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#just watching shit go down from above
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i am officially, FINALLY all caught up again in both the manga and the anime for bsd and OH BOY there are thoughts and opinions but also WHO CARES because my tags are finally FREE to be unfiltered
#hnnnnnn#i am SO happy#i am BEYOND happy#i love the arc even if i complain about it a lot#but i am also hnnnnnn…….displeased……..with a few things#the anime fr about to catch these hands#i already KNEW they were rushing it from the few episodes i had watched#but the anime is usually SO good at pacing#that i fully trusted that certain things would be slowed down for significance/impact/etc#but instead the pacing just stayed WAY too fast for me#and they ended up cutting SO many small moments that had SO much importance like im going crazy about some of them#some of the lines they cut…….#or even adjusted slightly that it drew away the impact#ugh i KNOW there was a LOT to balance and a LOT of content to get through#but i am a little disappointed that so many emotional scenes were what ended up suffering for it#this is why i don’t usually like reading the manga for animes i watch#i always end up getting disappointed by the limitations of adaptations#that being said though regardless of general limitations i don’t think some of the rushing is above criticism#and i am going to go and eat glass while seething over the particularly offensive rushing/cuts😤#OKAY DONE that’s the last i’ll say about it i would just go crazy if i didn’t vocalize it somewhere#in general i was VERY happy with the arc in both the manga and the anime i have SO much love for it#definitely a favorite for me#and THAT concludes my very vague no spoiler review#i swear one of these days my self control is going to snap#and im just going to start posting my full essays and content analysis shit about everything i watch here#but for now we’re safe and all my rants will stay spoiler free tag paragraphs instead godbless🙏
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tarraxahum · 4 months
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Was saying for a while now that Speed is very much neurodivergent (dare I say autistic) and the movie especially went for that pretty directly, but my fucking god I did not remember they literally had a bully call him an r-word and immediately get punched in the face for that
#I will say that interpretation of his character doesn't go very well with all the 'Speed Racer is a sociopath' clips going around#related to the original 60s anime of course#most of those are either related to him not hesitating to kill bad guys in retaliation unlike a typical cartoon hero#or to him being blunt and at times rude - and also determined to win and refusing to botch the rules for someone else#which. idk the first one is just good writing I think#and the second one is hardly a sociopathy description#could very well however be something else... you know#not reading tone and being too blunt#refusing to throw a race 'cause rules are rules and also that wouldn't be a victory if it's just given#etc etc#my boy is too focused on racing proper#ethics are hard#and throughout the show it's clear that he isn't above helping people! he does that a lot actually#but to throw a race out of pity? whuh?#still need to watch the 90s reboot in full but from what I remember he's somewhat closer to the movie there#kinda aloof when not behind the wheel and has so much shit just whooshing over his head poor guy#...New Adventures and Next Generation and god forbid Race to the Future are on thin fucking ice#maybe one day I'll catch up on them proper just to put that notch down#but UUUUUGGGHH#gosh I wish Tatsunoko did something new with him. his cameo in that one anime was so damn cute.#but instead I'm dreadfully waiting for the news on the promised AppleTV series#I don't trrrrrust but we'll see#hire actual Japanese actors I triple dare you.#damn an old hyperfixation knocking on your door is one hell of a ride
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tojisun · 1 month
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still on that "simon teaching you how to shotgun while you're riding him lazily" shit and will always be on that shit!!
•°. *࿐
he pinches your chin, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the smooth of your skin. “breathe it in slowly—it will burn, especially ‘cause this is y’r first time—so tap when s’too much, okay?”
“okay,” you hum, eyes fluttering slowly at the gentle touch, a caress you know that is meant to be beckoning.
simon shifts the two of you on his seat, shuffling carefully, but the slight movement still makes you gasp, a sputtering of your breath, as muted please races through you at the deeper press of his cock.
he croons at your reaction, eyes crinkling as he murmurs praises and ‘i love you’s, his voice so full of adoration. it makes your heart clench, lips wobbling at the softness of it all—
simon is not a good man. he said this to you the first time you begged him to take you to his place.
(“please,” you whimpered then, too overwhelmed with your lust to notice the way he was straining against his self-control. “i need you.”
your voice broke, a sad tinge curling in your words, and you wonder if it was that which finally pushed simon to the edge. if it was the desperation he could see burning in your eyes and rippling into the way you held him—loose fists bunching up his shirt—that finally made him buckle.
“i’m not the man that you think i am, sweetheart,” he spat out, his voice weaving between his teeth in a barely-contained snarl. “y’re too good f’r me.”
“i don’t care,” you murmured, stepping closer into him, devouring even the minuscule space between you two because simon needed to know. he needed to understand that there is no one else you yearn for but him—
“goddamn it.”
his snarl was followed by the way his teeth sank into your skin, marking, tugging.
yes! you thought with giddiness, a sharp gasp getting torn from the base of your throat. yes!yes!yes!)
simon is not a good man, but he kisses you like one. he cares for you like one. he loves you like one.
simon is not a good man, but did he need to be? he was yours. was that not enough?
you rut your hips in slow circles, quiet rasps of your gasps filling up the space. you watch with hooded eyes as simon lights his cigarette, before you lean forward to snuff the fire off his lighter. your eyes meet his above the wafting smoke, desire mutual as it drips into each other’s laps.
sweat beads on your forehead, sliding down your temple.
you brace yourself on your knees, mewling as you feel the base of his cock sliding out from the grips of your wet walls, before slowly sinking back down to engulf the thickness of it. his cock digs deep again, settling somewhere that makes you feel so full—you swear your organs shift to make room for him—and it is in the midst of your stuttered whimpers that simon takes a drag of his cigarette, slow and deep.
you become so hyperaware all of a sudden, watching as his chest expands with every inhale. then, he takes the stick out, and he turns to you with pursed lips. simon cups your cheek once again, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.
anticipation courses through you as you pitch forward, willing your shaking body to sit still. you see the muted spark of the cigarette in your peripheral as you go—a temptress in its own right—until you feel the scruff of his unshaven chin tickling your own.
you didn’t realize how much your lips are trembling until you feel the steady press of simon’s against yours. he gives you soft pecks, reassuring kisses, and then he’s breathing out the smoke into your willing mouth.
you breathe it in slowly, feeling the burn on your tongue slither to your throat until it fills up your lungs. it feels like a thick miasma is being poured down your trachea, choking you with the tendrils of its fiery fog, and you cough, ripping your lips from simon’s.
“shh, shh,” he murmurs, quick to comfort you, his hand steady on the base of your head. “y’did great, sweetheart. y’did great.”
you can’t hear him, ears ringing as the heat spreads within you.
it is so foreign, dangerous, yet it is so, so sensual—
a metaphor for simon.
suddenly, sharp pleasure curls in the pit of your stomach, batting away the burn, and you keen, drawn out and high-pitched, before tipping your head down, needing to watch the way simon circles his thumb on your clit.
he’s let go of his cigarette—
“sim-onnn,” you hiccup, heart thudding with your disappointment. “wan’ more.”
he chuckles, the sound of it so fond.
so proud.
“look at you,” he croons. “it hurt you an’ yet you want more.”
his hand slides down from the base of your head to trace the plane of your spine before settling atop your ass where he grabs a fistful of your flesh. you groan, feeling truly edged out—the lapping euphoria you feel from the slow caress on your clit is not enough, and the thrill of breathing in simon’s sin having been cut short.
any more teasing and frustrated tears will trickle from the corners of your eyes.
simon catches your pout, and he grins, one that is a bite too mean.
“so needy,” he says, sighing dramatically, before he reaches for the stick and pinches it between his lips.
it makes you squirm, excited, your mouth already open—
needy, just like he said.
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satorena · 8 days
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❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜
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⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.
⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .
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“ugh, this is such a painnn!”
“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”
“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”
you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”
he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”
you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.
“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.
you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”
“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.
you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.
“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”
“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.
“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”
“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”
he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”
whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”
“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”
you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”
gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”
you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”
“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”
you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.
“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.
“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.
his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.
you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.
“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”
your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.
“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.
“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”
you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”
“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.
he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”
you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”
he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.
only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.
damn it all.
clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”
gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”
you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.
damn it all.
“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.
“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.
it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.
gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.
“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”
your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.
“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.
“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.
“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.
“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”
“well aren’t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”
“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”
“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”
“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”
“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”
and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.
“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”
“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”
“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.
your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.
“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.
“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”
“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.
“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.
“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.
his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.
“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.
“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.
you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”
naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”
you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.
the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.
“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.
you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”
nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.
he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.
the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.
the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.
“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.
he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.
he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.
when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.
“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”
“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.
you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.
the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.
after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”
“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?
he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.
“we definitely fucked these papers up.”
. . . shit.
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io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c
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ohproserpine · 3 months
Text
v. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder
"THAT SLAG!"
Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.
"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.
In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.
"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"
He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"
Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.
"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.
"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.
Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."
"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"
Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."
"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"
"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"
"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.
"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."
"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.
Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.
"Who's this?" she quipped.
"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."
Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.
"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"
"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.
"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."
"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.
A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."
"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.
Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."
.
"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.
Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.
"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.
Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.
Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.
"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.
The radio rumbled with delight at your response.
"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.
"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.
"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.
"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.
"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"
"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”
"Ah, but that's why you love me."
Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.
I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?
As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.
"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.
For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through
Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.
I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new
Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.
With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.
"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."
"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."
In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.
As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.
Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.
"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.
"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.
"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."
You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.
"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.
"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.
"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.
"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.
And there it was.
"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"
"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."
"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."
"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"
Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.
"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.
Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.
No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 
Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.
With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.
Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.
Your matchbox wasn't there.
Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.
Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.
"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.
You eyed him skeptically for a moment.
In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.
Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.
Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.
"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.
"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.
"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"
"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."
His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."
Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.
"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.
"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."
"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.
Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.
"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."
"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."
"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.
"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.
"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."
A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.
"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."
Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.
"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."
Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.
A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.
"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."
You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."
"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.
As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.
Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.
Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.
A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.
"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.
"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.
"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."
You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.
"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.
Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 
Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.
"Oh, you cheese…"
With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.
Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.
Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.
Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.
What in hell was that?
Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.
Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.
Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.
A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.
But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.
The TV Demon, Vox.
His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.
"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"
Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.
"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.
"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.
Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.
"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.
"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.
"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.
"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.
"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."
"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"
"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"
Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"
"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"
"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"
Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"
Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"
"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"
The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.
"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.
"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"
As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.
.
Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 
Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.
With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.
Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.
If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.
"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"
Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.
"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.
Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.
"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.
"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.
"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.
"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."
You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.
"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"
Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.
Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.
Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.
As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality
Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.
Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.
"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."
The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.
"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."
Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.
"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.
"Please let me kill for you."
Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.
A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.
A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.
"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.
There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."
.
Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.
A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?
A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.
It must be love.
With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.
"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."
Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.
"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.
With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.
The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"
You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.
A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.
"What is the meaning of this?" 
Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.
"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"
With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.
With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.
"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."
"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."
"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.
Pretty Dolly Heart.
Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.
The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.
"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"
Your blood ran cold with fear.
"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.
Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.
"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.
With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.
A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.
"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.
With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.
Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.
Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.
"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."
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fairy-angel222 · 3 months
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OFFICE SLUT! ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
—in which your boss toji catches you fucking your two coworkers gojo and geto
pairing: gojo, geto, toji x fem! reader
cw: foursome, breeding, degradation, praise, belly bulge, spit swallowing, fingers in mouth, face fucking, tears licking, slapping, fingering, cumming untouched, pussy eating
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Being your colleagues’ cum dump was something you’d never expected. Ever since you started working at the office one year ago, your two coworkers Gojo and Geto seemed to have taken a liking to you.
Their constant flirting never ended, often finding yourself sandwiched between the two males with their hands and mouths on your body.
It didn’t take long for you to inevitably fuck them. Cooped up in your office during lunch hour as they took turns fucking you raw and filling you up.
Then it happened again.. and again. Becoming a regular routine for the two men to use your pretty cunt for their pleasure.
You were in your office once more, your blouse unbuttoned down to your tits which spilled out of your lace bra. Your pencil skirt bunched around your waist as you bounced on Geto’s cock. Your hands on his shoulder to steady yourself and your head falling back in a string of loud moans.
Gojo stood above you with his hand around your neck, his lips on your ear as he rasped degrading words into your ear. “Just a lil fucking slut aren’t ya? Good for nothing else but spreading those sexy legs f’ us.”
You mewled at his words, hearing Geto grunt deeply when you clenched down on him. His cock was piercing your insides so deep, slamming mercilessly into your gummy walls which each upward movement of his hips. “Fuck, this slutty pussy never gets tired does it? Fucking made to take our cocks.” Geto groaned, his breathing speeding up as his hands on your hips tightened.
“Nnh— S-sugu- ahh— Suguru,” you cried out, your brain slowly losing any train of thought as you were roughly fucked closer to your orgasm.
“Fucking slut, you like that?” Gojo grinned, “Like having your slutty pussy filled?”
You nodded, your body trembling as your stomach tightened, the feeling of Geto’s cock hitting your g spot with no stop becoming too much as you let out a high pitched cry.
Your eyes rolling back and your breathing heavy as you felt yourself near the edge. Letting out incoherent babbles that you were about to cum.
“Is our little slut gonna cum for us? Go ahead baby, you deserve it.” Geto breathed, feeling his own release nearing as you spasmed on top of him. Nails digging into his back as your pussy gushed onto him messily.
Your lips parted, Geto’s cock pace still relentless as he chased his own high. Short moans matching his thrusts while you rolled your hips back and forth. Gojo chuckled, kissing and sucking up your neck before biting at the lobe of your ear. Bringing his lips to yours to kiss you sloppily, squeezing the sides of your neck before his other hand pried your mouth open with his fingers.
A smirk on his face as he let his spit fall onto your tongue, landing two mean slaps to your cheek before his fingers were back to forcing his saliva down your throat “So pretty like this.”
You whimpered around his fingers, small tears welling in your eyes as the slender digits pushed deeper into your mouth. Your drool running down your chin and his hand when you sputtered.
“Hmm, that’s what i like to fucking see.” Gojo could feel his cock straining hard in his work pants. The bulging dent more than visible to your eyes.
“Shit,” Geto cursed, his cock twitching at the sight of you gagging on Gojo’s fingers when the white haired man began to thrust them in and out.
Letting out a dragged groan, Geto held you still on his cock, pumping ropes of his hot seed into you. “Fucking look at how this pussy’s swallowing my cum.” he mused, slowly pulling you off of him and watching as you clenched down on nothing. Preventing his cum from seeping out of your greedy cunt.
Geto scoffed with a smirk, landing a harsh smack to your folds making you mewl, his palm coming into contact with your puffy clit.
“Guess it’s my turn.” Gojo bit his lip, roughly pulling you off of Geto by your throat and forcing you down onto your knees. Freeing his rock hard cock while his fingers dug into your cheeks. His cock throbbing when you looked up at him through your lashes. “Open.”
You did as told, opening your mouth to allow the man to thrust into it. A loud gag sounding in the small office as he forced it all the way in. The outline of his cock prominent in your throat as you breathed through your nose.
Still keeping eye contact when he grabbed onto the two sides of your head and began fucking your face. Moaning and groaning loudly while watching you messily drool onto your tits. Your eyes blurry with tears as your throat was relentlessly fucked into.
Geto began to stroke his cock to the choked gags sounding in your throat with each slam of Gojo’s hips. Your own hand reaching down to play with your clit as your mouth was used for nothing but pleasure.
Gojo grunted, “Now would you look at that, cock hungry whore’s getting off to this.”
Your whine was muffled as you ruthlessly rubbed over the bud, Geto’s cum beginning to seep out of your cunt as you messily rubbed your clit from side to side. Your wetness coating the floor and your hand as you whimpered around Gojo’s cock.
Gojo groaned, pulling you off of his cock and to your feet. His tongue swiping over the tears collected on your cheeks. “Wanna cum in that tight pussy instead.” Roughly bending you over your desk and landing a slap onto the flesh of your ass.
A moan leaving you when his hands reached to free your tits from the confinement of your bra. He wasted no time in plowing into you from behind. Your mouth falling open in scream like moans as you gripped the edges of the desk. Feeling his cock hammering its way deep into you, and hard.
You let out a cry every time his girth filled you up, grazing against your g spot even more than Geto had. “A-ahh f-fuck—“ you cried shakily, your body being jerked onto piles of paperwork, “Satoruu— nnh- ‘s so deep.” you keened. Your head getting dizzy as Geto’s cum was drilled out of you.
Gojo’s hips moving at an inhuman pace to bully your poor pussy. You lost it when a large hand reached forward to grope your tits, squeezing your hard nipples between his fingers before slapping each one. Drawing two consecutive cries past your lips.
“That’s it. Fucking take it.” Gojo gritted out, his fingers digging into your sides to fuck into you even faster. “Gonna breed this little pussy so full.”
The sensation was different, feeling Gojo’s tip prodding at your sensitive spot nonstop. The abuse causing your bladder to feel full as you moaned. Your eyes closing as you pressed your cheeks onto the glass desk. Seeing Geto fisting his cock at the same pace you were being destroyed at.
“S-shit,” Gojo breathed, his cock twitching against your walls. His head falling back in sharp breaths as he neared his release. “Clenching down on me so- fuck— tight.”
Your noises carried no sound as the most intense orgasm washed over you. Your body shaking uncontrollably as your toes curled, increasing your grip on the desks edge. “O-oh f-fuckkk.” you cried out loudly.
Unknowingly forcing Gojo’s cock out your slippery cunt as you squirted. Streams after streams of the clear liquid spraying messily onto his abs and thighs, a shiver raking through your body when your hand reached down to rub quick circles on your clit. “Nnhg— ahh, o-oh god,” you mewled tearily, your pussy unable to stop gushing despite the buckling of your knees.
Your body shivered when you finally came to a stop, panting hard in an attempt to catch your breath as your body went limp. A loud whistle coming from the man behind you as he assessed what just happened. Grinning widely before his eyes darkened.
“That was so fucking..” thrusting his cock back into you, “hot.” His thrusts now becoming uncoordinated as he rut into you. The sight of your orgasm somehow making him even harder than before. Skin on skin filling the air along with the lewd squelching sounds from your pussy.
Geto still couldn’t believe his eyes, his tip and angry red as he neared another release.
Gojo cursed out loudly, giving you his final crazed thrusts before he was burying his cock all the way in. Painting your guts with a satisfied hum. “Such a good breeding bunny for us.”
Geto got off of his seat, his abs tensing as he continued stroking his cock. “Put her on her knees for me.”
Gojo slipped out of you effortlessly, setting your jelly like frame on your knees for Geto to cum on your face and on your tits. Your fucked out brain barely registering it as you were coated with the sticky white substance.
The two mens’ heads turned at the sound of the office door being unlocked. You being too tired to even hear the sound. The was only one person who could have a key.. your boss, Toji Fushiguro.
Geto and Gojo glanced at each other, hurriedly trying to tuck themselves back in their pants while standing side by side facing the door in an attempt to hide you.
A deep voice traveled through the room as the door was slammed open. “Don’t bother, i know you three have been fucking.”
Shit.
“And you two know that this is unacceptable behavior.” Closing and locking the door behind him before walking up to you, watching as you blinked up at him confused. Toji stooped in front of you. Taking in the state of your clothes, the cum on your body and most importantly, your leaking pussy.
“S-sir we can exp-“
“Shut up.” Toji growled out, trailing a finger down your cheek. “It’s already bad enough that you two decided to play selfish with my pretty little employee.”
Gojo’s eyes widened, “What?”
“Don’t act all surprised, did you really think you could keep that pussy of hers all to yourselves?” Toji laughed, tilting his head at you with a coo, “You hear that baby? They thought they could get away with not sharing.”
You whimpered when Toji picked you up, his large muscles flexing under his shirt as he sat you on the desk. The other two’s soft cocks hardening again as they watched.
Toji smirked down at you, “Look at how dirty they have you.” Dragging his finger across your plump bottom lip, “Seems they’ve already done a number on ya. Shame that i have to add onto that.”
The man freed his cock from his pants, being way thicker and longer than the other to. You swallowed hard, your pussy getting wet at the thought of that in you.
Toji groaned, bringing his finger down to your cunt to dip into your sopping hole. “They couldn’t even open you up enough to take me. Looks like i’m about to ruin that fucking pussy.”
You mewled loudly when Toji lifted you up and in line with his cock. Already manhandling your body into a folded position to use you as his flesh light.
“Gonna break your slutty body baby, you ready for that?” Toji didn’t even give you a chance to respond before thrusting you down onto his cock. A loud cry falling off your tongue as his cock bulged in your stomach. Your pussy stretching to accommodate his girth.
“One of you. Come eat her out.” Gojo was quick to walk up to you, sitting on the sturdy desk and connecting his tongue to your cunt as Toji began to fuck himself using your pussy. Roughly lifting you on and off his cock, your moans deafening as he kissed your g spot right before kissing your cervix. Geto’s tongue swirling around your clit was a groan. Swallowing down your sweetness eagerly.
Geto stood jerking off again, his fist circling around his tip before stroking his length.
Your brain slowly turned to mush as you were fucked dumb. Gojo falling to his knees at the same time Toji decided to sit with you out his lap. His hands under your knees which were pressed up into your chest. Pounding into you with no mercy while Gojo suckled at your clit.
You mewled loudly, your head falling back onto Toji’s chest as your sensitive body was toyed with. Feeling another intense orgasm quickly bubbling in yours stomach as Toji’s cock hit a new angle. Hammering directly into your spot with force.
Geto appeared in front of your face, tapping his cock on your lips and watching as you opened up as wide as you can. Your moans and cries being muffled as your legs started to quiver. Geto groaned, easing himself fully past your lips and settling at the back of your tongue.
Your noises increased in volume when Gojo began flicking his tongue onto the swollen bud. Your pussy tightening on Toji’s cock while you sloppily attempted to suck Geto off. The man eventually taking the lead by fucking into the warmth of your mouth instead.
His heavy breaths mixing with your throaty cries and Toji’s deep groans. Creating an atmosphere of nothing but lewdity. Toji grunted, “You’re a real slut huh?” And you only whined into Geto, the noise sending vibrations a his body.
Gojo smirked against your skin, “We tell her that all the time, our personal little cum dump.” Going batch to latching his mouth onto you making you let out a choked moan.
You reflexively came off of Geto’s cock when you felt yourself about to cum. Your eyes rolled back and your forehead sweaty as your heart raced. Geto forcing his cock back into your mouth before you could get anything out. Tears welling in your eyes as your orgasm washed over you.
“Is our good little slut cumming for us?” Gojo teased, sucking harshly to drive you crazy. His mouth opening in anticipation as another squirting orgasm recked through you. The immense pleasure burning your stomach as you let go. Messily drenching Gojo’s face and the desk in front of you.
Toji’s thighs also becoming soaked as he fucked against the forceful sprays threatening to push his cock out. “Shit.” he husked, his cock twitching when you began to come down from your high. Your chest heaved, vision fading in and out as Geto began spilling into your mouth, the thick liquid sliding down your throat making you gag.
“Fuck- pussy feels like it was made to be bred.” Toji breathed, the thrusts slowing down as he released weeks’ worth of cum into you. Swelling your belly and you groan softly at the continuous feeling of being filled up.
Toji let his cock slip out of you, the still hard length springing into the air
Gojo placed a soft kiss to your cunt before he stood up with a smirk. His cum staining his pants from his cock rubbing against the fabric while he ate you out.
Gojo kissed your lips softly, a small smiling gracing your face. “Did so well for us. Such a good girl.” you let out a well needed breath. “‘M tired..” you mumbled.
Geto speaking up from where he stood, “Gotta get you cleaned up first baby.”
You shook your head sleepily, ignoring the feeling of multiple sets of cum flowing from your pussy as you closer your eyes. Snuggling closer to Toji’s hard chest before falling asleep.
Toji’s finger made soothing shapes on your skin, his voice calm and his face holding a spine chilling smile. “You’re lucky i don’t fire your asses for taking my claim before me.”
Gojo and Geto scratching the back of their heads nervously.
“But,” Toji continued, looking down at your pretty face as you slept. Your chest rising and falling softly. “We got more important things on our hands, like truly making her feel like she did a good job.” The other two nodding in agreement.
Toji already had something in mind, but he wondered how long it would be until you woke up.
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arolesbianism · 11 months
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Ok but if we ever get playable Charlie I will be in absolute shambles because you just Know I would rush to read all her quotes and be emotionally destroyed by some mundane shit
#rat rambles#like her last name starts with a w. its not only fully possible but honestly probable to me#like idk I just dont thinl theyd go out of the way to give us her initials like that of they werent at least considering it#will it be soon? probably not. but based off the stage performances I dont think its impossible that we'll get her in a year or so#like again I dont think we'll get her soon if at all but considering shes still serving someone or something else there is still potential#stuff beyond the horizion of playable charlie#and considering we're ramping up to start watching the dominos fall I dont think its impossible for smth to go wrong for her in one of#these upcoming story beats#again its not likely but it is possible#more likely tho is like late later on stuff since theres a lot of work theyd have to do to make that work even outside of the plot updates#idk Im just rly excited to see more charlie stuff#also after reading more into charlie stuff it rly gives maxwel's rework animation an interesting new light#because well. charlie seems to rly rly hate maxwell. or at least hold a lot of resentmemt towards gim#and it just rly gives her whole arrangment with maxwell more of a vibe that she wouldnt be offering him shit if she didnt have reason#it could be a practical reason or maybe for her own amusement or petty revenge or maybe a mix of all of the above#I personally am a fan of the idea of her just fully ditching maxwell the second he looses whatever value she needed from him#I think maxwell needs smth like that. a true lesson that he cant just be forgiven and be powerful again just like that#a moment where its made abundantly clear to him that he is just as pathetic and cowardly as he always has been.#cause thats what I think he rly needs to actually make any progress as a character#he needs to be knocked down a peg and by that I mean he needs to get knocked to the dirt and kicked while hes down#I say this from a place of love btw I dont think he is some iradeemable monster hes just some guy who got himself into some bad shit#hes a very flawed and messy person and hes a piece of shit but in a way I do find mildly interesting#I say mildly because itll entirelly depend on how they move forward with him from here lol
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jyoongim · 3 months
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ALASTOR X READER
~Anyway you want me baby~
Taking Angel’s Poison and giving it a spin.
Porn with no plot? Slight Degradation kink. Pet play. Orgasm denial.
You made your choice to deal with the devil and now you’re at his mercy
No one knew why you were always with the red demon. When the Radio Demon came back from his ‘sabbatical’ he had a pretty little thing by his side.
If people saw you, Alastor wasn’t too far behind.
There were many rumors.
many think you were just his little errand girl.
others thought you were the reason he was gone.
but oh…how wrong they were…
You were a poor, underpaid, and abused dancer. you had met Alastor when he had dealt a deal with Husker in the club you worked.
he had peaked your interest when you witness him strip Husker of everything.
he had power. Power was the only thing in this damned place that got you anywhere.
and you wanted that power.
with his help, you could be and have anything.
and so you made the mistake approaching him.
“I want to make a deal” you said confidently.
his sharp smile widened as he quirked an eyebrow at you.
”what would you give me my dear?”
You couldn’t offer him money. So you took a deep breathe and gave him your best flirty smile “I’ll be yours. Anything you want”
his clawed finger caught your chin, angling your face to bring his face closer “you sure about that my dear?”
you nodded and just like that; you had struck a deal.
but this deal wasn’t what you thought.
you thought maybe he would have you do his bidding, or request you do weird shit.
No.
Alastor had found you mildly amusing that you would willingly strike a deal with him. So he took it upon himself to make a special deal with you.
“What a pretty pet you make dear”
your jaw was aching as you swallowed his dick. You whined at his words. You had been doing this for hours and practically had a puddle of your slick underneath you.
Alastor was sitting above you, leg on your back and purred as you gagged when he pushed your head down further.
you looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around him.
he held you fast in place with your leash wrapped around his hand.
feeling your momentum slow, he slide out of your throat with a pop.
he wrangled you til you were in his lap. The sound of static hummed in the air as he positioned you right above his spit covered dick.
You whimpered in embarrassment as he toyed with your throbbing clit.
he chuckled as your hips sought after his fingers before pushing you down onto his member.
you hissed at the inrustion and let out a moan as he slowly bounced you.
he tilted his head, watching your pretty face contort in pleasure.
“Who said you could feel good dear?”
you gasped as he set a rough pace. You felt the leash tighten around your neck, restricting your breathing as he mangled your insides.
”A-Alastor!”you cried out as he hit that sweet spot inside you.
all you wanted was relief.
his smile was vicious “do my pretty pet want to cum?”
he had asked you this multiple times and you knew what the result was going to be, but frantically you nodded as you hoped he would give you mercy.
but what fun would that be?
Alastor chuckled deeply as he thrusted harshly inside you.
he loved how pliant you were.
you would do anything to please him just to get some relief.
unfortunately for you, that just wasn’t how things were.
he decided when you got pleasure.
he let out a growl as he felt your inside clench around him
”don’t you dare”
you felt tears well in your eyes. You wanted to be good.
but fuck it felt so good.
you let out a high pitch whine when you felt that tight coil in your belly.
”please please please please” you begged.
he flipped you onto your belly and pulled the leash tight, wringing your head back, causing you to gasp as he hovered over you.
Admits his harsh thrusts he placed a soft kiss to your forehead
”how you want me dearest?”
your eyes clenched as he quickened his pace
You were so close.
he hummed and before that coil could snap…
he pulled out and you felt the warmth of his cum spilling on your ass.
you groaned and glared at his smiling face.
he scooped a little off your ass and smeared your lips
”lets try again shall we?” You sucked his fingers clean and whine when he released your leash enough for you to turn around and with only the thought of being able to cum, you spreaded your legs for him again.
Alastor’s ever sharp grin widened at you.
”and how do pretty sluts like it dear?”
“Any way you want baby”
what a good little pet he made you…
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ribbonprincess · 2 months
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
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xhopelesslyromanticx · 6 months
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A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol
summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)
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Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.
Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.
„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.
„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“
Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.
„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.
„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“
He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.
„Well nice to meet you nanny.“
You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“
Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.
And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.
Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.
„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.
„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.
It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.
„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.
„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.
„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.
„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.
„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“
Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“
You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“
Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.
It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“
But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.
You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.
„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.
Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.
„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.
„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.
„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.
Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.
„What about Y/n, Lando?“
Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.
„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.
Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.
„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“
The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.
„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.
So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“
It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.
The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.
„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“
„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.
„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.
Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.
„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.
You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.
„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.
Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.
„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“
You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.
„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.
„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“
Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“
He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.
Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.
„Why not?“
So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.
The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.
It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.
Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.
On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“
Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.
„What do you mean? What about her?“
„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.
„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“
Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.
„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“
„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“
„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.
„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.
„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:
„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.
„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“
Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“
„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“
„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„
„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.
„What?“
„Im gonna get her a bag.“
You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“
„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.
„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.
The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“
You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.
„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.
„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.
Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“
He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?
„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.
„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.
„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.
You scrunch your nose „A purse?“
„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“
„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“
„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.
„What is it then? A special bag?“
„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“
„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“
Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.
Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“
„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“
„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“
You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“
Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“
„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“
„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.
„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“
„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.
„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“
„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“
„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“
„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“
„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.
Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.
But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.
When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.
„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?
„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.
„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.
„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“
„Who?“
„Y/n!“
„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.
„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.
„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“
On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.
„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.
„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.
„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.
„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.
„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.
„What the-„
„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“
„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?
„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“
You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?
„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.
You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“
„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“
„I- Uhm.“
„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“
You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.
You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“
„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.
„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.
„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.
„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.
„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.
„How so?“
„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?
„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“
„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“
„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.
„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.
„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“
„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?
„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“
„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.
„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“
„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.
„Lando calm down!“
„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“
„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“
Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.
„Jesus!“ you sighed.
„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.
„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“
„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.
„For what?“
„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“
„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“
„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.
„But the pictures?“
„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“
„Why didnt you say anything?“
„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“
„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“
Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“
You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“
„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.
„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.
„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.
„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“
„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“
Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.
„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“
You giggle „It is silly baby.“
„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.
„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“
„Why?“
„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“
„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“
„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.
„Birkin Bag.“
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southislandwren · 1 year
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i want to milk twice a day in the summer months and once a day in the fall when the grass gets bad and i want to ride a mule out to get the livestock in with my cow dogs running alongside me and i want to watch the sunset and i want to make dairy products and i want to stargaze and i want to share my love for dairy with the world. but that will never happen because (censored) is prone to droughts and you'll never guess how many gallons of water a lactating holstein drinks in 1 (one) day
#ugh argh the emotions are getting to me#i feel like i dont want that much. i want a quiet area and to be left alone and i want to feed some people.#i want to show people the beauty in the world through caring for land and animals and watching the stars.#and it sucks that i wont ever get that because creameries are expensive and barns are expensive#and houses are expensive and land is expensive and vehicles/equipment are expensive#and farms dont get profitable for like 5 years so i'd have to just survive on savings for like 5 fucking years#and (censored) isnt super liberal so probably no one will want artisan dairy products.#my dream is coming crashing down and all i can do is complete my degrees and then move back home and hopefully make above 20$/hr#i'll be farming by 2030 or i'll be killing myself. im not going to waste my years rotting in an ice cream factory#when i could be galloping across the great plains and roughing it in the country#i dont WANT to live in a city. i want to live on 40 acres with a small house thats super soundproofed#and the nearest neighbor is a 15 minute drive away.#my friend was like you should come run my creamery with me! and i was like hell yeah!#but i dont want to live in iowa under her shadow :( i want my own creamery and my own livestock and everything that comes with it#and i know my parents will help me with like money stuff but im gonna be 19 hours away from them and two timezones away#and i dont know SHIT im just a city kid :(#sorry. anyway.#diary post
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eroselless · 27 days
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LAY UR HANDS ON ME
Summary: You and Lando have been friends for years, dancing around your feelings and avoiding the tension between the two of you. What happens when there's only one spot left in the car? [1.7k]
[lando norris x reader ]
MASTERLIST | Part 2 - I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME
Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, sorta dry humping, light fingering and cursing. If there's any I missed let me know!
Note: as the poets say, i’m a slut for Lando <3 
I was inspired by this tik tok and this fic by uluvjay
Anywaaays, let me know if I should do a part twooo
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Lando's eyes can't help but wander over your figure as you sit next to him at dinner. His gaze traces the curves of your body accentuated by the dress you mentioned to him just the week before. The fabric clings to your body in all the right places, exuding an allure that is both captivating and refined. He notices how the colour of the fabric makes your eyes look brighter and emphasizes the features of your body that he always finds himself drawn to. You look completely at ease in your chair, a half-empty glass of wine dangling casually from your fingertips.
He's pulled from his thoughts by a voice across the table. "What's the plan?" Carlos inquires, his hands clasped together in front of him as he gazes out at Lando. He blinks, processing what his ex-teammate just asked him. He hesitates for a second.
"I think I'm ready to head back to the hotel," he replies, meeting your eyes briefly for confirmation. You nod in agreement, your silent support bolstering his decision. A chorus of voices clamours at you, George, Alex, and Pierre opting to go out for a few more drinks and dancing. You shake your head, swirling the glass in your fingers.
"I think I'll head back too," you say, setting the glass down with a decisive clink. Max nods in agreement, Pietra clinging to his arm as they prepare to leave as well. You all begin to file out, congregating in the foyer of the restaurant for some quick goodbyes.
Lily wraps her arms around you in a farewell embrace, a pout evident on her face as she whispers promises of future hangouts before hurrying to rejoin her awaiting boyfriend. Alex gives you a wave from afar, a gentle smile playing at the corner of his lips, and they join the rest of the group as they make their way towards their car.
You walk out, trailing close behind Lando. Your hand is tucked into the pocket of his blazer jacket, a silent yet comforting gesture that keeps you near him. The air is filled with conversations as you make your way to the car that awaits you. Everyone begins to pile into it, Max taking his place behind the wheel with Pietra by his side while Carlos sits in the back with Charles.
"Oh, shit—" you hear Lando mutter suddenly as he scans the remaining space. There's only one spot left in the car, next to Carlos. With a slight grimace, you watch as he waves his hand in the air as if to say, no mind that. Lando takes his place next to his friend, ushering you into the car as well. Your eyebrows furrow together as he gestures for you to climb in his lap.
You hesitantly sit down, pulling the door closed behind you. You had always been rather close to Lando, even going past the confines of friendship, blurring the lines. You'd always be stealing his clothes, his t-shirt, sweatpants, sweaters. He'd always find comfort in your body heat, curling up at your side to sleep or have a cuddle. You were essentially attached at the hip.
You'd grown accustomed to the flashes of cameras and the photos circling online on social media. Often, people would question if you were dating, but the answer would always remain the same—no. Not that either of you didn't want to, but you'd been friends for a few years, and Lando intended to keep you by his side as long as he could. He prioritized your bond over potentially complicating things by introducing romance to the mix.
This feels like entirely new territory, sitting in his lap with his hands hovering above your thighs, the faint scent of your perfume teasing his senses as you settle in. He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement surge through him. If you leaned back, he feared you'd be able to feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat underneath the layers of muscle that encase his chest.
As you lean forward to grasp the seat in front of you, Lando can feel his breath catch in his throat as he becomes hyper-fixated on your movements. He can't help but bite his lip as a flush rises to his cheeks, struggling to take his eyes away from where your figure is nestled in his lap. The softness of your touch sears through him.
His eyes dart nervously to Carlos, hoping to find some reprieve from the intense feelings brewing in him. The Spaniard raises an eyebrow at him in silent amusement, a smirk playing on his lips before turning back to Charles and resuming their conversation. With a gentle shake of his head, Lando tears his gaze away, opting to watch the lights go by outside.
He watches as the pavement gradually gives way to rougher terrain beneath the car’s tires, signaling the road to their hotel nestled on the outskirts of the city. Max turns the music up, trying to muffle the crunch of the wheels on the gravel. The transition is palpable, the rumbling of the road sending vibrations through the vehicle. Your position suddenly feels uncomfortable and you begin to shift in your spot, momentarily forgetting that he can feel your every move.
A sudden bump jostles you from your spot and you can feel Lando’s hands tighten slightly over your skin. You try your best to stay still, only shifting again when the car goes over another bump. A whispered plea cuts through the tense air, sending a tingle down your spine.
“Please stop moving.” he murmurs, voice strained. The heat that spreads through you only intensifies as you feel his grip on you tighten, your hands clenching onto Pietra’s seat in response.
“Sorry,” you whisper back, trying to sound as sincere as you can, to sound like you weren’t thinking about how hard he was beginning to feel under you. Lando’s fingers press harder into your thighs. The bumps keep coming and you struggle to keep from moving. The air around you feels as if it's getting hotter as you continue to move against him. Next to you, Carlos and Charles are dozed off, completely unaware of the tension rising just next to them.
You can feel Lando breathing down your back, having placed his forehead at the nape of your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. He’s breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your skin. His breath is coming out in broken fragments as he struggles to keep it under control. His fingers are now fanned out on your thighs, just inches from the hem of your dress. He’s almost tempted to slip his fingers under it. He bites down on his lip, a futile attempt to hide how much he’s enjoying the moment. The bumps in the road continue to make his heart pound, freezing his hands in place.
Desperate for some relief, he tries to lean back into the seat. The ache building in his cock is almost unbearable. He pushes his hips forward, inadvertently bucking them up and now it's your turn to try to keep quiet. You feel yourself hang off of the seat in front of you, back arching slightly.
His gaze is now trained on the curve of your ass in his lap and he can't help the sigh that falls from his lips. He so badly wants to surrender himself to the allure of the moment, so many years of yearning for you building up to this very night. 
You reach a hand down to grab one of his, intertwining your fingers in a silent plea for more. You feel as if you are skating on thin ice as you encourage his hand to move under your dress. A gasp threatens to make its way past your lips as he follows your lead and dips a hand between your legs. Pushing your knees out ever so slightly, his fingers delve deeper, and you find yourself teetering toward the edge of ecstasy.
You both begin to shift in time, the pad of his thumb just barely pressing into the button of your clit and your ass rubbing perfectly against his cock. With each subtle movement, your senses ignite, the friction sending waves of pleasure rippling through the both of you.
“Oh god…” Lando’s voice is a mere whisper, hardly reaching your ears over the hum of the car and pounding of the music. His fingers move in slow circles, you feel as if the pleasure could consume you whole. With every flicker, your teeth dig harder into your lip, and you swear you could draw blood.
You can see the hotel lights from here, light seeping into the car. Panic sets in as you freeze in the seat, hands and hips coming to a complete halt. You can feel Lando shaking underneath you, his cheeks a bright pink. His chest is heaving as he tries to take shallow and quiet breaths. You each try to compose yourselves and you lean back in his lap, pulling his hands out from the fabric of your dress.
The tension in the air is palpable as the car comes to a stop, Max putting it in park and announcing to the sleeping men that you’ve arrived. You bite your lip at the innuendo that goes over everyone’s heads. Not quite, Max.
Lando’s hands take their spot on your thighs again, just as they were at the beginning of the ride. They stick slightly to your exposed skin, a testament to the desire that simmers between the two of you. You can see them twitch as if they’re still itching for more. He smiles weakly at you as you step out of the car, blaming the tight confines of the car for your flushed cheeks.
You don't miss how he gingerly sticks the pads of his fingers in his mouth or how he shoves his hands into his pockets, adjusting his pants as he does so. You blink away the last of the haze in your eyes as you quickly and quietly follow him up to your shared hotel room.
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tojisun · 4 months
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!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)
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when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."
the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?
well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.
it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.
"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."
simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.
then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.
"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.
you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.
"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."
simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.
"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.
"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"
and that was that.
"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.
cute.
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"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.
"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"
he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.
god, he loves seeing the size difference.
you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.
he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.
you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.
you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"
and who is simon to say no to that?
"of course, love."
he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.
he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.
glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.
he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?
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johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"
his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.
"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."
johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.
"…are they safe for use?"
"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.
simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"
john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."
simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."
the squad is still quiet. waiting.
simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."
he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.
"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.
simon grumbles all the way back to his room.
---------
simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.
he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.
but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.
nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.
he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.
"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.
"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"
you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.
still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.
(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)
---------
simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.
because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.
“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”
simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.
---------
the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.
it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?
it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.
"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.
finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.
"what's it?"
"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.
johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.
"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"
"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."
oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.
wait.
"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.
it's still a fucking blob.
christ.
6K notes · View notes
garoujo · 7 months
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✩ ˛˚ . KAMO CHOSO — choso thinks he may be addicted to the feeling of your fingers in his hair.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, face sitting, hair pulling (choso’s), pet names, questionable characterisation! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! first time writing for choso so i am v sorry in advance <3
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you hear choso growl from where he’s pressed underneath you, face shoved between your thighs as you grind down into the steady lav of his tongue. his cheeks and the lower half of his face are slick, soaked with your juices as they drip and pool onto the sheets beneath him.
you feel his fingers flex into the flesh of your hips, pulling you deeper— sure to leave a mark everytime your thighs tighten around his head, like he’d gladly take his last breath from between your legs as he groans.
“shit, keep doing that, princess.” you hear your dark haired lover gasp as he breathes deep before he buries himself back into you. but the low tone of choso’s voice still manages to send vibrations straight through your clit, making your hips twitch with the sudden jolt of pleasure as you press yourself down into his mouth.
your fingers tighten in his hair as you ride him, so greedily as your hole clenches around his tongue and he loves the way you pull at the messy hair style, musing it beneath your touch as you pull at the roots. “so good~ fuck!” you throw your head back at how greedily he devours you, like he’s been starved for eternity— pouring his soul between your folds as it burns through you.
“you know what comes next.” choso moans shakily, his words almost lost between his messy movements as you give him a doe-eyed, glassy look. you whimper when he pulls away momentarily, sliding his slender fingers between your folds before he’s spreading you lewdly and diving back in— slurping and smacking at the taste of you that has his cock twitching between his thighs.
if you were to look behind you, you’d see what your taste does to him— what you do to him as pre-cum gathers around his blunt tip. he pays no mind to it, not when he’s got you straddling him face, too focused on feeling you cream around his tongue.
“you’re gonna cum for me, okay?” he feels sticky, the air in the room heavy as he laps at your clit—he’s flushed from his cheeks to his chest and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over his toned torso but he needs more, messier. his palm comes down heavy against your ass as he sends you deeper into him, squeezing roughly at the skin—but it only allows him to push his tongue even further past your folds to dip into your hole, lewd squelches filling the room as he fucks you with the muscle.
choso feels lightheaded at the arousal pooling in his stomach, his cock aching for any sort of friction but he’s just so lost in you instead. wrapping his lips around your clit before sucking it into his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll the sensitive bud so he can feel you jerk in his hold, his large palms rocking you against his mouth as he groans against you once more.
“right there, ‘m gonna—ah!” you jolt slightly but his strong grip keeps you in place, forbidding you from moving as he holds you above him — fingers squeezing into your skin.
“use me—k-keep going.” he almost growls, his words breathless and needy and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten when you look behind you to watch his own hips twitch at the idea of you cumming on his face, paired with the pressure of you grinding down on tongue.
choso’s movements are almost desperate, your skin feels on fire when the pleasure races through you while you hear his own quiet moans against your cunt— lost between smacks and suckling noises. your thighs tremble either side of him and you babble, your clit knocking against his nose with every buck of your hips as you drag yourself along his mouth, your arousal drenching the sheets below you both.
“that’s it, give it to me, princess.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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everyonewooeverywhere · 3 months
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader
note ✭ this is very much inspired by the mingyu pictured above. (also i don't mention it explicitly, but girly's family is lowkey rich)
synopsis ✭ when your dad hires a hot new farm hand, you can't keep your hands off of him.
content/genre ✭ smut (18+ mdni)
word count ✭ 2.9k
warnings ✭ smut, mingyu and reader are horny af, outside sex (no one else sees them though), no prep, overall horny shenanigans i guess 🤷‍♀️, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex (they're not depicted as drunk, but they did have a couple drinks)
✭✭✭✭
Every time your father hired a new farmhand, they were always the same. While they never disappointed in the build department (they were always jacked, but that was kind of a requirement of the job), but they all looked identical. They wore the same brown scuffed boots. They had their hair in the same floppy cut with the same dirty blonde color. 
For a couple of summers through your teens, it had been fun. Your father would hire him after the final school bell rang for the summer. You’d introduce yourself to him when your father was nowhere in sight, and you’d spend the rest of the summer sneaking around with him and having your fun. When summer finally ended and school began, you’d bid him farewell and never speak to him again, and your father was none the wiser.
And it was fun! The first two times. Then every summer turned the same, and every single farm hand looked indistinguishable from the last with no discernible personality whatsoever. 
So, having just finished your second year of university, you were expecting more of the same. You’d have a gander, but you certainly weren’t expecting much from whoever your dad decided to hire this summer. 
“God, why couldn’t you have invited me to stay over at your house this summer? I’d take whatever hunk your dad decided to keep,” your best friend from school, Jennifer, whined over the phone as you pulled your car up the long driveway to your house.
“I did invite you, but you’re spending you’re leaving today for Spain, remember?”
“Yes, but y/n!” she whined again, “I need more muscly men in my life. This would be the perfect opportunity.”
“You’re gonna be in Spain for two months. I’m sure you’ll find at least one man muscular enough to fit your standard.”
“Yeah, whatever. You better have fun with this man without me.”
“Like I told you earlier, they’re so fucking boring. It’s not gonna happen.”
You put your car in park and began to gather up your purse and phone when you glanced up out the windshield to see probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life walking out your front door and toward your car. It was as if your severe doubts had summoned him.
Ever the chatterbox, Jennifer kept talking, “Well I’m just saying maybe you should keep an open mind. You never know what could happen. One magical night in the woods and you could be locked down for life. It’s just–”
“Jennie shut the fuck up.”
“Woah,” she seemed mildly offended, “sorry?”
“He’s hot Jennie. Like really hot. Not even a ten. Probably a twelve.”
“Ugh, you lucky bitch! I told you to keep an open mind,” you could hear her mother yelling at her in the background, “Oh shit. Girl, I have to go, but send pics! Please! I need to see the hunk you’re railing this summer.”
“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled while she hung up on you.
This man was really throwing you for a loop. Just based on appearance alone you could tell he was not the type of guy your dad usually hired. First and foremost, he was massive. Well over 6 feet tall and far more muscular than any guy you’d ever seen (and that was saying something), and the skin-tight black t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide it. His hair was dark and cropped, a far cry from the endless supply of shaggy blonde hairstyles you’d seen over the years. 
The cherry on top was when, after watching you stumble out of the car, he’d asked, “Where’s your luggage? I thought I’d help you carry it inside.”
“Oh,” you let out an awkward laugh, “It’s in the trunk. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he followed you around the back of your car and popped open the trunk, “I’m Mingyu by the way.” He stuck out a hand for you to shake it.
You grabbed the hand and he shook it with a firm squeeze. Holy fuck he has nice hands. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you Mingyu.”
There was no hiding the way you gawked at the way his muscles flexed when he carried your stuff inside.
✭✭✭✭
The idea of returning to your old ways was honestly exciting for you. Last night over Facetime Jennifer had gotten the whole rundown of your brief interaction with Mingyu. You fawned over his muscles, his cute lisp and the way he’d been such a gentleman to help you carry your luggage after what you assumed was a long day of work. 
She’d found his Instagram of course and found out that he was indeed just as attractive as you’d described (and he had cute friends too). 
This morning you felt more than ready to kick off what you predicted to be a great summer. And you weren’t starting slow either. You knew the routine of your father’s farmhands enough to know that Mingyu would start the day mowing the lawn around your house. He’d usually start later on Saturdays (today), too. Meaning that if you got out there by 10 am, he’d probably still be working his way around the lawn. Hopeful by the pool.
Which, by complete coincidence, is where you were. Laid out in your favorite bikini by the water. The dark sunglasses covering your eyes meant that your eyes were completely hidden, but it was obvious where you were looking. 
Not far from the pool, you could see Mingyu pushing the lawn mower through the grass of your backyard. The tight black t-shirt from yesterday was no more. Instead, he wore a white tank top that left his arms completely exposed. He glanced over at you a couple of times, but he never let his gaze linger long enough for you.
You watched him from your laid-out position in your pool chair for a good fifteen minutes before he disappeared into the shed, presumably to put the lawnmower away. While he was inside, you took a moment to stand and dip your toes in the water thoroughly enjoying the coolness of the water. It was nice, you had to admit, but you’d have to save that for later because, while you were distracted by the water, Mingyu had made his way to the fence that separated your pool from the rest of the yard. 
It was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed him standing there, leaning against the fence smiling at you with an eyebrow raised.
“Do you normally spend your mornings checking out your dad’s employees?” God his voice.
You stepped out of the pool, “Only when I think they’re worth my time.” You slid your sunglasses off your face and onto the top of your head as you approached the fence where Mingyu was standing.
“Charming. I’m assuming he hasn’t the slightest idea what you get up to, then?”
You laughed, “Of course not. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“So…” you brushed his forearm with the tips of your fingers, “What time do you get done?” You knew the answer of course, but it felt polite to ask.
“Seven thirty. Why? Hoping to get me alone?” He smirked
“I wouldn’t mind it.” You bit your lip as you no-so-subtly checked him out for the millionth time, “Meet me behind the shed at seven forty-five, ok? Don’t be late. I’ll bring booze.”
✭✭✭✭
Part of you wondered if he’d be there when you snuck out of your house at eight-fifteen. Yes, you were late, but that was part of the game. Your parents always went to bed early, and you were an adult. So getting out of the house unnoticed was no issue at all. If your dad noticed the six-pack missing from the garage fridge, you could just tell him you drank it or you could feign complete innocence. 
The weather was still warm despite it being completely dark outside, so your athletic shorts and oversized tee did just fine. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt but ultimately decided against it because you didn’t want him to think you’d give it up that easily. Even though you were already struggling greatly to contain your excitement.
He could hear the clinking of the glass beer bottles as you made your way to the shed through the freshly cut yard. As much as Mingyu would love to deny it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since this morning. Something about the way you were laid out in the sun this morning had left a permanent imprint on his mind. The secrecy of the situation was also incredibly appealing. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, messing around with his boss’s incredibly hot daughter.
Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were taking your sweet time on purpose. You’d made him wait half an hour just to see if he’d wait around for you that long. You wanted to see how bad he wanted it, and clearly, he wanted it pretty bad because you found him sitting on the bench behind the shed staring up at the stars.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
He laughed, “Sure you are.” He held out a hand.
You passed him a bottle as you sat down next to him.
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, but it seems you just enjoy the idea of making people wait for you.”
“Maybe,” you turned so your knees just barely brushed his thigh, “But you waited for me didn’t you?”
“Hey, maybe I just wanted free beer.” He gestured to the bottle in his hand.
“I know for a fact my dad pays you enough for you to afford your own beer.”
He laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, giving you a full view of his neck. You couldn’t help but imagine kissing his neck, leaving plenty of marks in your wake. “He sure does. It’s one of the many benefits.”
“What else do you like about the job?” You were genuinely curious about what was so appealing about doing nothing but manual labor for an entire summer. Even if the paycheck was really good.
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Gets me off my ass. Gives me something to do with my hands.”
“Oh? You good with your hands?”
“You just don’t let up do you?” He really did enjoy how insistent you were despite your attempts to make him pine after you by making him wait for you so long. 
“Not unless I’m asked to.”
You ended up talking with Mingyu for two hours. The two of you drank and talked about your lives, school, home, past flings, and relationships. By the time you two of you had finished off the six-pack you’d brought out, you felt as if you’d been out there forever. 
At some point, you’d put your legs over his lap. He caressed one of your calves with one hand while you played with the fingers of his other hand.
As much as you’d enjoyed this little conversation, the more you drank, the hotter he got, and you were hardly holding it together anymore. With every move of his hand on your calf, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.
You took the hand that was already in yours and placed it on your cheek, “Mingyu…” you whined looking up at him.
“What, baby?” his thumb stroked your cheek.
You straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs and moving down his neck and to his chest, “can we stop talking for a little bit?”
“Oh?” he questioned, lightly placing his hand on your lower back under your shirt, “What do you suppose we do instead?”
“Can I kiss you?” You asked leaning further into him so that your chests were touching.
“You can do whatever you want, baby.”
That was all the confirmation you needed to lean completely into him and kiss him. The kiss was long and more passionate than any kiss you’d experienced from your past summer flings. His hands were on your ass, pulling you to hover over his crotch where you could obviously tell he was hard. And that would have made you smug if you hadn’t been sitting in your own arousal for at least an hour. 
You kissed down his neck just like you had previously imagined. He let out a deep moan with every mark and bite you made. You had failed to realize that one of his hands had left your ass until you felt a hand brush over your completely clothed pussy.
“Baby, as much as I love these cute little shorts, can I take them off of you?”
Nodding furiously, you leaned back, pulled yourself off of his lap and pulled off your shorts and shirt, setting them on the bench beside him. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, something Mingyu had noticed almost immediately when you’d sat down beside him. Before you made your way back to his lap, you reached for the hem of that stupid, useless white tank top that covered virtually nothing. You pulled it over his head with ease. 
“Wow–” you whispered.
He laughed and pulled you back into his lap, “As flattered as I am,” he ran a hand up your side, “I could say the same thing about you.”  
Before you could even think about how to respond Mingyu’s face was in your chest, feverishly placing kisses on your tits. He grabbed one with his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers.
You gripped onto his hair and moaned softly. Your hips rolled over his clothed dick multiple times before he finally shucked off his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight. 
“Can I please fuck you now?” he asked.
“Please,” you begged completely forgoing the chance to tease him for his politeness.
You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and grabbed him. Running a thumb over the tip, you pulled his cock out and pumped it a couple of times. “God, baby. You better hurry up.”
He slid your panties to the side and ran a finger between your folds, “you sure you don’t want me to prep you?”
You shook your head. So much for making him wait. “I’ll be ok. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
He nodded and reached to grab a condom from his pocket. Of course, he’d come prepared. When he failed to open it fast enough, you snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open with your own teeth. You rolled it onto him after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time. 
He positioned himself at your entrance and slid himself into you with relative ease. You threw your head back when he bottomed out. You covered your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself at least a little quiet. 
“F-fuck, Mingyu!”
“Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunted out, “I’m gonna need you to move, baby. Can you do that for me?” 
You nodded and gripped onto his shoulder. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he buried his face back in your chest, kissing and biting at your tits, collarbone, and neck. He left plenty of marks on your chest that were identical to the ones you’d left on his neck, maybe even darker. You had brought your own hand to your clit. Desperately trying to find your release. 
“Oh god Gyu, I’m so close,” you grabbed onto his hair.
He hissed from the stinging in his scalp, “Me too, angel, me too.” His face was in your neck when you’d finally reached your climax, and he followed immediately after.
You both sat there, chests heaving, for a couple of minutes, saying nothing.
“Wow,” was all he could say as he pulled you off his lap and helped you put your clothes back on, tossing the condom into the trash bin beside the bench. You made a mental note to take the trash out before your dad came out here tomorrow.
You laughed breathily, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hands found their way to his chest instinctively. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“Oh, was that not enough for you?”
“God, no, that was perfect. But I wanna take care of you for real next time.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I have a truck,” he nodded toward the red pickup truck in your driveway, “I can drive it down to the creek. The bed of the truck is actually pretty comfy when you put blankets and pillows down.”
Laughing, you said, “You want to fuck me in the woods.” He shook his head, “I wanna eat you out in the woods.”
God, this was gonna be a fun summer.
✭✭✭✭
“Girl, what!? It’s only been a day?” Jennifer’s voice rang through the phone. “Was it good?’
“For outside bench sex? Yeah, it was great. We’re seeing each other tomorrow night.”
She groaned, “Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jealous.”
“What? No Spanish hunks?”
She shook her head, “not yet. But I’m hopeful!” 
“Do you still want updates, or are you gonna explode from jealousy?”
“No! Please keep me updated. I’m living vicariously through you.”
You laughed, “God you’re insufferable.”
“I know!” She batted her eyelashes at you, “You will keep me updated though, right.”
“Of course, how could I not.”
✭✭✭✭
thank you for reading! i knocked this shit out in two days (and you can probably tell 👀), but i'm genuinely surprised with myself.
anyway hope you enjoyed. reblog and like if you did! love hearing your thoughts
mwah~
2K notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 7 months
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𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit
word count: 4.1k
summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!
author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.
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“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.
“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.
Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”
“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.
He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.
“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”
You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.
“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”
A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.
“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”
Me, too, he thinks.
Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.
“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.
“Three! Two! One!”
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A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.
“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.
You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.
“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.
“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.
“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.
“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.
You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.
His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.
Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.
You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.
“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”
Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.
“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”
You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.
Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.
"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."
You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.
"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."
"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."
"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"
He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.
"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.
"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.
"The number of times ain't just one."
"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."
He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."
"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.
"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."
You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.
"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.
"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.
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Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.
The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.
"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.
“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.
“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.
At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.
“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”
“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”
Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”
“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”
“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.
After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.
He counts that as a win.
He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.
“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.
He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.
You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.
“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.
“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.
“Would you…want to come inside?”
Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”
You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.
“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”
“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.
He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.
“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”
“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.
“You.”
“You got a report card ready for me already?”
“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.
You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”
Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”
“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”
“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”
“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”
“Maybe.”
Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.
“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”
You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.
You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”
A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.
You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.
Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.
“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.
“That feel good?” You ask.
“Uh huh.”
You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.
You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.
“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.
You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.
“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”
You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”
“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.
“That was nothing.”
Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.
“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”
“Or?” He asks.
“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”
You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.
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Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.
“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”
Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.
You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.
You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.
“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”
You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.
“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”
He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.
“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.
It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.
“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”
“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”
He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.
“Do you have to get going?” You ask.
“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”
“No?”
“Not even close, darlin’.”
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