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whatsverstappeningnow · 18 days ago

Text

how f1 drivers react

to girlfriend!reader wearing a necklace with their race number on it (some slightly suggestive lines included) (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

The sun shines in through the kitchen window in golden strings of light. It's a quiet day at home, with no plans till the afternoon and no need to hurry there. Still, you've already dressed yourself in a new summer dress you've bought. The material flows down over your hips, swishing as you turn in the mirror and then as you walk from your bedroom to the living room to show Max your chosen outfit. But you dress isn't the only new item you're wearing.

You'd bought it secretly. A suprise. One you hoped he'd love.

Max spots the necklace right away, his gaze flicking from your eyes, to the dress and then landing on it with a sudden, knowing smirk curling at his mouth. From where's he's sat on the couch, he leans in just a little, elbows on his knees and head resting on his upturned hand. His voice low and teasing as he speaks.

“Well, well, look at you,” he says, voice thick with amusement and something a bit more dangerous.

"You like my new dress?" You ask, giving him a quick spin, hands in the air for a moment and then settling on your waist. His gaze lingers over you with careful precision.

"Not the only new thing you've got on," he muses, tilting his head to the side slightly, "Where'd you get that?"

"Ordered it," you say simply, as if it were nothing at all, as you readjust the necklace chain.

“Careful, schat. Trying to make sure no one forgets who you belong to, huh?”

He stands, slowly, holding your gaze. He stalks towards you, one hand reaching out to hold your waist, the other fingering the chain of the necklace, his eyes lingering on the number and then dragging up to meet your gaze.

You catch the challenge in his eyes and flash him a grin in return. “Maybe I just like the idea of having you close, all the time.”

The teasing in his expression softens in an instant. His fingers gently brush the pendant as he looks at you, eyes warm and serious now.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice softer, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulls you into a quick kiss, no dramatics, just the softnes of quiet love, then he lets his forehead rest against yours.

“You don't know what you do to me,” he whispers into the small space between the two of you, his eyes resting closed like he's still processing the necklace and the dress. It's barely any distsnce at all, yet it feels like a mile. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

"I think I've got some idea." You smile. He does too.

lando norris

He notices it while you’re lying beside each other on the couch, limbs tangled up together in a familar way, and watching some random movie you're only half paying attention to. It's background noise more than anything. You couldn't care less though, just being with Lando was enough to make you relax.

It's about halfway through the movie, with some museum scene plays across the screen, when he notices the new shiny necklace hanging around your neck.

“Wait—hang on. Is that… is that my number?” His voice, though scratchy and slow from tiredness, goes up slightly as he speaks. The little queaks of excitement in his words make you smile.

You can only nod, biting back a smile, desperate to see his reaction. You'd bought the necklace on a whim a few nights ago and were lucy it had arrived while Lando wasn't home. The fun was the suprise of it, after all.

He stretches forward for the remote, sat on the coffee table infront of you two, and pauses the movie dramatically.

“You love me.”

You blink, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at his sudden and sombre declaration.

“I mean, yeah, obviously—”

“No, no. This is serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear like an madman, all teeth and dimples. “You got a number four on your chest. That’s, like, actual dedication.”

You raise a brow, amused. “It’s just a necklace.”

“Just a—?” He gasps, scandalised, hand to his chest and all, like you’ve personally offended him. “That’s my number. You realise what you’ve done, right? You’re basically branded now.”

“Branded?”

He nods solemnly, though his eyes are still sparkling with excitement. “Yup. You wear that out and people are gonna know. Like, know know. I won’t even have to introduce you anymore. They’ll see it and go, ‘Ah, that’s Lando’s girl.’”

You can't help but laugh now, full bellied and joyful, and he grins wider as he hears it, if that’s even possible.

He tackles you into the cushions, kissing your neck with soft pecks. “Next step: matching tattoos. Just saying.”

"Lando!" you cry out with a huff of amusement, knowing he's entirely joking.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..." His quiet for a moment, then looks up at you again with a cheeky grin. "Unless..."

"Lando, no. If you want everyone to know you’re mine, I have a few other ways in mind..." Your hand reaches out to his collarbone, then traces soft lines up to his neck and jawline. Your touch is hot and familiar, slow and intentional. You can see him swallow hard as you do it.

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you could show me them. Just to make sure we're on the same page, love."

oscar piastri

Coffee dates with Oscar are a constant in your life. There's a small shop around the corner from his place that you love to visit on quiet, sunny days. When the sun rose that morning, seemingly shinning brighter than normal, and with a particually joyful sparkle, you knew it was a coffee date day.

It was the perfect time to show Oscar your new piece of jewellery.

He notices the necklace while you’re talking, halfway through a sip of his coffee, eyes slipping from your gaze to the number hanging around you neck. The unexpected, but not undesired, sight causes him to do a double take.

“Wait…” he leans in, interupting your sentence, though you don't mind. You only smile softly as he squints slightly, slowly taking in the sight infront of him, then blinks up at you with slight disbelief. “Is that... 81. My number?”

You nod just once, a little shy, and pick up the charm that dangle from the end of the chain, holding it closer for him to see. He leans in to meet you halfway. But before you can say anything else, a deep blush spreads across his face. He cheeks go an adorable shade of pink as you watch the cogs turn in his brain.

His mouth opens like he has a joke ready, but nothing comes out except a breathy little laugh.

“That’s… kinda cute,” he mutters, eyes still fixed on it like he’s really trying to quickly process all the implications of you going outside wearing his number so casually. “But, like, uh, cool cute. Really cool.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

When you smile and say it’s because you like having him close all the time, he looks down, shaking his head with a small, dimply smile. The blush on his cheeks remains, though he looks less caught off guard than before.

“You’re gonna make me soft,” he murmurs, his hands reaching out to hold yours across the table. Then under his breath, he adds, “Will you wear it to the race next week? Please. Even just under your jumper.”

You agree, of course. You hadn't bought the necklace to hide it away, and you tell him as much. Your words just make him smile and pull you hand closer towards him to plant a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Then it's your turn to blush, squeezing his hand with a smile.

And when you do wear it the next week, proudly walking into the paddock hand in had with Oscar, his smile is brighter than any coffee date day sun has ever been.

carlos sainz

Carlos, the gentleman that he is, loved to plan spontaneous dates. One more occasions than one, what you thought was going to be a quiet night at home had turned into the romantic night out. Candles on resturant tables, hands holding your and taking out the chair for you, the whole deal. Which was how you once again found yourself picking out a fancy outfit, wit no idea which resterant you were going to.

It was sweet of him, though you did wish you had a little more to go on than just wear something pretty, not so hard you you, yes? to go off of while trying to pick your outfit. Settling on an old favourite outfit, you slipped into it with ease, only calling Carlos in when you realised you needed help zipping up the back. Upon hearing his name, he pattered into the room obediently, already dressed in his dress shirt and pants, look perfectly put together.

"Gorgeous, cariño," he whispered into your ear after doing as you asked, "Anything else you need, my love?"

With a barely concelled smirk, you went over to your jewellery box and pulled out your new necklace.

"Help me put this on?" you asked innocently, walking over to him, placing it delicately in his hand and turning around, patiently awaiting his reaction.

“¿Qué es esto?” he asks, his voice light and breathy.

You smile, though it's more of a smirk than anything, but don't turn around. “A little something I got, it's new.”

“Number fifty five?” he says, fingertips ghosting along the back of your neck as he put it on for you, then settling his touch onto your hips to admire your outfit in the mirrors reflection, his head resting on your shoulder. “Dios mío, I’ve turned you into a fangirl, hm?”

“I've always been a fan.”

His brows lift, amused and smug, head tilted slightly to the side. “Of me? Or just the accent?

“Mostly the arms,” you quip, resting your hands ontop of his.

He laughs, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That’s permanent, right? Not just for today? Because I kind of love seeing my number right there.”

“So everyone will know I'm yours?” you joke, voice light.

He kisses your temple, voice low. “Sí. I like it that way. I'm yours. And you're mine.”

alex albon

He’s on his way out the door, backpack on and car keys in hand, when he finally notices it hanging from your neck.

You had it on all day and waited patiently at breakfast, then on your walk together, then through lunch, and then while he was getting ready to leave your apartment. for him to notice, but he simply hadn’t. The whole day. That was, until now.

You we're glad he finally had, you would have hated to have spoiled the fun and justed showed it to him yourself after going through all the trouble of buying it secretly and hiding in in the back of your pjamama drawer.

Oh, well. At least he had spotted it before leaving, now the fun could begin.

His mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ shape as he stares at the little shinny 23 hanging down from around your neck. His eyes are glued to the necklace, one outstretched finger pointing at it.

“Wait, what is that?”

You smile, and wave your hands around it with fluttering fingers. “A new necklace. Nice, right?”

He squints, then closes the front door softly and steps closer to you. “Is that my number?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You smirk, and tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold in your laugh at the stunned, suprised look on his face.

He dramatically clutches his chest, standing right in front of you now. “Too late. You’ve turned me into a puddle. I've melted.”

Then he leans in, eyes glowing with mischief as his hands reach out to grab your upper arms. “Just promise me one thing. Please?”

His voice drips with glee.

“What?”

“If someone, some guy, ever comes up to you in public... ask for your number or something, you better point to that necklace, and then say my name. Clearly. Loudly. Alex. Alex Albon. 23. Got it? Yeah?”

You roll your eyes, laughing at his bright smile. “You’re unbelievable."

“Unbelievably lovable, yes. Hence you having my number arounf your neck.”

You could only laugh harder at his smug expression and mock dramatic tone. After pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you reply, "You're so stupid. Truly.”

"Stupidly in love with you? Definitely."

"You're lucky I love you too."

"Luckiest guy in the world, I know."

charles leclerc

You'd been wearing it for a few days already, under jumpers and high necked shirts. it felt like a little secret, a constant reminder that Charles was with you even when we wasn't actually next to you. You weren't exactly keeping it a secret, per say, but you hadn't yet put it on display.

He notices it at the most random time, while you’re brushing your teeth, hair up, wearing one of his old shirts. The collor of the shirt, well-worn and stretch, dipped over your collarbone and revealling the shiny little necklace you were wearing under neither..

He squints, rubbing his eye from tiredness, or maybe slight disbelief. “Sixteen?”

You nod around a mouthful of toothpaste, toothbrush sticking out one side of your mouth, the edge of your lips curling up into a small smirk.

“Mon dieu,” he mutters, half teasing, half stunned, coming to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around possessively around your waist. He rests his weight onto you, curling into your warmth. “You’re more sentimental than me.”

You spit, rinse, and smile, Charles never moving from his place behind you. It's a purely domestic scene, a moment that reminds you how comfortbale you exist in eachother's orbit. “I wanted something cute to remind me of you. Something to keep with me when your away.”

He watches you through the mirror, soft eyes watching you move with a tired ease, hands pressing comforting circles into your hips. A constant warm presence. “You should have told me, I would loved to buy it for you. You deserve many pretty things, chérie.”

You lean back into him, letting his body mold to yours. You fit perfectly into eachothers embrace.

“I didn’t need you to buy it,” you murmur, reaching down to toy with the charm. “It felt more special this way. Like it was mine to choose.”

He hums into the crook of your neck, nose brushing softly against your skin. “Still,” he says, voice low and a little hoarse from sleep, “I would’ve added matching earrings. A whole Charles Leclerc collection.”

You snort, turning around to look him in the eyes, hands reaching out to hold his face between your palms. “I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

His expression shifts, tender and quietly overcome. He presses a slow kiss to your lips, then you forehead, and pulls you against him. “You have me. Even when I’m not here. Especially then.”

There’s a pause. A quiet that isn’t awkward or heavy, just full of feeling. He looks down at the necklace again, then back at you with a soft smile, one you only ever see when he's looking at you.

Charles sighs, breath warm and ticklish against your skin. “Sixteen looks good on you,” he says eventually. And those simple words hold within them a hundred different meanings you can't wait to dream about all night.

"I'll have to wear it more often, then," you say simply, and the words make him smile even wider.

lewis hamilton

You and Lewis had gotten to the truly domestic era of your relationship. You had keys to each other’s apartments, and you knew you could let yourselves into each other's spaces. So when Lewis texted you, saying he had work to do at home, but you were welcome to come and sit with him while he did it, exist in his orbit for the afternoon, you were soon letting yourself in his front door. Any chance to spend time with Lewis was an opportunity you took, escpeccialy given his busy schedule.

Lewis notices it the second you walk in, even if you don’t realise he’s looking. He’s lounging on the sofa with his laptop resting on his lap, reading something, probably reviewing data notes or one of the endless supply of emails he recieved, but the moment his eyes flick up and land on your necklace, all his focus slips away from him.

He closes the laptop slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, subtle and calm. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache with warmth and familiarity. Lewis' smiles had a way of making you feel whole.

“That’s for me?” he asks gently, nodding toward your necklace. His voice is quiet, curious. His gaze lingers on the number, just visible beneath the open collar of your shirt.

You glance down, fingers brushing over it self-consciously. “I thought it suited me,” you say, only half teasing.

He stands, putting the laptop on the coffee table infront of him, and crosses the room with unhurried ease.

One hand comes up to cradle the charm between his fingers, his thumb gliding over the number as though memorising it by touch.

“It suits you better than me,” he murmurs, a hint of joking in his tone, eyes lifting to yours. "I’m flattered.”

"Flattered?" you said, giggling slightly at his word choice.

"Well, yeah. A pretty girl is wearing my number, how else should I feel?" He lets the necklace fall back against your skin, then adds with a little smirk, “Might need to get something with your initials now. Y’know, to keep things balanced.”

You smirk, letting your hand rest on his chest. “What, like a bracelet? Property of...”

“Necklace. Tattoo. Your name embroidered on my socks... I’m not picky.” He shrugs and sighs dramatically, clearly enthralled by his own joke.

You lean into his embrace, shaking your head as he pulls you into a sweet kiss, his arms wrapping around you with familiar ease and comfort.

“You’re such a sap,” you murmured into his hoodie, resting your head on his chest as you speak.

“And you’re mine,” he said, grinning down at you, hand lingering on your lower back. “So I think we’re even.”

george russell

It’s a lazy Sunday morning spent at your usual breakfast spot. Just off a main road, the quiet atmosphere was the perfect place to unwind and relax on a slow morning. You were dressed casually, sunglasses pushed up on your head for look more than necessity, and your new favorite necklace catching the light and resting around your neck. The necklace, more than anything, you hoped he’d notice.

You slide into the booth across from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek first before sitting down, dropping your bag and stretching your arms out in front of you with a sleepy smile. You hadn't arrived together, George having to go to an extra early meeting and you prefering to sleep in on such a gorgeous morning. But it made it the perfect time to show off the new addition to your jewellery collection.

George doesn’t say anything at first, but you watch as his eyes widen slightly as he spots it. Instead of immediately reacting, he takes a slow moment to sip his coffee, watching you with that knowing look that makes your stomach flip.

Then, with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, he tilts his head and says, “You’re really trying to make this obvious, huh?”

You glance across at him, shrugging and feigning confusion. “I don't know what you mean.”

He gestures toward your necklace with his half-finished coffee. “The whole ‘I’m madly in love with a certain F1 driver’ energy you’ve got going on with that necklace.”

You laugh, resting your chin on your upturned hand. “Maybe I just thought it looked cute. Favourite number. Totally nothing to do with you, sorry.”

“Mm,” he hums, matching your posture with his head on his own hand and leaning towards you slightly with a growing grin. “Or maybe you just wanted the world to know you’re taken.”

“Think it's working?”

“Oh, definitely,” he says, eyes gleaming and a light edge colouring his words. “But now I’m going to have to step up my game. Watch out. I might start wearing your initials. Embroidered. Everywhere. Just to make sure everyone knows I'm definitely off the market.”

You snort at his dramatics, but match his teasing tone. “George Russell, turning up to the paddock with my name monogrammed onto his fireproofs? Oh, the scandal!”

He grins, and laughs as he leans back in his chair. “You think I won’t?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, but you’re blushing now, and he can see it. He reaches across the table to tap your necklace gently with one finger and intertwined your hands with the other.

“It looks good on you,” he says, voice quieter now, sincere, like it’s a secret he doesn't want the rest of the room to hear. “I like knowing you carry a little piece of me around with you.”

Your smile softens, the moment suddenly feeling much softer than before. “I always do. Not just the necklace.”

He grins, like he’s won something more important than a race. “Still getting the monogrammed suit, though.”

“You’re such a menace.”

“A menace in love,” he says proudly, then flags down the waiter like nothing's happened.

taglist: @verogonewild

(comment if you would like to be added!)

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sukunasweetheart · 7 months ago

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the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid.

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder on top of him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?"

a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n

5K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 11 months ago

Text

⊹˚୨ Too Sweet ✮NOT✮ to Spoil! ୧˚⊹ | jjk men

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet sub is treated.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - Daddy/sir kink - sloppy kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation - thigh riding - squirting - dry-humping/grinding - praising - sex toys - voyeurism (consensual) - face + throat-fucking - [un]protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - mention of drool/spit and tears.

word count: 6k (yikes, overkill, lol)

a. note: requested by an anon; yahooo, another one of these!!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation + sucking - dry-humping - masturbation (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie).

Choso loves to have you close to him, your soft lips meshed with his, his hands roaming inside your shirt to feel your skin while yours grip his tee.

“Haahh, Choso…please.”

“I know, sweetie,” he hushes you with his lips. “I’m right here…Hmm.”

You and your boyfriend were on his bed, two figures in a close space. Choso likes having you at his place, taking this time to enjoy you all to himself. Especially after you two spent time together today, going out on a little outing and enjoying each other to start their weekend. Now, after the sunset on your way home, the two of you use the night to spark more intimate moments.

Choso gropes your chest after sneaking his hands under your bra. The softness of your mounds has him sigh, his slender fingers sinking into the plumpness. The kiss breaks for him to observe as you lift your shirt, the sight having him gulp thickly from what he’s doing to you as you evoke cute noises by the tweezes of your nipples.

“Choso,” you whine, your hands finding his shoulders to grab onto. “Please, keep touching me…”

The brown-headed one nods and steadily descends his face, kissing gently on your exposed chest. You mewl at the contact of his lips on your skin, latching onto them for a second longer for you to shake. Your breath hitches at the feel of his mouth brushing your nipple, mouth agape at the feel of his tongue inching closer to your bud. Slow swishes have you ball your fists until he decides to take the tip into his mouth wholly to suck.

You cry, “Yesss…More, touch me more.”

Choso continues to keep sucking, pleasing you with the flick of his tongue and pushing the nip to the rough of his mouth. The other hand tends to the other breast, and he moans on your body as you sneak to touch the groin of his sweatpants.

Pretty fingers rub on him, feeling the stiffening limb sheltered within getting firmer by the second. You grab hold of it, palming his erection to hear more of his moans. “D-Don’t…!”

“I want it,” you purr as you sneak your hand into the hem of his sweats. “Pleasee, I wanna make you cum…Can I?”

How could he ever dismiss you when you’re asking so nicely? He releases your nipple and maneuvers to lay on his back. The gleeful smile makes him chuckle, watching you remove his sweatpants to throw down to the bedroom floor, along with your frilly skirt and panties.

Choso groans as you bring your bare cunt to his erect penis, pressing it down to his abdomen as you begin to rock your hips to and fro. He whimpers; the touch of your folds has him hanging by a thread. Chocolate orbs stuck to the display of him nestling between the lips of your lower region. Fuck, you felt too good, your slick sticking to him like goo and wetting his shaft.

“Fuck, he sighs deeply. “You feel…so good, baby.”

The comment makes you titter, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your hips move a little faster. He holds you by the waist, sinking to the sensation of you pleasing him with just your labia sailing on top of him. You reach for the tip of his cock and grind your pelvis down, the movement making Choso curl his toes at the feeling on his most sensitive part.

His hips begin to jolt on their own, bucking to match your rhythm to a union. Complying, one of your hands comes around behind you to cup his balls, kneading the testes to evoke your partner to keen.

“Ghhhh, shit, shit,” he curses below you, his fingers clamping onto the skin of your waist as you hump faster. “God, you’re so good at this.”

“You gonna cum?” Your question with batting eyes, increasing the pace with the flex of your abs, a firmer grip on his scrotum. Choso nods hurriedly. “Cum for me, Choso; cum, cum!”

You pamper him with cheers as you go harder and briskly on top of his dick. You felt so fucking good, having shivers crawl up the poor pig-tailed man’s frame. All he can think about is how it would feel once he’s inside you, how tight and warm you’d sense at his solid length. Reminiscing about the familiar feeling of your snug walls swallowing him whole nearly has him choke on his spit.

“—Ahhck!! A-Angel, slow down a b—Mmmm!” There’s no point; you’re too into your thrusts that whatever happens after this is inexorable. Choso laments with quick arches, white substance evicting out of his urethra, falling with force and plaster onto the pale skin of his stomach. The shocks of his orgasm have his body jerking with pleasure.

You witness his crescendo, eyeing where every spurt of his semen is expelled. The raunchy image makes you lick your lips with a bite, your boyfriend catching his breath in huffs and pants.

“Hey, Choso,” he looks to you with such comely, dazed eyes. You remove yourself from him and lay on your back with legs risen, spreading your folds wet and sticky of your come.

“Cum inside me just like, yeah?”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Nanami Kento ⋮ masturbation (m! receiving) - licking + nibbling oral (m! receiving) - ball fondling + sucking - facials - pet names (baby, honey, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Ijichi (phone call).

He groans. "Baby, not now..."

"Please, Kento, just one time..."

Nanami should've known what he was getting into when he waltzed into his shared apartment. Work is meant to be kept out of his home, his place to relax and bask in the comfort of his leisure. However, he had to hurry and take up a phone call with one of his peers about a pressing issue, only having enough time to greet you with a kiss before pulling out his phone and walking to the kitchen.

He should've foreseen you coming into the frey, making the scenario hard enough to deal with. "Kento."

"Shhhh, not right now, love." He places his hand to brush your cheek. "Gotta take this...Hey, I'm at home. Ready when you are."

That wasn't enough for you; your lips contorted to a tiny frown. Because you're walking to his proximity by the kitchen island, your hands snake around his waist, and he chews his lip as your fingers trim the edge of his belt.

“Ken,” you whisper as you unbuckle him. “You promised.”

“Honey, please, I can’t do it—Mmmm!” You push your hands inside his pants to palm his flaccid dick—not so soft once you start touching him.

“But you swore!” He doesn’t have time for your whining or fingers motioning around between his pants and boxer briefs. “You said I could suck you off the moment you come ho—“

“Not so loud!”

“Huh, Nanami-san?”

Shit! “Sorry, Ijichi,” the blonde man apologizes. “Give me a second.” Nanami presses the mute button on the phone and looks at you with warranted bewilderment. “You can’t be doing that while I’m on the phone!”

You hit him with a pout. “But you promised I could do it!”

“Yes, I know, but—“

“And you’re the one who texted me about having such a stressful day at work,” you cut him off, pressing your body onto his. “I asked if I could help you ease some stress, and you said yes, so…I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”

“Baby—”

“Please?” You have him stuck to the kitchen counter, unable to leave your side as your hands find his chest. “I promise I won’t be too loud during your call.”

A huge sigh escapes through the man’s nostrils, groaning into his hands as if it’s a big enough shield from your pouting face. However, it’s futile once he sees your pleading eyes, beckoning him to grant you permission for this one thing you wish to do for him. You looked too precious to ignore, the twinge of his heart worsening just for even trying to go against you.

He shakes his head, “…Do it quietly. Understand?” Your facial expression perks to immediate glee, your partner wishing he had his goggles to sheathe you, blinding him. He picks up the phone and unmutes, “Okay, I’m back. What about the proposition brought by Mei Mei and…”

You quietly move on your virtue as he speaks to his colleague, his body still by the counter, giving the advantage to roam your hands around him as you please. The blonde flattens his lips to suppress any suspicious noises that could be caught by Ijichi, especially when your hand returns to his solid erection after pulling his pants down.

Short grunts evade him, making it difficult to stay composed. And you — so daring — decide to kiss the man on the lips. Oh, you were playing dirty, egging him on with a quiet moan that sounded so delightful. His erection gets firmer and firmer, practically sinking into your firm yet gentle touch.

A soft sound leaves your lips after the kiss, and you decide to slide down and attend to his dick and to leave the sand-haired man to concentrate on his call—or at least try to. His pink glans look inviting, feeling his shaft throb under your fingertips. You start by blowing on it, sending shivers up his spine.

“Mhmm, mhmm…Yeah, I agree,” he replies to the other side of the line, his eyes wandering around the kitchen to try and distract himself away from you stroking on his cock so attentively. But then, his free hand grips onto the counter when something wet whisk around the tip of his cock. “Has…Yaga ever told you about Gojo’s standing in this?”

You flick your tongue on his cockhead, slithering up from the underside to the frenulum and sucking the rough skin with smooches. You start slow by sucking in his cockhead, hallowing your cheeks, and loosening your jaw to introduce your warm orally.

The sounds you make to him aren’t avoidable, no matter how hard Nanami tries to focus on Ijichi’s voice; all it does is fade away and enhance your mewls as you suck him off. “Okay…Tha..That’s good. And what about the first years? The mission is sometime soon; should there be anyone—Nnnmph!”

Finally, his mocha brown eyes peer down to look at you—fuck, what a big mistake. You were too focused on him, slurping on his cock before coating him with your saliva and mixing in with the precum oozing out. Then, confidence fuels you to take more of him inch by inch, bobbing your head to form a rhythm where your lips meet the tippy top to the very hilt of his pubes.

“N-Nanami-san?!” Ijichi cries out from the other side. “Are you okay?”

“Gi–Give me a second,” he presses the mute button again to speak with you. “Careful with that tongue, sweetpea.” You peer up to him with hooded eyes, attempting a smile while your mouth is busy with his cock. Shit. “Sorry, I’m back.”

“Is everything all right, Nanami-san?”

“Yeah, I just…stubbed my toe on a chair.” Don’t giggle while you’re sucking on him; the vibrations feel way too good on his lower half. “Anyways, please continue...Hnnnn.”

You remove his dick from your cock and suck on the tip hard, Nanami’s free hand coming to your head to inaudibly warn you. You giggle, trailing down kisses until you reach his scrotum, playing with his testes with laps on of the tongue. Nanami’s barely hanging by a thread, even after you suck on one of his balls until it gets inside your mouth.

“—Khhh, haaah, uh-huh…Got it,” he answered aimlessly, knowing damn well he was not paying close attention to his subordinate’s words. The golden-haired man is too entranced with how you’re working on him, massaging his other ball while you kiss and suck the skin off the other. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Well, actually, there are things concerning the Kyoto School that need…” Poor Ijichi, his words drowning out from one ear and flying out to the next. You were clouding Nanami’s judgment effortlessly, returning one hand to jerk him off and your lips taking the tip for him to the back of your throat. Jesus Christ, your speed was increasing, and hold getting sturdier, his balls and shaft overwhelmed with this much enjoyment. Fuck! I’m close; his hips twitch increasingly, and his breathing is shaky.

“Kento,” your voice captures his attention. “Cum of my face, ‘kay?” You titter before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, a sign that you are ready for him. Nanami licks his teeth; you were too much for him.

Your hands irregularly jerk him off, not skipping a bit as you await his release. The golden-headed man bucks into your hands with your tempo, and his white seed spills out onto your face. He painted your face, sliding into your mouth or landing on your forehead and nose. But you voice no complaints, taking it with grace.

“….And that should be all on that matter. Sorry about having to call you after work about this,” Ijichi says while Nanami pants under his breath, his legs quivering through the aftershocks. “But I shall see you tomorrow, Nanami-san.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning to his touch as he caresses your cheek. You suck on his thumb after he wipes the semen that sticks to your lips, and he chortles hoarsely.

“See you tomorrow.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Gojō Satoru ⋮ fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping + pinching) finger-sucking - missionary position - unprotected sex (no release inside, tho) - pet names (baby, cutie, princess) - mention of saliva/spit.

Sweet things were undoubtedly Gojo Satoru’s most favorite thing worldwide.

“Ahhhnn!! Satoruuu, moreee…!”

And you, his sweet little thing, made his teeth rot the most.

If Gojo could get addicted to you, he most certainly would. And trust—he is already.

There are not many people in this world within Gojo’s proximity that he would consider “cute” or “gracious,” especially within his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer, where hazardous dilemmas and death are nearly daily. But you, his partner, are the pure definition of perfection. He’s smitten, indeed, as you are the most treasured thing in his life with whom he wishes to share good moments and protect within his life.

He couldn’t resist you; if he could break the nation in half for you, he would surely try…However, there are times when he’ll try to break you instead. Why?

“Yeah, cutie, ya like it when my fingers go like this?”

Because you’re adorable—and that includes all sides of you.

Gojo removes his fingers out of your leaking cunt. For the past few minutes, he’s been playing with your folds within the confines of your home. The tall man has been away from you for a while, been itching to touch you—to feel you. That’s why he pulled you in and marched you to your bedroom, kissing you up a storm while unclothing you off your bottoms.

Your figure quakes at the abrupt removal of his digits. “Tahhhh, no!” You whine with scrunched brows. “P-Put ‘em baack!”

“Awww, what’s this?” He tilts his head with a sly smirk; the blindfold hiding the intensity of his gaze doesn’t help. “You like my fingers that much, huh?” A rascally chuckle is caused by how rapidly you nod your head, looking at his hand to see how much of your fluids coats his fingers. “Wow, you’re over here making a mess! Hehe, must feel that good, huh, cupcake?”

“‘Toruu, pleasee…!” You cling to his jacket. “I want them back inside!”

“Ehhhh, but you told me to stop too long ago.” Gojo then takes his fingers to your clitoris. You gasp sharply at the cold, slick-sheeted digits pressing down on your bud, sensitive from the other orgasms prior. “Said that it was too much for you.”

“Mmmm, y-yes, but I am—I was,” you whine at the pinch of your clit. He grinds it with the push and stir of his thumb. “I was…so close!”

He bites his lip; you look too cute when you’re honest, baby. “Well, make up your mind; tell me what you want.”

You gulp as your boyfriend tweaks your pearl, causing quick twitches in your thighs. “P…Please, put your fingers back inside, ‘Toru,” your hips jerk to rub his digits against your vulva and mark more of your essence on him. “I wanna cum on themm…”

Gojo uses his free hand to strip his blindfold off his face, finally letting his royal blue eyes free to view you. “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers one more time for me?” He teases your entrance with the prints of his middle finger.

Head pounds as you nod your head. “Yess, let me!”

But then, the snow-haired man lifts his eyebrows while straightening up a bit. “You sure? You don’t wanna cum on something else?” He unzips and discards his jacket before unbuttoning his pants. “Something…better?”

Your eyes misty with wanton blink to see what he’s referring to, a silent gasp when you see his erect cock spring out. The curve of his length makes your mouth water, and the precum leaking out of his urethra to the frenulum is breathtaking. You don’t even realize your lips curling into a smile. “Yes, Satoru,” the folds of your labia space apart from spreading the crevice of your ass. “Make me feel better, please?”

Holy fuck, you would be the end of him. Azure eyes narrow, “Such a good princess,” and he coos as he smacks the tip of his dick onto your vagina.

The tip of him taps onto the slit, pushing in with every inhale you take. Your come used as lube makes the introduction accessible, and you squeal once the cockhead makes it inside. As you take Gojo inch by inch, the left curve scrapes your walls, toes curling at the contact. And once he puts all of him inside, you cry at the brush of your cervix.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he coaxes you in hushes, yet he grinds his pelvis down to the hilt. He can’t help it, loving the endearing whines you let out when he touches up on your most delicate parts. “Just let it out, alright?”

He speaks for you as his hips begin to move at a mediocre cadence, not enough time for you to prepare for the onslaught of grazes to your sweet spots and feverish pokes to your womb. “—Nngaah! W-Wait, Sa’oruu; not t’faast—Ahaaa!!” Gojo doesn’t stop, though; he is just constantly snapping his hips with a salacious hum as your walls clamp around the foreign limb ravaging your insides.

Inevitably, you howl with eyes sewn shut as your orgasm comes caving in, your cunt puckering on Gojo’s shaft as you come on him for the third time in a row. He savors the feeling of you tightening around him, thrusting sluggishly to enjoy the moment before he removes to fist himself. Your sticky fluids sheathing his cock collects on his fingers.

“Say ahhh~,” and he brings them to your lips, where you eagerly lather his digits in saliva with your tongue and suck. “Good job, cutie!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Getō Suguru ⋮ voyeurism (consensual) - masturbation (f! + m! receiving) - sex toy; wand vibrator - squirting - clitoral play - sir kink - pet names (darling, pumpkin, sweetheart) - mention of drool/spit.

He loves watching you—his all-time guilty pleasure.

Geto sits on the armchair situated by the side of the hotel bed, where you lay with your legs spread and your panties rolled up to your thigh.

Lacy strips of material decorate your body, presenting your boyfriend with the newest lingerie you wish to spoil him with. Matching thigh-high stockings suspended by the garters keep the entire look together—a nice catch for violet eyes to consume.

But not as eye-catching as the commotion between your legs: tiny fingers are toying with your vulnerable cunt, sticking the middle one inside with the help of your slick. Pretty moans slip out of your puffy lips as the pace of your hand goes swifter.

You fingering yourself as your boyfriend watches with a glass of wine in one hand? Geto couldn’t be any higher on a cloud than now.

“Mmmm, ahhhhh,” your eyes flicker to where your man sits and observes. “Suguruu…”

“Mmm? Yes, darling?” He takes a sip of his glass. “You look so good, you know that?”

The comment has you giggling with a light breath, swirling your middle finger around. Geto sees you tease your forefinger inside, loving the way your thighs quirk as you push it in. His eyes are honed at how quickly your come soaks whatever comes in contact.

“Must feel good, too.” He inquires with a raised brow, sneaking a hand down his pants to unfasten his belt and slither into the dark to meet a hard boner. “You’ve been at it for five minutes straight like I told you; good girl.”

“So good,” you purr because of the acclaim. “But, it’s not…enough.”

Geto takes another gulp of the red liquor. “And why’s that?”

It doesn’t surprise him when you swig your head around to look at him properly, eyebrows knitted together. “Please, Sugu…”

“Please, what?” He stands up after setting the glass down, bringing his pants down a bit to have his erection breathe before returning it to his fisted grasp. “Can’t know unless you tell me.”

You ask with quivered lips and a soliciting gaze—you know he knows what you’re talking about, just taking pleasure in the circumstances where you have to beg. “Please, I want you to stick it in.”

Lips curl to a smile, stroking his cock faster. “Stick what in, sweetheart?” He loves your back-and-forth game, seeing your posture slipping with every question.

You point to his dick with your toes. “I want you…in me.”

Ah, yes, your reward. As his sweet thing, Geto promises to care for you when you obey him. And he’ll admit you have done your part exceeding well as always: adorning the lingerie set as a treat, pleasuring yourself in front of him, and wetting your fingers and thighs of your fluid. It all makes him so turned on that you deserve to be pampered.

…However, something was still missing. And Geto knows you’re aware of it, too.

“I don’t know,” he plays coy as he mounts on top of the bed to crawl beside you. “You still haven’t done that thing I always like.”

You plead more with watery orbs. “Hmmm…I can’t do it alone; you do it better…” Your fingers leave your aching slit sensitive and damp. “Please, help me.”

“Oh? You want my help?” Geto takes your digits into his mouth to suck them clean, the sight putting your breathing to a halt. “Ask me properly, then I might give you a hand.” Right as he says that, you jolt at the brush of his middle and forefinger against your unattended clitoris.

“…! I-I,” you swallow spit. “I want you to help me—gasp!”

“That’s not how you ask properly, sweetheart.” He scares you a bit with a threatening pinch.

“…Please, sir,” now that’s more like it. “Please make me cum like you always do!”

A proud scoff leaves him. “Thought you’d never ask,” Geto leaves the bed quickly to retrieve something next to the wine glass. He then requests once he proceeds, “Spread your legs.”

You follow his words with haste, distancing your thighs apart for him to position between. Licking your lips as he rests one leg on his shoulder and turns on the item he brought along, whirring vibrations have you bite your bottom lip.

“Ready?” You eagerly nod, and he descends the wand to your vulva. Your frame jolts at the contact of your clit, meeting the shaking toy surface for a flick of a second. You choke on air and Geto chortles. “Ehhh, but you said you were ready?”

“B-But that was a bit intense…!” Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes; your nerves heighten to a peak.

“I know,” he brings the want back to your clit. This time, he doesn’t stop at your screams. “That’s the point. You said you wanted my help, right?”

You knew this would happen, him using the vibrating toy so roughly that you can’t voice out your opinions adequately. Fuuuck!! It was too intense how hard he pressed the wand on your sore bud, circling and grinding to the point that your words transformed into incoherent babbles. Geto bends down, the added weight not making it any better for you to squirm away from him and his antics.

And yet…it feels so fucking gooood!! The added pressure hits your spot efficiently with speed and energy, pleasing shocks coursing through your body through every zig-zag motion. You howl when he brings the toy to your labia; the vibrating surface feels way too good that you’re clamping onto a void nonstop. Drool escapes your lips, as do the tears plummeting down hot cheeks.

“Heh, so fucking cute,” Geto comments to you before claiming your tongue to suck on for you to whimper desperately. Spit exchanged with wild tongues, teeth clashing amongst the muffled mewls and moans between the satisfaction. You slurp on his wet muscle in gratitude, head pounding from all the ecstatic commotion occurring.

Geto then flicks the wand up and toy, hitting both your folds and clit simultaneously, and your eyes travel up to your skull, almost choking on his spit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—you can feel it. And when it hits you, it hits you hard.

As your orgasm comes crashing down, so does the liquid you squirt out from the stimulation of your glands. The secretion goes around with the help of the toy, continuously gliding across, spraying onto your thighs and abdomen. Geto gets caught in the crossfire, the watery substance plastering onto the wand, his hand, forearm, and cock. Not to mention the sheets of the bed underneath you two.

The onyx-haired man smirks between smooches; there it is. His mouth leaves yours, spit connecting the two pairs of lips from the messy make-out session. Purple eyes take a good long look at the entire thing; your fucked out expression stuck with the trembles of your body—and he couldn’t be even more turned on!

“There you go, pumpkin!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ size difference (true form! kuna) - breast fondling - thigh-riding - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl position - double penetration; anal & vaginal insertion - asking permission - pet names (little plaything, good girl, pet) - mention of pain.

He smirks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You nod your head with quivers. “You feel so…good, my Lord…”

“Hmph. I can tell, making a mess on my thigh like a real fucktoy.”

Sukuna enjoys your company—a hard thing for many to grasp or comprehend in link with the King of Curses. But yes, he seems to like to have you around him, especially when you’re desperate for him.

You were indeed his most precious thing — a rarity as the cursed man doesn’t have the time nor drive to indulge in such trivial items. Yet you seem to have been the exception for such doctrine. It didn’t happen overnight or months, but a miracle did happen for him to find something – or someone – worthy of his attention when he’s in the mood.

And that’s where you come in, his little cherished plaything summoned to his quarters to save him from boredom.

Sukuna lay on his futon with you atop him, straddling his massive thigh between your legs without your underwear on. You move your hips to and fro, gliding your cunt across his skin and covering him with your come. His lower legs kept to your legs so you don’t run away.

Your lips shudder as you sway. “Hahhh, Lord Sukuna…I–I can’t—“

“Hmm? Speak up.” His lips curl to a deeper, devious sneer. “Can’t what?”

“Nnhhaa…I can’t keep going; I’m too—” You exhale through your mouth as your spine jitters from the slight raise of his thigh. “T’ tender…”

“Oh? Is that supposed to swade me or something?” He raises his sole salmon brow in amusement, and your grip on your legs is tighter. “You stop moving when I say so.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord, but—Taahh…!” His upper left arm grabs for your wrists to keep them on his chest, the tongue from his abdomen lick your elbow. “I’ve been doing this for a while…any more, and I could break.”

His expression remains impassive. “What else am I having you do this for?”

“Mmmm, my Lord, please,” your eyes flutter to his comely face, all four crimson eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t wish to cum on just your thigh. I wish to c—oh God…To cum on your cocks.”

Sukuna scoffs; your meek honesty is a tiny bit reputable. “I don’t recall saying you have a say in where and when you can cum. You seem to enjoy my thigh for this long; you can keep it up.” You weren’t prepared for a hand to sneak up to caress your bum. “I don’t think you’re grateful.”

“B-But, I’ve been so good to you all this time!” Do you dare keep questioning him? You earned yourself a finger pushed inside your ass. You better plead your case incredibly. “I’ve come for you this long with no complaints, and I am honored that you gain pleasure from mine…Yet, I want you to feel the inside,” your ears burn from your confession, yet the truth is all you can say. “Rather than the outside.”

Now, he can’t lie; the way you phrased that did spark his interest way more than it intended. But he hasn’t said anything yet, so you continue begging.

“Please, my Lord,” your hips go faster for your sore folds to indulge in the friction, and the finger in your asshole has you sway even more. “Please,please,pleaseee!! I want you…Want nothing but you…!”

Hmph, so pathetic. Your hopeless pleas have the behemoth’s grin grow broader, the thick digit in your butt pushing in and out to the point of you humming. “What a wailing pet I have to deal with...However, you have been good.”His strong hands grab for you to pull you up closer, your stomach brushing one of the cocks standing erect. “Go on, don’t have me do the job myself.”

A curt nod is given to your master as you raise your lower half and crawl further for it to align where his groin is. Your hand grabs for the dick upfront while Sukuna grasps the one below it, and you slowly drop your lower region until his glans kiss your vulva. Inhales and exhales ease your nerves while you push down on the tip, gasping aloud once your chasm swallows it in as the initial pain diminishes slowly with time.

“Good,” A pleased purr rumbles his chest. “Now for the other,” he brings the other tip to your anus, your job maintaining a calm breathing technique as he pushes himself into you. The sting of something foreign entering lasts for a couple of seconds until the second cockhead makes its way inside your rear.

Your mouth is agape as you allow yourself a few moments for your body to accommodate their girthy lengths before Sukuna playfully smacks your ass to attend to him. And so you do, your ass falling sluggishly as your holes occupy with your master’s shafts, venturing deep inside your channels and rubbing on your walls effortlessly have you whimper.

“Little plaything,” he calls you once your butt lays down on him, rubbing his cheek on yours before licking your ear. He whispers, “What do you say to me after letting you have your way?” His gruff voice, so close to your eardrum, lowered to a hush, has your stomach doing knots.

You reply with a trembly sigh. “Thank you…my King,” You look into his eyes as you express gratitude, and his face comes near to claim your lips.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ sloppy kisses/making out - Daddy pink - missionary + mating press positions - clitoral play (tweaking and swiping) - breeding kink - creampies - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, hun, mama) - mention of drool/spit.

“Ahhh, haaaahh, D-Daddy—Mmmph!!”

“I know, baby, I know…Fuck, so nice and tight.”

Toji loves the way you take in his cock. His sweet, little things grit their teeth as he stuffs his entire length into your insides, your gummy walls clenching around the girth, stretching you out to the point of toes curling.

Your back pressed down to the sheets of your shared bed, your legs wrapped around Toji’s waist as he plows into your wet cunt, excess come exiting from the union of your sexes stains not only the sheets but the base of his cock. The room is a bit dark yet warm, with only light from the television basking on your naked bodies. Sounds of plap, plap, fill the silence during your intimacy.

His scarred lips latch onto yours, steamy kisses dwelling into a plane of passion by the second with every mewl he takes from your breath. Stuffing his tongue into your mouth overwhelms your senses, orally stimulating your drive to euphoria. And to his pleasure, you suck on his wet muscle, rewarding you with more spasmodic ruts to your vagina.

Toji relishes the feeling of him wanting him, your body reacting to his every touch and soft caress while his lower half puts you through the most nerve-wracking pleasure. He then cruises a hand down to where your clitoris is, tweezing it with his forefinger and thumb. And the scream he drinks is just delectable.

“—Mmaahh! Ohhhhfuuuck,” spit from the kiss trails from your puffy lips to your chin. “T’ muuuch, Daddyyy!! I’m t’ fuuull…!!”

“Yeah? ’S too much?” He repeats with a chuckle, licking your cheek. “But y’re doin’ so well, hun, takin’ my dick like a good girl.” More swipes on your clit have your arms wrapping around his neck to his amusement. “Hnnnng…Wringin’ me out like crazy…”

You wail to his ear as he presses his forefinger on your vulnerable bud. “Ohhhh, feel shoo goood…Gonna cum.”

Words that have Toji’s emerald eyes darken licentiously. “What’s that, mama?” He rubs his hot cheek to yours; he heard what you said perfectly—but it’s satisfying to listen to your shy self repeat yourself.

“D-Daddyyy, pleaseee—Mmmfff!” An abrupt thrust makes you shrill. “Please make me cummm…!”

“Nnnmm! Shiiit, don’t do that,” he hisses at the clasp of your walls on his girth. “Gonna make me knock ya up…”

You whine. Your hand brushes through his nape onto his raven hair. “Give it to me; I want you to fill me up!”

He scoffs. “Yeah? Want Daddy to bust my load inside again,” he grinds his pelvis down to rub on your G-spot. “Gonna be good, and let me fill ya up til’ y’re all fat with a baby?”

“Yessss, Daddy, please, pleaseee” You kiss and suck the skin of his neck, and he whirs. “Make me all fhat with cum, please! I wanna cum—Mmmm!— and have yer baby!!”

“Heh, fuck, y’re driving me crazy…Stay still, baby,” he coos before arranging upright to unscrew your legs, bringing them to your chest before he cages you back with his added weight and pounds into your swollen cunt relentlessly. You howl and scream at the increased cadence, more come spilling down the crevice of your ass with every push of his cock, and his balls smacking your taint frequently.

“Ohhhh!! NnnooohmyGod!!” You throw your head back to the pillow, unable to do anything else but take him, forcing you into submission. The angle aids deeper penetration, having your head pound harder and your eyes stuck to the ceiling. “Yesssss…Harder, Daddy, please go hardeeer!!”

“Haaahh, I’m tryin’, mama,” he grits his teeth, pistoning his cock frantically to have you speaking in tongues. The sounds of skin slapping get louder and louder, furthering the heat exchanged and the erotic atmosphere.

“Ohhhfuckin’shiiiiit…!! I’m gonna cum,” scrapes to your cervix push you to the edge, threatening to shut down entirely as this keeps going on. “I’m cumming, I’m…Ohoooo!”

Black bangs stick to his sweaty forehead, “Me too, hun…! ‘Bout to bust my—Lllmmm!!” Jesus, your tight walls have him in a chokehold, his abs tensing as the inevitable takes place.

Your walls flutter on his cock as your climax comes first to lock you down, shrieking as the tremors rock you to your core. Toji falls second, releasing his semen into you once again and filling you up with his white seed with a groan. He pulls you in for another kiss, saliva traversing through tongues, dancing with each other with shared moans until both bodies relax after their respective highs.

The cool air brings you two back to reality, Toji dismissing his lips away from you to lick the saliva while withdrawing his length from your inner texture and watching the pool of essence exert your hole and slide down to the messy sheets. The sight makes the older man snicker, licking his scar in contentment as you murmur breathless ‘thank you’s for the reward.

“Y’re welcome, mama.”

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acciomusa · 8 months ago

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New Muses are Incoming.

But Please like for a starter :D Feel free to request certain muses if you want x

#{{swish and flick::ooc}}

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these-lovely-monsters · 9 months ago

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Mating Season

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!werewolf x f!reader

Content: hunting, primal behavior, predator/prey, sex, p in v, knotting, claiming bite, possessiveness, mild dubcon

#13 Mating/Hunting Season from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

It’s werewolf mating season in your village and it’s a full moon which means it’s time for the hunt.

It’s almost midnight and all the eligible women have been gathered in the town square to prepare for the event. You stand amongst the group, everyone dressed in thin gowns and barefooted. A cool breeze causes you to shiver or maybe it’s just the anticipation of the activities to come.

The soft murmurs of the crowd are punctuated by howls in the distance. The werewolves are prowling through the darkness, eagerly awaiting their prey. Under the bright moonlight, the women around you glance at each other with mixtures of nervousness and excitement.

When the first midnight bell rings out over the square, everyone jumps, and the crowd surges forward. At first it’s a tangled mess of jostling limbs as everyone heads for the gates at the town’s entrance. But once you’re all through, the mass of bodies disperse in different directions and you take off sprinting into the darkness.

You’re racing through the trees, leaping over logs and boulders as you try to ignore the pain in your feet and the sharp scrapes and nicks from nearby branches. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your breaths are coming heavy. Over the roar in your ears, you hear the snarls and howls of the werewolves stalking their prey, mixed with the shrieks and moans of those already caught.

Your legs are beginning to ache as you zig zag in no particular direction. So you slow down, wondering if you’ve gone too far. But then you hear a twig snap in the trees behind you. Your heart lurches into overdrive and you sprint forward again.

Moving as fast as you can, you recall the only instructions you were given. “Run.”

Your predator is close on your heels, his paws thudding softly on the ground as he nimbly trails you through the forest. Just as you turn to look over your shoulder, you catch sight of a giant, black werewolf leaping out from between the trees.

When he collides with your body, you let out a soft “Oof,” and you both go tumbling to the ground. He deftly rolls you so that he takes the brunt of the fall and when you come to a stop, he’s hovering over you, pinning your body to the cold hard ground.

Although his form is mostly humanoid, he’s covered from head to toe in thick, dark fur. His head is also the shape of a wolf’s and he has a long tail that swishes behind him. His massive claw-tipped hands are buried into the dirt on either side of your head and his heavy breaths wash across your skin.

Baring his teeth in your face, he starts to rock his hips against your naked pussy and you gasp. When he shifts his weight so his cock is dragging against your clit, you let out a soft moan and he snarls at the sound.

Faster than you can track, he swipes his claws at your gown, shredding the material and leaving faint red scratches where his nails nicked you. He stares down at you for a moment, his pupils dilating as he watches your exposed skin pebble in the cold air.

He bends his head to lick at your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples, causing your back to arch off the ground. Then he lowers himself down so his hot body is draped over yours. Before you can appreciate the warmth, he shifts his hips so that the tip of his cock is nudging at your already slick entrance and you groan in anticipation.

Opening your legs wider in invitation, you grip his fur and tug. With a growl, he sheaths himself fully inside you until his hips are flush with your thighs. You cry out at the sudden fullness and he pauses to let you adjust. When your body begins to relax, he pulls out and then thrusts back in. He does it again and again until he’s setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into the dirt.

You quickly become lost in the exquisite sensations as your back scrapes against the rock-strewn ground while his massive cock stretches and fills you to the brim. He’s snarling and wild-eyed above you as he ruts into you in a wild frenzy, unable to control himself at the feel of your hot cunt squeezing him so tightly.

When your orgasm climbs higher and higher, almost at its peak, his movements become jerky as he meets you at the top. Right before you tip over the edge, you feel his massive knot pushing against your entrance, trying to stretch your pussy impossibly wide.

Before you can protest, he lowers his mouth to your shoulder and growls one guttural word against your skin.

“Mine.”

And then his teeth are sinking into your flesh in a vicious claiming bite at the same time his knot pushes past your tight walls and you scream.

You’re launched into another stratosphere as your eyes roll back in your head and your entire body seizes up. Hot cum spurts inside you, filling you up endlessly until it starts to seep out around his knot and drip down your thighs. His hips are still jerking erratically as he rides out his orgasm, dragging your own out with it, until eventually he’s completely spent.

───

You must have passed out at some point because when you awake, he’s carrying you in his arms as he trudges through the forest.

“Where are we going?” You ask groggily.

“To my den,” comes a deep gravelly voice above you. “I’m going to fuck you until my cum is a part of your essence and everyone knows that you belong to me.”

Tip Jar :)

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster smut #terato #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #werewolf #these lovely monsters #tlm werewolf #tlm stories #monstertober #monstertober 2024 #f!reader #m!monster

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moonlightwritingf1 · 3 months ago

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The One He Couldn’t Let Go | LN4

💋 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N never meant to fall for Lando Norris—the F1 driver with a reputation for flings and flirtations. For nine long months, she kept him at arm’s length, refusing his gifts, dodging his calls, and shielding herself behind sarcasm and silence. But his persistence never wavered. Caught between desire and fear, she struggles to believe a man like him could ever want a woman like her—normal, guarded, imperfect. When jealousy explodes into confrontation and passion gives way to vulnerability, their complicated history threatens to burn everything down… unless she’s brave enough to let herself be loved.

💋 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

💋 word count ━━━━━━━ 13.5k

💋 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, cum on tits

Based on this request.

At an intimidating height, near the top floors, a single unit’s lights glowed brightly against the dark evening. From the outside, one could only imagine the warmth within. Inside that apartment, Y/N stood in her living room, peering down at the cityscape far below.

She could see the flickering reflections of the streetlights dancing on the surface of the river. Her viewpoint was dizzying—a perk of her two-bedroom high-rise apartment. The interior was spacious, the open-plan living room flowing seamlessly into a modern kitchen with sleek countertops and minimalist furniture. The day’s accumulation of tasks was scattered across the dining table: her laptop, paperwork, and a half-finished mug of tea gone cold. An ornate, ribbon-tied bouquet of roses lay beside them.

“Ugh, more flowers,” she whispered under her breath, exhaling sharply. Her gaze traveled over the bouquet’s petals—deep red roses, crisp white lilies, and interspersed baby’s breath that made the arrangement especially lush. A small note card, signed in neat black ink: “Thinking of you. – Lando.”

She bristled. The feeling she experienced in that moment was a heady mix of exasperation, longing, and a strange sense of fear. Nine months of this. Nine months of politely trying to push him away while her heart hammered at every mention of his name. Nine months of hearing that cheerful British accent teasing her, flirting with her, and sending her extravagant gifts without any sign of slowing down. She absently traced the note with her fingertips, fighting the ridiculous urge to crush it in her hand. She couldn’t deny that she adored the gestures. There was no point lying to herself: she loved feeling special. She loved that he singled her out in a world where, by all rights, he should have been so unattainable. And yet…

She let the note slip from her fingers. It fluttered onto the dining table, half-crumpled but still readable. She stared at it, teeth sinking into her lower lip as a swirl of anger and inexplicable yearning circled her mind. She had been fighting this conflict from the moment they met. He was everything she’d sworn to avoid—playboy, stereotypical heartbreaker, and a well-known athlete. The mix of what if and impossible tormented her. She hated how she found him compelling. She hated how his presence filled her with light, yet she simultaneously feared the darkness in his history.

She turned, her hair swishing across her shoulders, and walked into the open-concept kitchen. Flicking on the kettle for fresh tea, she tried to focus on the mundane hum. She pressed a palm against the marbled counter, her mind drifting back, inevitably, to the time they first met.

—

Nine Months Ago

Y/N had just finished her 9-to-5 shift at her first “big girl” job—a role she was both good at and, admittedly, a little bored with. But that day, her friend Pietra had managed to coax her into joining a small get-together in Soho.

“Come on,” Pietra had insisted. “You need to meet my friends; they’re loads of fun. You need a break from that strict schedule of yours.”

“What do you mean by ‘my schedule’? It’s a normal job, Pietra,” Y/N had grumbled, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. She was shy and often fiercely protective of her boundaries, but she still went where her close friends urged her to go. After all, she didn’t have that many friends —just a small circle. Reluctantly, she tagged along.

The venue was a warm, tucked-away lounge bar. Fairy lights dangled from the ceiling, music bumped softly, and the chatter of patrons created a pleasant hum. That was when she first saw him—Lando Norris—glancing her way from a group of people near the back. She recognized him instantly: the messy curls of his hair, the bright, mischievous eyes, that athletic build dressed in a stylish black jacket. She was aware of his presence in the sense that one is aware of a flame in a darkened room; he seemed to radiate an effortless energy.

She remembered the moment heat bloomed in her cheeks. She’d heard of Lando Norris—the famed McLaren driver, the rumored playboy. He wasn’t just attractive; he was enthralling, like a magnet pulling the air from her lungs.

When Pietra introduced them, he was polite but also alarmingly direct. He locked eyes with Y/N, grin spreading on his face as though he’d discovered some precious secret that nobody else had.

“So you’re Y/N,” he had said, leaning in close enough that his breath was warm against her cheek. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She tried to laugh it off, stammering that she was pretty boring—just a regular girl working a 9-5. He didn’t buy that for a second. He teased her. For the entire evening, he barely left her side. His hand lingered at her lower back each time he guided her to the bar to get drinks. Their conversation was laced with playful banter, her attempts to protect herself with sarcasm, and his unwavering interest, as though enthralled by every small detail of her life. He asked about her hobbies, her taste in music. She, in return, found it difficult to breathe under that intense stare. When the evening ended, Y/N left with a phone number in her contacts that she didn’t entirely know what to do with.

That was how it began.

—

Present Day

The kettle beeped, snapping Y/N out of her trance. She hastily poured water into a fresh mug, wincing slightly when a bit of boiling water splashed and burned her skin. She muttered a quick curse under her breath. The small pain was a reminder that she was here, grounded, in her apartment, in her life. Not in that memory of meeting Lando.

He was still the same. From that first moment, he made it exceptionally clear—painfully clear—that he wanted her. She’d tried ignoring him, tried politely brushing off his invites to fancy dinners or events, tried refusing his extravagant gifts of designer shoes and dresses. It only fueled him. She never quite told him no in harsh terms; she wanted to, but she could never muster it. A part of her liked that attention. Another part was terrified.

Leaving her mug on the counter, she wandered back into the living area. She paused at the floor-to-ceiling windows again, half expecting to see some reflection that would reveal the tumult swirling in her mind. Instead, she watched the gleaming lights of the city. She pulled her plush cardigan tighter around herself. Her body was warm but her insides felt cold with confusion, with a nagging, pulsing ache for something she didn’t think she could ever have or deserve.

Even though she was young, she sometimes felt older than her years. She had standards for the kind of man she could actually see herself with—someone who shared her goals. Stability. Honesty. In her mind, Lando was the polar opposite. He was glamorous, chaotic. He was rumored to have slept with countless women. And if even half those rumors were true, that was more than enough for her to keep him at arm’s length. She wasn’t a prude, but she saw that kind of behavior as a lack of self-control. She hated the thought of being just another notch on his bedpost—another fleeting woman he’d meet in a club and forget by morning.

Her phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a text. She recognized the name, and her pulse pounded.

Lando: “Did you get my flowers?”

She stared at the screen, sipping her tea. Her immediate reaction was to ignore him. But, ignoring him never worked. Not fully.

She typed, paused, deleted. Eventually, she settled on: “Yes, you didn’t have to.”

A bubble popped up almost immediately, showing he was typing.

Lando: “But I wanted to.”

She clenched her jaw. If only desire were enough for her to trust him—to let herself want him the way she truly did. Glancing at her reflection in the window, she tried to see the woman Lando claimed to adore. She wanted to be confident, but she rarely was—at least not around him. The idea of him comparing her to the typical bikini-clad models on his Instagram feed made her break out in anxiety. And yet, he was so persistent. Why couldn’t he be the typical player who moved on easily?

Shaking her head, she texted: “I appreciate them, but I don’t want you wasting your money.”

Lando: “I’ll always do it if it makes you smile. Are you free tomorrow night? I’m in London again.”

Her heart stuttered. It always did. That unwavering determination in him. He came to London so often for business, for sponsor commitments, for friends, for his family. He always tried to see her. She wanted to see him, but fear overshadowed her longing.

She typed back a response she’d practiced often: “I’m not sure. I might be busy.”

Another immediate reply. “You’re always busy. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be waiting.”

His words were simple, but they carried weight. “I’ll be waiting.” She couldn’t help but replay that phrase in her head, as though he were whispering it against her ear.

—

The Next Day

Y/N was perched on her living room couch, phone in hand, finishing up a Zoom call for work. Her legs were curled beneath her, and a loose T-shirt paired with leggings—her usual weekend attire—clung lightly to her form. She was comfortable, or at least she should have been, but she felt on edge.

Once she clicked off the call, she exhaled a sigh of relief. It was a Saturday, and though she was often used to the standard “9 to 5, Monday to Friday,” there were occasional weekend tasks that cropped up. She scrolled absentmindedly through her phone, ignoring the swirl of posts about Lando on social media. His fans loved him, especially the female fans. Photos of him with random women at clubs made their rounds more times than she could count. Even though it was rumored that he’d calmed down in recent years, the scars of rumor still trailed him. She’d read the gossip about how he used to message unknown girls, strangers, looking for a quick fling whenever he was traveling for races. The idea of it made her stomach twist with disgust and jealousy.

A ping from her group chat with Pietra and a few other friends lit the screen.

Pietra: “We’re meeting for coffee near Tower Bridge. Lando’s coming too. Wanna join?”

The moment she saw Lando’s name, a spike of adrenaline made her drop her phone. It tumbled to the carpet. She picked it up swiftly, chewing her lip. Her heart hammered. She had two choices: go and endure the swirl of tension, or avoid him again. She typed, paused, frowned, then typed again.

Y/N: “Sure, I could use some air. I’ll be there.”

She braced herself. No matter how much she denied it, she craved his presence like a moth to a flame.

–

It was late morning, and the area around Tower Bridge buzzed with tourists. Y/N arrived at the spot Pietra had texted her earlier.

She spotted Pietra first, already waving in her direction. Y/N forced a small smile and walked over to the group, her stomach tightening with nerves and anticipation. Off to the side, hands tucked into his pockets, stood Lando. He wore a casual black hoodie and jeans, his curls slightly messy, the corners of his mouth lifting the moment his eyes landed on her.

“You came,” he said softly, stepping forward. His voice carried that blend of relief and excitement that sent her heart into overdrive.

“Yeah. I was free,” she answered, trying to keep her tone neutral. She sensed his gaze trailing over her, as if he were filing away the details of her attire, her mood, the subtle flush in her cheeks. An invisible current of tension seemed to crackle between them.

Pietra cleared her throat. “Should we order?”

Lando tore his gaze away from Y/N and nodded, “Sure.” But she felt the way his eyes flicked back to her, how he lingered near her side when they moved to the counter. Despite her best efforts not to, her awareness of him was total.

They settled at a table outdoors, bright umbrellas casting soft shade over the group. The friend group chatted easily, laughter flowing between sips of coffee and bites of pastry. Y/N remained a little tense, contributing here and there, sipping her latte slowly as she listened.

Yet…he seemed utterly entranced. He spoke to everyone, but his attention always gravitated back to her. Whenever he cracked a joke, his eyes sought her reaction first. Whenever he shifted in his seat, his leg brushed against hers. Her pulse jumped each time. She tried to keep her breathing steady, tried to keep any sign of giddiness off her face.

Eventually, Pietra, Max, and the others peeled off to stroll down the riverwalk. Y/N was left sipping the last of her latte beside Lando, who silently took the seat across from her. The noise of the surrounding tourists faded into the background as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the small table.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls again,” he said, not accusing but definitely not thrilled.

She stiffened. “I’ve been busy.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Too busy to text back?”

“Sometimes,” she replied coldly. Her tone was sharper than she’d intended. A flicker of hurt skimmed across his face, quickly replaced by a careful mask of neutrality.

“I—” he began, then paused, searching for words. “I just… I still want to see you. I was thinking maybe dinner tonight, or we could do something else if you don’t like fancy dinners—”

She cut him off, voice low and tight with barely contained frustration. “Why don’t you give up?”

The faintest flicker of anger ignited in his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because,” she hissed, suddenly aware of her own rising irritation, “it’s pointless. All these months, me pushing you away—none of it has made you stop. And I—God, Lando, I don’t do…casual flings. So if that’s what you’re after, just quit.”

He stared at her as though she’d slapped him. He blinked, expression twisting in something halfway between confusion and raw frustration. “You think that’s all I want?”

She set her cup down with more force than necessary. “That’s all you ever had with all those other girls, wasn’t it?” She intended the words as a challenge, but they came out drenched in resentment and, worse, hurt. It was her deepest fear, the one that tormented her in quiet hours: that he would treat her the same as everyone else.

His jaw clenched. “Stop believing everything you read. I know I’ve… I’ve not been a saint in the past. But I never cheated on anyone. And as for random flings—fine, that was years ago, when I was still trying to figure myself out. I’m not proud of it. But I’m not that person anymore.”

She folded her arms, refusing to meet his eyes. “People don’t just change overnight, Lando.”

He exhaled sharply. “I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’m just… I’m just trying to show you that I want you. God, you make me want things I’ve never wanted with anyone else. Does that really mean nothing to you?”

It felt like a lightning bolt of adrenaline speared through her. Her mind screamed that he was telling the truth, that there was sincerity in his voice that melted her guard. But the other half of her mind whirled with all the old rumors, all her insecurities, all the nights she’d lain in bed, scrolling through social media, seeing him partying in clubs with women who pressed themselves against him. Cheating rumors. Her chest constricted.

She stood abruptly, trying to keep her tone cold. “I told you. I don’t do casual. And I don’t think you’d give me anything else.”

His anger flared. He shot to his feet, almost toppling the chair behind him. A few people glanced their way. Leaning in close, he said, voice pitched low, “Stop deciding who I am before you even give me a chance.”

The rawness in his voice nearly undid her. Pain laced through her chest. She wanted to just fold into him, bury her face in his shoulder, pretend those years of rumors didn’t exist. But she couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” she managed, stepping back. “I can’t.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the half-full cup and his stony gaze behind. Her pulse thundered the entire time she headed home, the world blurring around the edges, tears prickling her eyes in a dizzying swirl of guilt and fear.

–

That evening, Y/N was sprawled on her couch, aimlessly flipping channels on the TV while her thoughts spiraled. She replayed that confrontation with Lando by the café at least a dozen times, dissecting every line, every half-hidden tremor of emotion in his voice. The regret was strong. She truly liked him—liked him to a painful degree. She yearned for him so badly she almost found it difficult to breathe. And yet, she was terrified. The idea of trusting him, and having it all fall apart, shook her to her core.

Her phone pinged once more.

Unknown Number: “Hey, it’s Damien. Pietra gave me your number. She mentioned you might be up for a date sometime?”

Y/N jolted upright, reading the text with surprise. She vaguely recalled Pietra mentioning a coworker’s friend who was single and looking to meet new people. She’d brushed it off at the time. But now, the idea of distracting herself from Lando’s incessant presence held a strong appeal. Maybe this was the way to break the cycle of longing.

Y/N: “Hi Damien, yes, Pietra told me about you. I’m free tomorrow if you want to meet?”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself. Letting out a breath, she pulled a blanket around her. This was what she needed, right? A normal guy, with no baggage, no string of humiliating rumors trailing him. She forced herself to ignore the pang of guilt in her stomach, that unshakable sense of betrayal for wanting to see someone else even though she was in no official relationship with Lando. She tried to rationalize it: Lando was the one who was truly unattainable, not her. The heart has to protect itself somehow.

It was the next day—a Sunday, bleak clouds gathering overhead. The wind rattled the windows of her high-rise. Y/N was in the middle of a laundry marathon, folding clothes in her living room, the TV chattering about random gossip in the background. A ring from the door buzzer startled her. She peeked at the digital display to see who it was. Her breath caught when she recognized the curly-haired figure looking resolutely into the camera. Lando.

Her first thought was to ignore him. But a burst of adrenaline had her pressing the intercom. “What do you want?” she asked, voice muffled by the speaker.

He looked up at the camera. She saw from the slight droop in his shoulders that he was determined but…vulnerable. His voice came through, a bit crackly. “I need to see you. Please.”

Her heart hammered. With a heavy exhale, she pressed the button to unlock the main door. She might regret it. But she needed closure, or something. She left the front door of her apartment ajar. Moments later, he stepped in, carrying a bouquet of pink peonies this time—her actual favorite. She’d offhandedly mentioned her love of peonies weeks ago. She swallowed the knot forming in her throat.

“You have to stop with the flowers,” she said by way of greeting.

He set them on a nearby shelf, ignoring her complaint. “I’m not apologizing for sending you flowers. It’s the least I can do for you.”

She stood there, arms crossing over her chest, vaguely aware of how her T-shirt and leggings did nothing to hide the shape of her hips and legs. She felt vulnerable letting him see her like this, so casual and undone. But he didn’t seem to notice anything but her eyes. Stepping closer, he spoke in a quiet, tense voice.

“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to snap. I just—seeing how you look at me, like I’m the worst person in the world, it kills me. You never give me the benefit of the doubt.”

Her throat tightened. Anger, guilt, and longing all warred within her. “You haven’t exactly proven me wrong. Every time I check social media, there’s a rumor, or a photo—”

His eyes blazed. “That’s not me anymore. Do you know how old some of those photos are? You think I’m hooking up with random girls at clubs while trying to chase you for nine months? I have no idea how to prove I’m not lying except to say it outright: I’m not sleeping around. I’m not cheating. I don’t want to be with them, I want to be with you.”

The sincerity in his voice was so intense it shook her defenses. “But I can’t just…unhear the rumors. You had that reputation for so long, Lando.”

He drew in a breath, his frustration palpable. “I know. But people change. I’m not going to apologize forever for my past mistakes. I’ll own them. And you can ask me anything. Let me show you who I am now.”

Her eyes darted to the side. She felt the press of her own heartbeat rattling through her ears. When she didn’t answer, he took a bold step forward, bridging the small distance between them. His gaze flicked down, glimpsing the way her full hips curved into her waist. She saw that flicker of admiration in his eyes. She braced herself, expecting a sexual comment, but it never came. Instead, he reached out carefully, like he was half afraid she would flinch.

He gently touched the side of her face, fingertips grazing her cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a sizzling jolt through her. She swallowed, her throat dry, every nerve in her body going taut.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and rough, “you’ve got to give me a chance.”

Her walls trembled. She wanted to push him away, but the swirl of desire in her belly was strong, overwhelming. She found herself leaning in slightly, like a magnet.

“God, you’re such a jerk sometimes,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, though it lacked conviction. Anger and longing clashed in her tone.

His lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile. “But you still like me,” he murmured. It wasn’t a question.

A heartbeat passed—then another. Before she knew it, his mouth was on hers, the kiss hard and urgent. She gasped, her body stiffening in shock before melting into him. The laundry in her arms tumbled to the floor. His hand cupped her cheek, drawing her closer, and she tilted her head, letting him deepen the kiss. The taste of his mouth—coffee and mint—erased every rational thought in her head for a thrilling, reckless moment.

Her arms found their way around his shoulders. His hand slipped from her cheek down to the small of her back, pressing her into him. She felt the warmth of his body, the electric tension that had brewed for months now set free. His chest rose and fell rapidly against hers.

But then, like a jolt of lightning, the fear snapped back into her. She broke the kiss, pushing him away with trembling hands. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and he stood there, panting.

“Shit,” she mumbled, stumbling a step back. “I can’t do this.”

“Y/N,” he said, voice husky. “Don’t—”

She shook her head. She couldn’t even form words. She just fled to the door and swung it open, voice trembling, “You should leave.”

He hesitated, heartbreak flickering in his eyes, but he eventually stepped out. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, she felt tears welling, unstoppable. She sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

–

In the days that followed, Y/N avoided every text and call from Lando. She even avoided Pietra’s invites, terrified he might show up. She drowned herself in work, volunteering for extra tasks at the office. She took long shifts, poured over spreadsheets, answered emails into the late hours of the night. She hammered her free time with exercise. She tried everything to chase the memory of his kiss away. She was furious at herself for letting it happen, furious at the swirl of contradictory emotions she couldn’t control.

She told herself that was it. She couldn’t let it happen again.

But deep down, she knew she was lying. The way his lips felt on hers haunted her. She replayed the second their mouths connected, how her heart soared with a new kind of adrenaline. The crash afterward was brutal, leaving her feeling hollow.

–

One week later, Y/N found herself in a quiet, upscale restaurant near Covent Garden, fidgeting with her napkin. Damien sat across from her, a kind smile on his face, conversation polite and gentle. He was the epitome of normal—a stable job in finance, an easy sense of humor, no swirling rumors or paparazzi following him. She forced herself to pay attention to him and not think about Lando.

But every time she noticed Damien’s neat, short hair and pressed collared shirt, she missed Lando’s messy curls and casual hoodies. Every time Damien asked a sweet, thoughtful question, she imagined Lando’s witty, borderline-arrogant grin. This was torture in a different sense. She forced herself to laugh at Damien’s jokes, but the laughter sounded hollow to her own ears.

“So,” Damien said, leaning forward. “Tell me more about your job, about you. Pietra said you moved here?”

She nodded. “Yes, over 5 years ago. I, well, my life is pretty routine. Wake up, commute, work, come home. Maybe watch Netflix or read. Nothing exciting.” She tried to laugh it off.

Damien smiled. “Routine isn’t bad. I like reliable people.”

She forced a polite smile back. She was about to respond when she felt a distinct presence behind her. That comforting sense of tension that always accompanied… him. Slowly, she turned her head. Her heart lurched in her chest. Standing near the entrance to the restaurant, accompanied by two of his mates, was Lando. The world seemed to stutter for a second. He was scanning the room—probably looking for a table or maybe meeting someone. And then he saw her.

His entire posture stiffened. Their eyes locked, the swirl of unspoken emotion instantly thickening the air. She felt a spike of panic. She prayed he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t make a scene. Yet part of her wanted him to. Maybe because she longed to see him again.

He shot her a look that asked a thousand questions. She could almost read the accusation in his gaze. She averted her eyes, turning back to Damien, whose brow furrowed with confusion as he followed the direction of her gaze to see Lando.

“Oh,” Damien said, not quite sure what was happening. “Is that a friend of yours?”

She cleared her throat. “Sort of. We… we move in the same circle,” she lied, or half-lied. “Let’s just ignore him.” She forced a laugh.

But ignoring Lando Norris was impossible. Out of the corner of her vision, she watched him murmur something to his friends and stride purposefully toward her table. Her stomach dropped. Damien noticed her sudden tension.

“Y/N? You okay?”

She tried to smile, but the attempt was pitiful. Before she could speak, Lando stood at the edge of their table, hands in his pockets, face set in a carefully neutral mask. She heard the quickness of his breath, saw the faint flush in his cheeks that told her he was not calm at all.

“Hey,” he said, voice clipped. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Damien, noticing the tension, stood from his seat politely and offered his hand. “Hello, I’m Damien. I’m Y/N’s—”

“Friend,” she interjected too quickly, her cheeks blazing. She avoided Lando’s gaze, focusing on her water glass.

Damien hesitated, confusion scrawled on his features. “Yes, well, friend for now.”

Lando’s jaw ticked, and he slid his eyes to Y/N. She could feel the wave of anger rolling off him. A tight, forced smile appeared on his face as he took Damien’s hand, giving it a quick shake. “Lando. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Damien replied, though he seemed unsure about the whole situation.

Her heart hammered so loud she was surprised they couldn’t hear it. Lando parted his lips, hesitated, then said in a low voice, “Hope you both enjoy your meal.” He turned to her, eyes burning with unspoken frustration. “We’ll catch up another time, yeah?”

She nodded stiffly, feeling her throat constrict. “Sure,” she managed. Then he was gone, joining his friends at a table across the restaurant. The man was too well-known to cause a scene in a public place with prying eyes, but the tension was thick enough to slice through with a knife.

Damien slowly sank back into his seat, giving her a concerned glance. “Is everything okay? You two seemed…tense.”

She forced another laugh that sounded high-pitched and desperate to her own ears. “We have a bit of a… complicated history.” She tried to wave it off, picking up the menu. But her eyes couldn’t seem to stop flicking to the side, drawn to the figure of Lando, who was now sitting with his friends at a table partially in view. She felt him glancing at her. The weight of that gaze pinned her down. Her appetite vanished.

Over the course of dinner, she tried to maintain a steady conversation with Damien. She forced herself to nod politely at whatever he was saying, some anecdote about a recent trip to Ireland. She tried to laugh when appropriate. But her mind was wholly consumed by Lando. The tightness of her chest only worsened each time she felt his eyes on her.

Finally, Damien noticed her distraction. He followed her gaze, turning to see Lando, who was tapping his foot impatiently beneath his table, occasionally whispering to his two friends. One friend seemed to be trying to calm him down. Y/N swallowed, bracing herself as she realized that every fiber of her being was screaming at her. This was too intense, too complicated, too painful. She was trying so hard to maintain composure.

Damien, clearing his throat, leaned forward, voice gentle. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and…that guy, but if you need to talk about it, I’m here to listen. I like you. I’d like to keep seeing you. But if your heart’s somewhere else—”

She flinched. “It’s not. I… Lando and I aren’t dating. It’s complicated. But I’m here on this date with you,” she said, trying to cling to normalcy.

Damien offered a sad smile. “Yeah. But I’m not blind to the tension.” He gestured softly toward Lando. “If you have unresolved feelings with him, you need to figure that out, Y/N. It’s not fair to either of us otherwise.”

She nodded, feeling tears prickling. She didn’t want to break down in front of a near stranger. “You’re right,” she said, voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

Damien’s gaze was kind. “No worries. Let’s just finish dinner. We can talk afterwards.”

She offered him a grateful half-smile. As she forced down a few bites of her meal, she avoided looking at Lando. But near the end, she heard a scraping of chairs. He and his friends were leaving. Unable to control herself, she glanced up to catch him staring at her with an expression of stony, confused anger. It shot a pang of guilt straight through her. Then, without a word, he walked out. The door swung behind him, leaving her with an ache deep in her gut.

–

It was later that night, and Y/N was beyond exhausted—physically from the clack of her heels on concrete all evening, and emotionally from the drain of a lukewarm date. She’d said goodbye to Damien just outside her building, gently declining his request for a second date. Although she’d been polite, her thoughts had circled only one person the entire evening. Her heart grew heavier with every step she took toward the large glass doors of her high-rise. The cold night air bit at her cheeks, and she wanted nothing more than to escape into the warmth of her living room.

As she neared the entrance, punching in the code to unlock the main doors, a figure shifted in the shadows beside one of the pillars. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she nearly dropped her keys. She drew in a sharp breath.

From the darkness, Lando stepped out, leaning heavily against the glass. There was a ferocity in his gaze she’d never quite seen before. His arms were folded over his chest, but the tension rippling through his shoulders was almost visible. He looked like he was fighting a battle just to keep himself from exploding.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she blurted, voice shaky with a mix of adrenaline and nerves. A dozen alarm bells rang in her head—she’d never seen him look this furious, this…possessive.

He didn’t move from his spot. “Sorry,” he muttered, but there was nothing apologetic in his tone. “I knew you’d be home eventually.”

She tried to brush past him into the lobby, pressing the key fob firmly against the reader. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, forcing as much calm as she could muster. The glass doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the polished marble of the foyer.

He followed her inside, shoulders practically quivering with restrained anger. “We need to talk.”

The intensity in his eyes made her throat tighten. She hugged her arms around herself. “About what?” she spat, stepping toward the elevator. She was angry—angry with him for continuing to show up unannounced, angry with herself for the guilt she carried. She jabbed the elevator button, watching the numbers tick down from the top floor. “I have nothing to say to you.”

He slid into the elevator with her right as the doors closed, leaving them trapped in that small space. She felt his presence like static electricity, filling the air. If jealousy were a fire, he’d be an inferno right now—scorching everything in reach.

He turned, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. “About you going on a date with some other guy, when you damn well know there’s something between us.”

His voice was low, dangerous. She’d never heard such palpable fury from him. It made her heart pound wildly. She scoffed, fixing her gaze on the metallic elevator doors. “You and I have nothing,” she said icily, though her voice quivered at the end. “I’ve told you a thousand times: it wouldn’t work. But you refuse to back off. So yes, Lando, I went on a date.”

His eyes blazed as though her words poured fuel on his rage. His hand twitched at his side—she half-expected him to slam his fist against the elevator wall. “Why?” he growled, struggling to keep his volume low. “Because you think he’ll be more stable? Because you think I can’t be serious about you? That I can’t commit? Or because you wanted to hurt me, rub it in my face that you can walk away any time you want?”

She whipped her head around, eyes blazing with her own anger. “Don’t twist my intentions,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just—I don’t think you can give me what I need. You’re Lando Norris, the guy plastered all over social media with a harem of women. Even if half of it isn’t true, how am I supposed to know which half?”

The elevator dinged, but it felt more like a bomb dropping. When the doors slid open to her floor, she stormed out into the hallway, rummaging through her purse for her keys. He followed closely on her heels, the anger rolling off him like crashing waves.

She finally snagged the key, her entire body trembling with the aftershocks of their argument. “Just go home, Lando,” she muttered, not daring to look at him. She was terrified of what she might see there—hurt, or worse, a brokenness that mirrored her own.

“Not until we settle this,” he hissed. Before she could argue, he stepped in front of her door, effectively blocking it. She stared at his chest for a second, realizing she had to physically push him aside if she wanted to run. The tension in the air was suffocating.

With a furious huff, she shoved the key into the lock and shouldered past him. He slipped inside right behind her. The door slammed shut, and an uneasy silence filled the dimly lit entryway of her apartment. The glow of the city outside cast faint patterns on the wall, but the atmosphere felt like a tinderbox seconds from erupting.

“Fine,” she bit out, tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter with a little too much force. “Talk.”

He ran both hands through his hair, pacing like a caged animal, that wild, jealous energy crackling around him. “You keep spitting out all these reasons you can’t be with me,” he began, voice trembling with a mixture of rage and desperation. “All these rumors—you act like I’m the same reckless kid I was years ago. But I’m not.”

She pressed her arms tighter around herself, trying to combat the swirl of adrenaline. “How am I supposed to believe that?” she demanded, voice cracking. “The cheating rumors. The flings. The endless girls in your DMs. You want to stand there and tell me it’s all lies?”

He let out a harsh bark of laughter, frustration strangling the sound. “Not all lies. But the cheating—yes, those were lies. The hooking up—fine, it happened, but not when I had a girlfriend. I was lonely and stupid, and yeah, I messed around. But not anymore.” His fists clenched at his sides, as though the words themselves hurt coming out. “Ever since you walked into my life, I’ve done nothing but try to show you that I’ve changed. I’ve never cheated on you, never even let myself think of anyone else. But you don’t see that, do you? Because you’d rather believe I’m—”

She cut him off with a bitter laugh, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Don’t turn this on me. I’ve watched pictures of you partying with girls, read about all the nights you went clubbing while your ex was nowhere to be found. How do I know you won’t do that to me, too?”

His eyes flared with hurt. He drew in a ragged breath, then pounded his fist once, softly yet furiously, against the side of her sofa. “Stop. Stop punishing me for something I didn’t do. You want to know the truth? I hated those rumors. I hated that I didn’t do enough to shut them down. But I was too caught up in my life—racing, traveling, trying to please everyone. I can’t change that now. But I would never treat you like that.”

She sniffed, tears brimming, voice wavering. “Then how do I know—”

“You don’t,” he interrupted, voice cracking on the edges. “You either trust me or you don’t.”

For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. Her tears clung to her lashes, and the anguish in his expression was brutal. The space between them thrummed with pent-up longing and towering anger, their conflicting emotions practically vibrating in the dimly lit living room.

“That’s the problem,” she whispered finally, wiping at her eyes. “I’m scared. You’re Lando Norris. You could have anyone, and—God, look at me. I’m never going to be those girls. Never. I can’t compete with them.”

He laughed again, but it was devoid of humor, laced with sarcasm and heartbreak. “Compete with them? Compete for what? They mean nothing to me, Y/N. Nothing. Half the pictures you see are just me stuck in a club for a sponsor event or forced to smile next to models at a photoshoot. Do you think I’m sending them designer shoes or spending every spare moment trying to figure out how to get them to give me a chance?”

She closed her eyes, tears leaking down her cheeks. She hated feeling weak in front of him, but the swirl of rage and longing was too strong to contain. “You could just be infatuated. Maybe I’m the new chase, that’s all.”

Something inside him snapped at those words. He let out a sharp expletive, stepping forward, crowding her against the back of the couch. His eyes burned, voice trembling with an anger that threatened to boil over. “You really think so little of me? You think I’d be standing here like a bloody idiot, night after night, sending you flowers and calling you, chasing you across the city—just because I’m bored? How can you not see how furious it makes me, seeing you with someone else, even the idea of someone else, when I’ve done nothing but try to show you that you’re the only one I want?”

She flinched at the raw intensity in his voice. Her heart thundered, torn between fear and a twisted sense of relief that at least he cared this much. “I just—” she started, but her words failed her.

He grabbed her wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough that she couldn’t ignore him. “Do you have any idea how jealous I was tonight?” he practically snarled. “I’ve been pacing around your building, counting the hours, imagining you laughing with him, letting him touch you the way I want to—” His voice broke off, a tremor running through his shoulders. “It drove me insane.”

She swallowed hard, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Why?” she rasped. “Why do you even care?”

“Why?” he echoed. He let out a ragged breath, finally loosening his hold on her. His gaze flicked over her face, taking in every tear, every shaky breath. “Because I—” He closed his eyes, trembling. “Because I’m falling in love with you, Y/N. And it’s driving me out of my mind that you can’t see that.”

It was more of a confession than she’d ever expected, especially with so much anger behind it. She felt her whole world tilt. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her heart hammered an erratic beat.

He stared at her, eyes a storm of rage and vulnerability. “So go ahead,” he said, voice cracking. “Yell at me. Tell me you don’t believe me. Tell me all the reasons we won’t work. But don’t you dare say I don’t care. Because I do. Too damn much.”

She choked back a sob, clinging to the edge of the couch for support. “Lando—”

He moved closer, so close she felt the heat radiating from him, the raw tension. In the hush of the apartment, their frantic breaths seemed deafening. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. She didn’t know if it was the weight of his words or the sheer presence of him that shattered her defenses, but something inside her cracked wide open.

He brought a hand up, shaking slightly, and brushed the tears from her cheek. His touch was unexpectedly gentle given the fury in his eyes. “For God’s sake,” he muttered, voice tight, “just let me in. Let me show you.”

Her tears flowed freely now, a twisted mix of heartbreak and an ache for him she could no longer deny. Her lips trembled, trying to form a response, but all that came was a shaky sob. His breath hitched as if her pain sliced right through him. Suddenly, he couldn’t hold back; he looped an arm around her waist and yanked her against his chest, cradling her as if she might shatter. She stiffened at first, the shock of his physical closeness overwhelming. But then her fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and she buried her face there, letting the dam break.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered fiercely into her hair. His voice still vibrated with anger, but it was undercut by raw desperation. “I’m so fucking jealous I can’t think straight, but I— I don’t want to lose you.”

She cried against him, letting the emotions flood her. Her tears soaked into his clothes. Her body shook as she let out all the doubts, the insecurities, the fear of being betrayed or left behind. He just held her, pressing rough kisses into her hair, letting his own ragged breaths warm the top of her head.

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled back enough to look up at him. His eyes were bloodshot with pent-up emotion. She could still sense the roiling jealousy and frustration coursing through him like a living thing.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I’m sorry for always pushing you away. I’m sorry for—”

He silenced her with a searing kiss, lips crashing onto hers in a fierce, desperate claim. She gasped, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of it. Then a molten wave of longing shot through her, and she melted into him. Her arms came up around his neck, tangling in his messy curls. She sensed all that anger still there, fueling each press of his mouth, each frantic swipe of his tongue. But underneath it was something deeper—love, need, a yearning she recognized in herself.

He broke away only to rasp, “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just—don’t run. Not anymore.”

She answered by pulling him back in, their kiss turning hot and frantic. Her tears mixed with the taste of his mouth, and she felt his hands roam over her waist, her hips, dragging her impossibly close. She moaned against his lips, the press of their bodies kindling an urgency that had been building for months.

Their breaths grew ragged as he maneuvered her backward until her knees hit the couch. She sank onto it, drawing him with her. He stared down at her, chest heaving, eyes heavy-lidded with desire—and still, that anger flickered at the edges. But now, his fury morphed into a desperate need to claim her, to prove himself in a way words never could.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, voice throaty and laced with jealousy so thick it almost hurt. “Tell me you want me, not him, not anyone else. Me.”

She cupped his face between her trembling hands. “God, Lando…I do,” she whispered, tears still wet on her cheeks. “It’s always been you.”

That was all he needed. His mouth crashed onto hers once more, their kisses feverish and unrestrained. She tugged at his hoodie, pulling it up until he helped yank it over his head. Her fingers immediately splayed across the warm skin of his back, feeling the tense muscles there. He groaned at her touch, sliding a hand under her blouse to stroke the small of her back, his calloused fingertips igniting every nerve ending.

Their kiss turned hungrier, the taste of him filling her senses. She arched against him, pressing her hips up into his. His lips trailed fiery kisses along her jaw, dipping to her neck, where he bit down softly, making her gasp. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

His voice shook against her skin. “I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else,” he confessed, jealousy clinging to every syllable. “It drives me mad.”

Her breath hitched. Somehow, hearing how worked up he was, how all-consuming his feelings were, stoked her own desire. “I’m sorry,” she managed again, though it came out in a ragged whisper. “I’m— God, I’m sorry.”

He answered with another bruising kiss, leaving no space for apologies. His hand slid higher under her blouse, caressing the curve of her waist, tracing the outline of her ribcage. Her body quivered, half from the adrenaline spike, half from the sudden waves of pleasure.

Time blurred as they gave in to months of tension. She’d dreamed of this, yearned for it. But never had she imagined the raw intensity—especially not with him practically shaking from jealousy and fear of losing her. Every whispered plea, every frantic movement, carried that undercurrent of anger and heartbreak that now fed straight into a spiraling passion.

Lando’s lips claimed hers with a ferocity that left her breathless, his hands gripping her hips as if she might vanish if he loosened his hold. The taste of him was intoxicating—spiced with desperation, laced with a jealousy she could feel vibrating through every inch of his body. He pulled back only to trail kisses across her face—her cheeks, her jawline, her neck—each one a searing mark of his obsession. His mouth was everywhere, and she could barely think, let alone resist.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling as his lips brushed the sensitive spot beneath her ear. His breath hitched, and she felt the tension in his shoulders, the restrained fury and longing that had been building for months.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he growled against her skin, his hands sliding up her sides to grip the hem of her blouse. With a sharp tug, he pulled it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra. The cool air hit her skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he took her in.

His hands slid over her shoulders, down her arms, then back up to cup her face. He kissed her again, softer this time, but no less urgent. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. “I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

Her breath caught as he moved lower, his lips brushing her collarbone, her shoulders, every inch of her exposed skin. His hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra, and she arched into him, her heart pounding as the fabric fell away. The moment her breasts were bare, his eyes darkened with hunger.

“God, I’ve dreamed about this,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. His hands cupped her, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her lips. He smiled—a wicked, possessive thing—before lowering his head to take one into his mouth.

The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. His tongue swirled around her nipple, teasing and sucking, and she tangled her fingers in his curls, pulling him closer. He groaned against her skin, the sound vibrating through her chest, and she felt her hips arch involuntarily.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his lips swollen, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his voice rough. “Tell me no one else gets to touch you like this.”

She could barely think, let alone form words, but she managed to nod, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’m yours,” she whispered. “Only yours.”

That was all he needed. He dove back in, his mouth claiming her other breast with the same intensity. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin as if he were memorizing her. She writhed beneath him, her moans filling the room, her hands clutching at his back as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

He shifted, his lips trailing down her sternum, over her ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands squeezed her hips, fingers digging into her skin, and she whimpered, the sound desperate and needy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. He kissed her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, and she gasped, her back arching off the couch. His hands slid up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, before finally cupping her breasts again.

He leaned up, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss, and she could taste herself on his tongue—sweet, addictive. His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples, and she moaned into his mouth, her hips grinding against his.

“I’ve been imagining this for so long,” he confessed, pulling back just enough to speak. His breath was warm against her skin, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “Every night, I’ve dreamed about touching you like this. About feeling you beneath me. About making you moan my name.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she tugged him closer, her lips capturing his in a desperate kiss. He groaned, his hands sliding down her body to grip her hips, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hardness of him through his jeans, and she whimpered, the sound muffled against his lips.

“Lando,” she gasped, breaking the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest, fumbling with the button of his jeans. He watched her, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes filled with need.

“Wait,” he growled, catching her hands in his. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Before she could protest, he pushed her back against the couch, his lips trailing down her body once more. He kissed her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and she squirmed beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair as he reached for the waistband of her jeans. His hands were impatient, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper, and she let out a shaky laugh, half from nerves, half from the sheer intensity of his focus.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling as he tugged the denim down her hips. He kissed her exposed skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just above the edge of her panties, and she gasped, her back arching off the couch. Her jeans pooled at her ankles, and he pulled them off in one swift motion, tossing them aside without a second thought.

Her legs were bare now, her body trembling beneath his gaze. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, his eyes filled with a hunger that made her heart race. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Every inch of you.”

Her hands clenched in his hair, tugging him closer as he kissed his way back up her body. His lips found hers again, the kiss bruising, desperate, and she moaned into his mouth, her hips lifting off the couch in search of friction. He groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her still, his lips moving to her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking as his teeth grazed her nipple. He chuckled, the sound low and satisfied, before pulling back to look at her.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his eyes blazing with intent. She shivered, her body already a trembling mess beneath him, and he smirked, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs. “Not even close.”

“Lando,” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “Please.”

He looked up at her, his eyes blazing, and he didn’t say a word. Instead, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, leaving her completely bare. Her breath hitched as he stared at her, his gaze raking over her body with a hunger that made her heart race.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent. “Every inch of you.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing the inside of her thigh, and she tensed, her hands clutching the couch cushions. His breath was warm against her skin, and she whimpered, her hips lifting off the couch in a silent plea.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Please.”

He didn’t make her wait. His mouth claimed her in one swift movement, and she cried out, her back arching off the couch. His tongue swirled around her, teasing and tasting, and she tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, her hips grinding against his face. “Lando, please.”

Lando’s mouth was relentless, his tongue tracing every inch of her with a hunger that left her trembling. She could feel the slick heat of him working her, his tongue lapping at her entrance, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes that made her toes curl. “Oh, God, Lando,” she gasped, her hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could fuse him to her. His lips wrapped around her clit, sucking gently at first, then harder, and she let out a strangled cry, her hips lifting off the couch. The sensation was electric, like a current running straight to her core, and she could feel herself getting wetter, her body responding to every flick of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled against her skin, his voice rough and raw. “I’ve been dreaming about this—about how sweet you’d feel, how tight you’d be.” His tongue swirled around her clit, teasing her mercilessly, and she moaned, the sound ragged and desperate. He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his eyes blazing with a mix of lust and something deeper, something possessive. “I could spend hours here,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “Just tasting you, learning every inch of you. You’re fucking addictive.”

She whimpered, her body quivering as he dove back in, his tongue working her with a skill that left her mind blank. He added two fingers, sliding them inside her with a groan, and she cried out, her pussy clenching around him. “Jesus, you’re so tight,” he murmured, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars. “And so fucking wet—God, you’re perfect.” He pumped his fingers slowly, drawing out every gasp, every moan, and she could feel herself spiraling toward the edge. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice low and husky. “Let me hear you. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

She couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping her lips—moans, whimpers, his name repeated like a prayer. His tongue flicked over her clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, and she felt her legs quake, her body tightening like a coiled spring. “Lando, I—” she choked out, her voice breaking as the pleasure built to unbearable levels. “I’m so close—please.”

He didn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony, driving her higher and higher until she shattered. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her with a force that left her gasping for air, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she rode out the intensity. He didn’t stop, his tongue coaxing every last tremor from her body, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to her inner thighs as she came down from the high.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. He leaned up, kissing her stomach, her chest, her lips, and she could taste herself on his tongue—sweet, intoxicating. “I’m never going to get enough of you,” he confessed, his hands roaming her body, memorizing her curves. “Your pussy, your taste, the way you moan my name—it’s all fucking perfect. You’re mine, Y/N. All mine.”

She nodded, too dazed to speak, her body still humming with pleasure. He kissed her again, slow and deep, and she melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair. He pulled back just enough to smirk at her, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “And I’m just getting started.”

Lando’s hands slid under her back, his strong arms lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing. She gasped, her arms instinctively looping around his neck as he stood, cradling her against his chest. Her body felt weightless, her mind still hazy from the intensity of what he’d just done to her. He carried her through the dimly lit apartment, his steps purposeful and steady, never once breaking his gaze from hers. There was something possessive in his expression, something that made her heart race even faster.

When they reached her bedroom, he gently lowered her onto the bed, her body sinking into the softness of the mattress. She was completely bare now, her skin glowing faintly in the moonlight streaming through the windows. Her pussy was still sensitive, still throbbing from the way he’d made her come, and she could feel the slickness between her thighs as she lay there, her legs slightly parted—an unspoken invitation.

Lando stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over her with a hunger that made her shiver. His fingers gripped the hem of his hoodie, and he yanked it over his head in one swift motion, revealing his toned chest and the faint trail of hair that led down to the waistband of his jeans. She bit her lip, her gaze tracing the lines of his body, the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

He wasted no time, his hands quickly undoing the button of his jeans, the zipper sliding down with a soft hiss. He kicked them off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, the fabric barely containing the hardness straining against it. Her breath hitched as she took him in, the reality of what was about to happen finally sinking in.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he stepped closer to the bed. His hands slid up her thighs, his touch sending shivers through her. “I’ve been imagining this for so long—having you like this, seeing you laid out for me, completely mine.” He leaned down, his lips brushing her inner thigh, and she whimpered, her body arching toward him.

“Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please…”

He smirked, that wicked, possessive smile she was starting to love—and fear—as he straightened. “Patience, love,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed, and she felt the warmth of his body as he leaned over her, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re mine now, Y/N. All mine.”

Lando’s fingers traced the curve of her hip, his eyes filled with a possessive hunger that made her shiver. His breath was hot against her skin as he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. “Tell me how you want me, Y/N,” he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. “Tell me what you need from me.”

Her breath hitched, her body trembling beneath his touch. She could feel the slick heat between her thighs, the ache for him almost unbearable. “You can do whatever you want with me, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Just—please. Fuck me. However you want. I just need you inside me.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Desperate for me, huh?” he teased, his fingers sliding up her thigh, tracing the sensitive skin there. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? About me fucking you, making you mine.”

She whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed in a silent plea. “Yes,” she gasped, her hands clutching the sheets. “I need you, Lando. Please.”

He smirked, that wicked, possessive smile she was starting to love—and fear—as he straightened. Slowly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric slid down his hips, and her breath caught in her throat. He was bigger than she expected, his cock thick and hard, straining toward her. Her mouth watered at the sight, her body growing even wetter as she imagined how he would feel inside her.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want to suck you. Let me—”

He cut her off with a firm shake of his head, his hand catching her chin and tilting her face up to his. “Not tonight, love,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Tonight’s about you. About worshiping you. About finally having you in the way I’ve been dreaming of for so long.” He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a searing kiss. “You can suck me off another time. Right now, I need to be inside you. Right now, I need to see my dick sliding in and out of that pretty pussy of yours.”

Her breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. His words alone were enough to make her throb, but the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing that mattered—made her heart race even faster. She nodded, her legs falling open wider in an unspoken invitation.

Lando groaned, his hand sliding down to grip his cock, stroking himself once as he positioned himself between her thighs. “You’re mine now, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “All mine.”

Lando’s grip on her hips tightened as he lined himself up, the thick head of his cock brushing against her slick entrance. She gasped, her body instinctively arching toward his, desperate for more. Her pussy felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive and screaming for him. The way he stretched her was exquisite—a perfect mix of pleasure and a hint of pain that made her grind her hips against his, silently begging him to go deeper. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he pushed inside her, inch by torturously slow inch, filling her in a way that made her head spin. Her pussy clenched around him, as if it didn’t want to let him go, and she let out a whimper that was half pleasure, half desperation.

For Lando, it was like sliding into heaven. Her pussy was so fucking tight, gripping him like a velvet glove, and the heat of her was enough to make him see stars. He groaned, low and guttural, as he felt her walls flutter around him, her body adjusting to his size. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “You’re so goddamn perfect. Your pussy feels like it was made for me.” He leaned down, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing her moans as he pushed deeper. He could feel her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, and he knew she was just as desperate as he was.

He started to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in hard but slow, dragging the movement to prolong the unbearable pleasure. Her moans filled the room, a symphony of bliss that drove him wild. One of his hands held her hip, keeping her steady, while the other rested on the bed, his elbow bent to hold his weight above her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, her fingers tangling in his curls as she clung to him, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Lando couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone—every inch of skin he could reach. His lips traced a fiery path across her body, leaving marks that claimed her as his. “You’re mine,” he whispered against her skin, his voice thick with possession. “Every part of you. Your pussy, your moans, these fucking perfect tits—all fucking mine.” He pulled back just enough to look down at where their bodies were joined, his cock glistening with her arousal as he slid in and out of her. The sight was obscene, and it made his groin tighten with need. “Fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “Look how fucking wet you are for me. Your pussy’s sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let go.”

She cried out as he thrust deeper, her hips lifting to meet his, eager for more. The friction was almost too much, every drag of his cock inside her sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She could feel him in places she’d never felt anyone before, his length filling her completely, and the thought alone made her pussy clench around him. “Lando,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “You feel so good. So fucking good. Don’t stop—please, don’t stop.”

He growled, his thrusts becoming harder, more deliberate, as if he was trying to imprint himself on her very soul. “I’m not stopping,” he promised, his voice rough with lust. “Not until you’re screaming my name, until you’re so fucking full of me you can’t think of anyone else.” His hand slid up from her hip to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple, and she moaned, her back arching off the bed.

Her hips pressed against his, her eagerness driving him wild. He couldn’t believe how responsive she was, how perfectly she matched his rhythm, as if their bodies were made for each other. “You’re so fucking eager for me,” he muttered, his eyes blazing with need. “I love it. I love how much you fucking want me.” His lips crashed onto hers, their breaths mingling, and she could taste herself on his tongue, sweet and addictive.

Their movements grew frantic, desperate—a symphony of skin against skin, breathless moans, and the wet sound of their bodies colliding. She could feel it building, the tight coil in her core winding tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensations overwhelming—every inch of him filling her, stretching her, making her feel impossibly full. The friction was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body, and she could tell from the erratic rhythm of his thrusts that he was close too.

“Please, Lando,” she begged, her voice trembling with desperation. “Come with me. Let me feel you.”

He groaned, his forehead resting against hers as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, baby, come on my cock,” he panted, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you clench around me. Let go for me.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her pussy contracting around him in waves of pure ecstasy. It felt like fire and ice all at once—her body trembling, her vision blurring as she cried out his name. Her pussy pulsed around his cock, milking him, and the sensation was so intense she could barely breathe.

For Lando, it was heaven. Her tight, wet walls clenched around him in the most perfect rhythm, fluttering and gripping him like she never wanted to let go. He groaned, low and guttural, as he felt her orgasm ripple through her body, each contraction pulling him closer to the edge. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “Your pussy feels too fucking good. I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Where do you want it, baby?” he panted, his thrusts slowing but still deep, still deliberate. “Tell me where you want me to cum.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire, and licked her lips. “On my tits,” she whispered, her voice sultry and low. “Cover them. Make a mess of me.”

His eyes widened, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back. Her tits—god, her perfect tits—had been his obsession for so long, and the thought of covering them with his cum nearly made him lose it. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he panted, staring down at her chest like it was sacred.

She smirked, her confidence growing as she saw the way he looked at her. “You love my tits that much?” she teased, pushing them together with her hands. Her fingers kneaded the soft flesh, her nipples hard and begging for attention. “Come on, then—mark them. Make them yours.”

Lando groaned, his cock twitching inside her at the sight. Her tits were perfection—full, soft, and begging for his cum. He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out of her slowly, his cock slick with her arousal, and she whimpered at the loss of him. Her pussy felt empty, aching, but the sight of him stroking himself above her made her throb all over again.

She watched, mesmerized, as he gripped his cock, his hand moving up and down in long, deliberate strokes. Her tits were pushed together now, her hands cupping them, her fingers teasing her nipples. She loved the sight of him—his face flushed, his jaw tight as he fought for control. “Look at me, Lando,” she urged, her voice low and sultry. “You love these tits so much? Then come on them.”

He groaned, his hand moving faster, his eyes locked on her chest. “You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he said through gritted teeth. “Tits pushed up for me… fuck.”

She licked her lips, her eyes full of desire. “I want it all, Lando,” she urged, her voice trembling with need. “Cover me with it—don’t hold back.”

He groaned, his hand moving urgently over his cock as he felt his orgasm building. “You’re all mine,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “These tits are mine. I’m gonna mark them, Y/N. I’m gonna make sure everyone knows they belong to me.”

She licked her lips, her fingers teasing her nipples as she watched him. “Stroke it for me… faster. Let go. I want every drop. Cover me, Lando. Make me yours.”

Her words were the final push he needed. With a strangled moan, he came, thick ropes of cum spurting onto her tits, coating them in his release. His hand moved furiously over his cock, milking every last drop as he stared down at her, his chest heaving.

For Y/N, the sight was intoxicating. Watching him cum on her tits, seeing the way his face twisted in pleasure, the way his body trembled as he let go—it was almost as good as the orgasm he’d just given her. She felt his cum splattering against her skin, warm and sticky, and she couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. “God, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re so fucking hot like this.”

For Lando, the moment was unreal. The sight of his cum streaked across her tits, the way she looked up at him with those hungry eyes—it was enough to make his knees weak. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice rough with awe. “I could watch this all day.”

She smirked, her fingers trailing through the sticky warmth of his cum on her chest. With deliberate slowness, she dipped a single finger into the mess, coating it in his release. Her eyes never left his as she brought her finger to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste him. The salty tang of his cum hit her senses, and she moaned softly, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she sucked the finger clean. His cock still rested in his hand, twitching at the sight of her, and she could see the hunger in his eyes—raw, untamed, and absolutely desperate for her.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her voice low and dripping with desire.

His breath hitched, his body already responding to her command. He leaned down without hesitation, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their mouths collided with a hunger that left her dizzy, and she could feel the sticky remnants of his release still on her fingers as she tangled her hand in his hair, pulling him closer. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she moaned, the taste of herself mixed with him—salty, intoxicating—sending a shiver down her spine.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled against her lips, his voice rough with need. His hands slid up her sides, fingers digging into her skin as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “You’re mine, Y/N. All mine.”

She whimpered into his mouth, her body still trembling from the intensity of their connection. Her hips shifted slightly beneath him, and she could feel the heat of his arousal radiating off him, igniting her own desire all over again.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to steady themselves. “Stay here,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with something that made her heart race. He kissed her once more, quick and possessive, before pulling away.

She watched him as he disappeared into the bathroom, her chest still glistening with his release. The sight of his cum streaked across her tits made her cheeks flush, but the warmth in her chest outweighed any lingering embarrassment. He returned moments later with a warm, damp towel in hand, his eyes softening as he knelt beside the bed.

“Let me clean you up,” he said, his voice gentle but no less possessive. She nodded, her breath catching as he pressed the towel to her skin, the warmth soothing the sticky mess he’d left behind. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment of this intimacy. His eyes never left her face, and she felt her heart swell at the tenderness in his gaze.

When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and crawled back into bed, pulling her into his arms. Her body melted against his, the warmth of his skin a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room. She rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin as their breathing slowly synced.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she felt a wave of contentment wash over her. “Mine,” he added, his tone possessive but soft, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Yours,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a sense of peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe, cherished, and utterly claimed.

They lay there, tangled together, the hum of the city outside a distant reminder of the world beyond their little bubble. For now, it was just the two of them, and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Neither spoke for a while, the room thick with the mingled scents of sweat and relief. The adrenaline that had fueled their passion was giving way to a wave of emotions—vulnerability, uncertainty, a fragile sense of hope. Finally, Lando spoke, voice hoarse.

“Y/N?”

She peeked up at him, flushed. She wasn’t used to such intense intimacy, but she nestled against his warmth. “Yeah?”

He swallowed. “I… I don’t regret this. But I need you to know: I’m not just here for one night. I want you in every sense of the word. I’m serious.”

Her chest clenched with emotion. She ran a hand along his jawline, stubble prickling her fingers. “I’m scared,” she confessed quietly. “But… I want you, too. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

His gaze softened. “Then let’s try. Let me show you I can be the man you need. I’ll prove it however long it takes.”

She closed her eyes, soaking in the moment, in the warmth of his embrace. The city lights shimmered outside, as if reflecting her tumultuous inner world. In that moment, though, she let herself believe in the possibility, let the anger and hurt recede in the face of the closeness they’d found.

The hours after their passionate collision were a storm of emotions. She felt a ripple of self-consciousness, but he only looked at her with the same unguarded admiration as before, as though he couldn’t believe she was real.

In the faint glow of the bedside lamp, she saw him glancing around her bedroom—how neatly organized it was, how it contrasted with the chaos they’d just unleashed in the living room. He let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the pillows.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed about just being near you,” he said quietly.

She swallowed a lump of emotion, sinking onto the mattress beside him. “Why me?” she whispered, the familiar insecurity creeping back. “You could have anyone.”

He caught her chin gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You keep saying that, but the truth is, not everyone is you. I’ve met countless people. You’re different. It’s in the way you carry yourself, the way you see the world, the way you call me out on my bullshit. And… I can’t even describe it. I just know I want no one else.”

She felt tears threaten again, but they were tears of a tender ache this time, not the angry sting of earlier. “I guess… I need to learn how to trust that.”

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Let me earn that trust.”

She scooted closer, letting her head rest on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of him lull her into a sense of security she’d never quite felt before. Deep down, she knew they had miles to go—her fears about his reputation, her wariness about the future, and the question of whether he would eventually tire of her or not. But for now, she let herself savor this fleeting peace, the sense of belonging in his arms.

Because after nine months of running, she was finally letting herself be caught.

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