! Are you ready?" he smiles, now lining himself up with your entrance. You hesitate for a split second, before remembering its your incredibly kind and beautiful and caring boyfriend Lando above you right now who wouldn't dream of hurting you.
"Yes" you nod, and he slowly starts to push himself into your warm, wet caverns. He moans at the tight feeling of you, kissing across your neck and collarbone trying to help you un-tense a little.
"Baby, you gotta relax" he guides you, starting to play with your boobs to get you feeling good. He pushes in a little more when he feels that you arent tensing as much and you sigh.
"Woah, your so big!" you exclaim, thinking he'd bottomed out from the stretch as you try regain your breath.
"Baby... hate to break it to you but I'm only halfway inside you" he laughs with a chuckle, nearly loosing his balance on his forearms that he is using to hold himself steady above you.
"What?" you ask opening your eyes too look at your laughing boyfriend.
"Thank you for the compliment though baby, that makes me feel really good about myself" he says honesty before he pushes the full way in, finally bottoming out. You wiggle a little trying to get comfortable before giving him a nod where he starts to move in and out of you.
It starts to progressively feel better and better to the point where you can start meeting his thrusts to make it a little quicker. The sounds in the room are anything but innocent, both of your breathy moans and your high pitched whines when he reaches in between you to rub circles on your clit and the sound of slapping skin.
"Lando fuck! I love you" you cry as the pressure builds up and up.
"I fucking love you too" he breathes out, his thrusts coming a little sloppier.
And soon your both releasing at the same time as he pulls you in closer to him, almost laying all his weight on you.
"I'm like so glad we had that talk!" Lando laughs pulling himself up to look at you.
"Me too, I cant wait for you to show me more!" you grin pulling him into a kiss making him groan and grab the pillow to put over his face. He was exhausted but ... round 2 sounded like a shout.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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gojoest · 18 hours
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[11:05pm]
MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (you’re married), calls you “love”, “baby” + “my beautiful wife”, reader wears a dress, fingering, brief masturbation (satoru, while fingering you), takes you against the wall, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, not proofread, wc: 1.7k
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satoru’s been having a hard time keeping his hands off you, looking for ways to get into your pants all day.
but alas, you both have been busy organizing the housewarming party — picking up decorations for your new house, putting them up to create a festive atmosphere, dealing with caterers all day and eventually the party itself and entertaining your guests.
towards the end of the night, he was running out of patience. you could tell by the way his hands were constantly clutched around your waist, pulling you closer against him and subtly rubbing himself on your ass, and also the few hints he gave you here and there (every 5 minutes) to go help him find something (release) in the storage room. to you, he’s always been an open book.
“fucking finally”, closing the door after seeing off the last few guests, satoru sighs with content.
“that’s so rude, satoru”, you nag at him.
stepping closer to you, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. his other hand circling around your waist and stopping at the small of your back to press your body against him. “what’s rude is making me wait so long. i’ve been hard all day, it hurts”
“my bad”, you grin at him innocently, finally giving in after an entire day of resisting his desperate attempts. you hug your arms around him, “what can i do to atone for my bad behavior?”
“let me think”, he gives you a rascal smile before pulling you in for a kiss. his lips soft but dangerously desperate and yearning for yours, mashing against your mouth as he slowly walks you against the wall. ass and back pressed against it and with him in front of you, it feels like you’re now squished in between two walls with nowhere to run. not that you complain at all, and not that he’d hear you even if you did. all he can think about right now is how badly he wants to be inside your tight pussy, stretching you until he bottoms out.
“lift you dress up for me, baby. i’ll handle the rest”, he whispers, the lust thick in his voice.
“here? in the hallway?”, you blink at him.
“yea”, he swipes his tongue across his lips, “i’m afraid, i can’t wait till we reach the bedroom. we were bound to christen the hallway sooner or later anyway”
scoffing at him, you push him back. slowly riding the dress that’s tightly wrapped around your body up.
the sight of you giving access to your cunt for him to fuck drags a long groan out of him. he always loved watching you get undressed for him, it tranced him. but there was something very, very special about you pulling your little dress or skirt up for him to hit it while you kept the rest on. it was so dirty, but in the best possible way. turned him primal, made him lose his mind every single time.
“s-shit…”, he groans once again, his hands working on unbuckling his own slacks all while watching you rid yourself of the underwear and toss it on the floor. “you’re making me crazy, baby”, he whispers audibly, to which you smile. it was cute to watch him crumble like that.
you lean against the wall, observing the way he slides down his pants to his hips and then, with a quick swift move, whips his swollen cock out and it slaps against his belly. what a beautiful sight, what an obscene sound, you think. it makes you shudder. being painfully familiar with how good and even more massive it feels inside your tight pussy, you find yourself clenching on emptiness, eagerly anticipating him.
he steps close, one hand slowly stroking his cock and the other reaching in between your legs, fingers in seek of your heat. “so pretty. so soft. so wet for me already”, he quietly speaks into your ear as a thick digit slides into your weeping cunt.
“nghh..”, you flinch and step on your toes from the sensation of his finger, squeezing him unintentionally.
“is that not enough for my baby?”, he coos. “then how about another one?”, he pulls his finger out only to return with two of them. “better? mm?”
“stop teasing me, you idiot”, you nuzzle your head against his chest to muffle your moans, hands grabbing at his shoulders.
“does this translate to ‘fuck me properly’, hm? my beautiful wife wants my cock so bad?”, he teases even further, plunging his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. the hallway filled with loud squishing noises from his fingers fucking you. if anyone were to walk by your front door, you’re pretty sure they would hear the inappropriate sounds your pussy made.
“don’t act all high and mighty on me now”, you tap on his shoulder, then grab him harder to support yourself as you press and hump against his hand. “i know you want to fuck me properly too, you’ve been yearning all day. no?”, you lift you head to look up at him. “just look at yourself — so desperate for it that you’re wanking off both of us yourself”
he chuckles at your words. true. as his fingers fucked themselves deep inside you, his other hand moved in slow strokes around his cock. he had to go slow, because he was way too aroused. if he were to pick up the pace, he’d unload his balls and blow his cum right then and there.
“it’d be such a waste if you finished now…”, you stroke his cheek, “while you have the option to stuff me full”, knowing well he wouldn’t resist your words.
“you’re so manipulative, love”, his fingers slam harder for one last time, making your whole body jerk forward, before he pulls them out, covered and glistening with your arousal that he cleans with his mouth. “always getting under my skin…”
you shoot him a victorious smile which he wipes off with his lips. part of him embarrassed that he caved in so quickly, falling weak to his desire of you. he wanted to tease you a little bit longer, but you always had your way with him. making his resolve crumble with a single word.
“…but i’ll get under yours now”, breaking the kiss, he whispers. then bends a little to catch your leg in the crook of his arm, stands straight and lifts it, opening your thighs wider while your leg dangles in the air. the head of his cock taps against your belly and you feel the pulse throbbing in it.
the only support you have right now is your other leg, the wall behind you and satoru who holds you in place. both of your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, as he starts guiding his cock towards your entrance, his head slowly slipping inside.
“oh god” — you both simultaneously moan out. a deep groan follows shortly after and vibrates through his throat and into your mouth from feeling you open inch by inch for him as he slides it almost entirely in. he needed to go deeper though, the root of his cock still out and uncovered by your walls.
he pulls out and grabs your other leg into his arms, hoisting you into the air and pressing you harder against the wall while you hold on tight to his shoulders. after looking down and catching a glimpse of your dewy pussy lips pouting open for his cock, he throws his head back and curses under his breath, desperately trying to hold in the load in his balls. he shuts his eyes close and counts to ten, then looks back at you. eyes lovesick, yearning and a little bit watery. “what you do to me is not humane at all”
“hmm, don’t you love it?”, you crane your neck enough to press your forehead against his, looking deep into your favorite pair of eyes.
“oh, i do. i so do love it”, he breathes out, staring back at yours. then takes a deep breath before he enters you again. spreading your lips and diving deep until he bottoms out in you in a single thrust. you’re so wet and welcoming, his cock goes all the way in effortlessly. the position being perfect, too, to fully hide himself in you.
your legs lock around his back as his pelvis starts rolling and jarring against you, panting breaths of pleasure and skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the hallway of your house. satoru’s hips were charging with such desperation, slamming against you so hard, that you were sure the places where his flesh met yours were already red.
“nghh…”, you mewl through gritted teeth, feeling yourself starting to cum as you suck him as deeply as possible, your wetness increasing now and bathing his cock in it. “…d-don’t stop, d-don’t…augh”
“f-fuck…you say that as if it’s easy, baby. do you have any idea how good you feel?”, he barely drags out. your added slickness making it hard for him to control his thrusts now, too difficult to adapt and stop his cock from sliding in and out of you too quickly that his legs start shaking.
seeing him so desperate and sloppy with his movements was such a turn-on, it was really doing it for you. not that his cock wasn’t hitting the sweetest of your spots. but that was the last push you needed towards your climax.
“i’m— ah, i’m cumming”, you stutter, your orgasm coming onto you hard. head falling in the crook of his neck, nails digging into his clothed shoulders, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting his cock into your sore cunt, chasing his own release.
“s-shit—“, he grunts throatily. his cock feeling bigger, more bloated and harder than ever as he pounds a few more times into you before burying himself still and emptying his balls into your sopping hole. hot spurts of cum gush inside you, his body jerking after each load.
both of you stand there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breaths — you’re still wrapped around him while his cock’s got you nailed against the wall.
“you think i can carry you to the bedroom without pulling out? it should work, right? my cock’s big enough, won’t slip out”, satoru breaks the silence.
“you flexing now?”, you chuckle. “why don’t you give it a try? i don’t feel my legs anyway”
“oh my, did i make it hard for you to walk?”, he sneers at you proudly.
“oh shut up and carry me”
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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Hey queen what about a lil fic of reader with one of the boys (u can pick whoever!!) where it's her first healthy relationship and May be she thanks them for being nice and he's just like ummm I don't wanna be mean to u
Thanks for requesting lovely!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You have a habit of complaining into the void. It’s not the first text you send James griping about your day at work and it likely won’t be the last, but you’re surprised when the result is him turning up at your desk with flowers and a coffee. 
“James,” you say dumbly, looking up in absolute astoundment as he sets the flowers carefully by your keyboard and bends down for a kiss. 
“Hi, angel.” James presses the coffee into your hand. Spots the empty desk next to yours and, with a quick glance around, steals the chair, sitting beside you. “Are you still on your lunch break?” 
“I—yeah.” Your brain can’t quite make sense of him at your work. It’s like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the store. James, with his casual clothes and easy smile, doesn’t belong in this place. “I’ve got twenty minutes left. What are you doing here?” 
“You seemed like you were having a rough morning,” he says simply. “I thought I might see if I could come and make you feel a bit better—don’t worry, I brought supplies.” 
He shrugs out of one strap of his backpack, swinging it around onto his lap and pulling out a small vase. James seems too distracted to have noticed your stupefaction. 
“Do you have a sink around here?” 
You point him towards the break room and he hurries off, returning a minute later to arrange your flowers in the vase. 
“I know it might be silly,” he says, as he works with a care that belies his words, “but I was thinking that if I was stuck in one place all day, it might help me to have something nice to look at. I considered getting you a mirror, but I thought you may have grown used to that particular sight so I ought to mix it up.”
James glances up to catch your reaction to the last bit, dimples appearing when you fluster. As he sits back down, his gaze roams your workspace, largely empty as most of your coworkers have gone to lunch. He swivels the chair from side to side absentmindedly, his knees brushing yours with each pass. It feels like someone striking a match. 
“I didn’t know you had so few windows in here.” He blows out a breath. “We should hit a park or something after you’re off tonight, get you some time in the sun.” 
“That sounds nice,” you say, lifting the coffee in your hand to your lips reflexively. 
It’s not until you register the taste that you think to look at the logo on the cup. It’s from your favorite coffee shop, the one with only one location, which you almost never go to because it’s so far from where you work and live. 
“James,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “did you go all the way across town to get this?” 
“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head sideways to rest it on his palm. “That’s the one you like, right?” 
“Yeah, but…” You shake your head, grinning. “You’re crazy,” you say, when you mean to say You’re incredible. 
“Crazy for you.” He makes a disgusted face as he says it, laughing at himself. You can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
You remember a time, not so long ago, when you would have felt lucky if the person you were dating responded to your texts at all. James has responded in person, with kind words and gifts and a thoughtfulness that’s going to brighten not just the rest of your day but your week. You’ve no idea what to do with this much sweetness. 
You shake your head again. “Thank you. Seriously, I—this is too nice. You’re so—” You lean forward, running your forefinger over the stubble on his jaw as you peck him on the lips. His smile leaps up on his face. “You’re so sweet to me, Jamie. Thank you.” 
“I don’t mind, sweetheart, really.” James palms the back of your elbow, his touch trailing down to your wrist as you pull away. “I like doing things for you. You deserve it.” 
You smile at him, letting the sincerity in his voice warm your chest. “Nobody’s ever been this nice to me before,” you admit. 
James’ expression heavies slightly, a divot forming in between his brows. You feel embarrassed for having said it. You don’t mean to sound self-pitying, you only want James to understand how much you appreciate him, how unprecedented he is for you. 
He smooths his thumb over the hairs on your arm. “I want you to be happy,” he says, a carefulness to his words that’s so unlike his usual quick, energetic way of speaking. “Angel, I’ve got no reason to be anything but nice to you, because it makes me happy to see you happy. It’s like—” He glances away from your face for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “Like I’m getting to see you the way you’re supposed to be, does that make sense?”
He looks to you for confirmation. You can only stare back at him in stunned silence, horrendously in love and falling deeper by the second. James must find whatever he’s looking for in your expression, though, because he gives your wrist a friendly squeeze and goes on. 
“You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be treated nicely, no matter who you’re with, but I’m happy to be the person who gets to treat you that way.” He lifts his eyebrows as though to be sure you’re listening, lips quirking slightly. “And you’re nicer than nice to me, so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about bringing you flowers and a coffee being too nice. Got it?” 
Your face is a furnace. You don’t know how to respond. 
James grins, looking ten percent smug and ninety percent smitten. “Say okay, sweetheart.” 
“Okay,” you echo, unable to help breaking into a smile of your own. “Thanks.” 
James groans. He grabs the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him until your knees are on either side of his. “Enough with the thanks,” he chides, more laughter than irritation in his tone. “Those other people sound like assholes, lovely. We’ve gotta up your standards.” 
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okwonyo · 3 days
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being asked out in front of them.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader seven hundred non-idol au fluff established relationship + cw. not proof-read skinship kissing ( other )
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heeseung would definitely be the jealous type, but he would try to not overdo it. would watch the scene from a little behind you; eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed while he watches the stranger talking to you. would come wrapping his arms around you after you tell the stranger that you have a boyfriend, would pull you a little bit closer to you while he makes eye contact with the other and a little smirk would toy on the corner of his lips.
jay would be more worried about your discomfort that anything else. would hold your waist, drawing you closer to his circle of warmth. would lean closer to you, until his lips brushes against your ear, barely paying any attention to the individual in front of of the both of you. “is he bothering you?” he would ask you, and it would make you giggle, comically reminding you of those scenes of in movies. then the stranger would eventually fade in background at some point.
jake would be flabbergasted — his eyes would grow wide when he sees a stranger talking to you, with a look plastered on their face that he wouldn’t appreciate at all. this whole situation would utterly convince him that he cannot leave you alone for two seconds, given the fact that he stopped being clingy to look at some t-shirt and this would happen right after. there is no way he wouldn’t be all over you after.
sunghoon would notice a pair of eyes lingering too much on your features for his own liking, the moment it starts. would watch the stranger hit on you without little to no shame at all, you would be able to feel his glare from where you are, which is a few meters ahead of him. “what was that?” he would ask you when you come back to him, eyebrows furrowed as he watches the stranger from afar. “me? ... jealous? of course.”
sunoo would be so shocked, what do you mean it’s not evident that you two are a couple? would give the stranger the most disgusted grimace ever, scanning the individual’s figure from up to down and confusion would grow in him as the realization of the situation does too. his expression would quickly transform into a cheesing smile when you reject the stranger’s advance— would happily walk around with you with his hand in yours.
jungwon would gape at you when the stranger comes to you, with his arm around your waist, you would be able to see multiple questions marks appearing above his head when you two make eye contact. would nod along while you reject the stranger, his eyebrows going up in a charming manner he isn’t even aware of, clearing his throat when the offer is asked for a second time: just to make sure he is acknowledged here. would give you a soft kiss in front of the unknown individual, smirking against your mouth.
riki would totally just stand behind you, close still, his tall frame towering over yours and, most definitely, staring at whoever is asking his girlfriend out right in front of his face. as ridiculous as it sounds, would be extremely relieved when you reject the stranger, he wouldn’t be able to tell you why but he would be happy. would be smiling smiling so widely for the rest of the day and might even lay in bed while kicking his feet in the air while he thinks about it.
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have this as i prepare some heeseung boyfie texts ><
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