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#I have more to say than just what is here
pucksandpower · 2 days
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Free Fucking Country
Max Verstappen x First Daughter of the US!Reader
Summary: the FIA needs a reality check — you’ve known this since they decided to punish your grown ass boyfriend for daring to say “fucked” in a press conference — and what better way to do this than by taking full advantage of your First Amendment rights … live on camera?
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The Texas sun beats down on the circuit. You’re standing off to the side, watching the race from a monitor, arms crossed. There’s an edge to your stance, a tightness in your jaw that no one’s missed, least of all Nico Rosberg.
“You look like you’re going to murder someone,” Nico says, chuckling under his breath. “Who’s the unlucky victim?”
You shoot him a sideways glance, not quite smiling. “Not someone. More like the entire FIA.”
Jenson Button raises a brow from his spot beside Nico. He’s been fiddling with a microphone, but now his full attention is on you. “Ah. Still upset about Singapore, then?”
You roll your eyes. “Still upset? I’m livid, Jenson. They punished Max for swearing. Swearing. Like, are we adults or are we running a kindergarten here?”
Nico and Jenson exchange a look, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.
“They’ve done worse to other drivers, to be fair,” Nico says, playing the diplomat despite the thirst for drama you know is itching to escape.
“I don’t care!” Your voice rises a little, and you realize you’re pacing now, hands flying around in frustration. “They target Max like he’s public enemy number one, and I swear it’s just because he’s honest. They can’t handle it when someone actually tells the truth!”
Nico nods, clearly amused by your rant but trying to stay neutral. “True. Max does have a ... blunt way of putting things.”
“He shouldn’t have to censor himself. It’s not like he was even that bad. They act like he threatened to burn down the paddock.” You huff, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “It’s just so stupid.”
Nico leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what are you going to do? You’re not exactly on the FIA’s Christmas card list either.”
A slow grin spreads across your face, and Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no. I don’t like that look. That’s trouble.”
Jenson smirks. “What’s she planning?”
“I need a favor,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief. You glance over at the camera setup behind them. “Can I borrow your camera for a minute?”
Both men stare at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“You want to go live? On Sky Sports?” Jenson asks, blinking in disbelief.
You shrug. “Why not?”
Nico shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re something else.”
But he steps aside, making way for you to take his place. “Alright, have at it. Just … maybe don’t get us all banned from the paddock, yeah?”
You wink. “No promises.”
Without missing a beat, you step in front of the camera, and within seconds, you’re live. Your pulse quickens, adrenaline buzzing in your veins. The weight of the moment hits you, but it only fuels your determination.
You clear your throat. “Hi, everyone! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood First Daughter, coming to you live from the US Grand Prix. Now, before we get back to the race, I have something I need to get off my chest.”
Nico and Jenson are barely holding back their laughter behind you, but you ignore them, fixing your gaze on the lens.
“Max Verstappen got punished for swearing during a press conference last week. Punished. For swearing. And you know what? That’s bullshit.”
The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and unfiltered. There’s a moment of stunned silence around you as people start to realize what’s happening.
You keep going, voice rising with every sentence. “The FIA is out of control. They’re so focused on micromanaging everything that they’ve forgotten what this sport is supposed to be about. Racing. Competition. Passion.”
Nico’s eyes widen as he leans toward Jenson. “Oh my God, she’s really doing it.”
Jenson just grins, watching in awe. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
You don’t let up. “You want to punish someone for being honest? For being real? Then punish me too, because I’m about to say a hell of a lot more.”
You can see people gathering around, eyes glued to the monitors. You’ve got their attention now, and you’re not backing down.
“The FIA is so far up their own asses, they can’t see what’s really going on. Drivers are out there risking their lives, pushing the limits, and all they care about is how polite they are in a press conference? Are you fucking kidding me?”
You wave your hands around, the frustration boiling over. “I’m sick of this shitty double standard. Max gets penalized for cursing, but the countless times that the FIA has done something much worse? Silence. It’s ridiculous.”
By now, there’s a crowd forming around you. You see a few FIA officials watching from the corner, looking like they’re trying to figure out what to do. You don’t stop.
“If the FIA wants to keep policing language, they should start by looking at themselves. They’re a bunch of fucking hypocrites who don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a real racer. They’re killing the spirit of the sport.”
Just then, you spot one of the stewards marching toward you, followed by two security guards. You flash a grin at the camera. “Oh look, here they come. The fun police.”
The steward, a stern-looking man with a clipboard, stops right in front of you. “Ma’am, you need to leave immediately.”
You laugh, leaning into the camera, making sure everyone’s still watching. “Really? You’re gonna kick me out for talking? Last time I checked, this is a free fucking country. First Amendment, bitches! Try to shut me up, I dare you.”
The steward’s face reddens. “You need to leave, now.
But before the security guards can even move, your Secret Service detail materializes out of nowhere, surrounding you. They stand tall, arms crossed, ready to intervene.
You laugh again, this time louder. “Oh, you didn’t think about that, did you? You can’t kick me out. What are you gonna do, arrest the President’s daughter on live TV?”
The steward looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s nothing he can do. He steps back, clearly out of his depth, while the camera continues rolling.
You take a deep breath, calming down just enough to finish your rant with a flourish. “So, FIA, if you’re watching — and I know you are — get your act together. Start treating the drivers like adults, and stop with the petty bullshit. Or I swear, I’ll make it my mission to drag you on the broadcast every single fucking race.”
Before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you. You turn just in time to see Max walking up, eyes wide, clearly catching on to what’s happening. He looks from you to the cameras, then back to you, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Without a word, he steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sudden, unexpected, but it’s the kind of kiss that makes time stop, the kind that speaks louder than words.
When he pulls away, there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “You always know how to make a scene.”
You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Someone’s gotta stand up for you.”
Max laughs, shaking his head. “Well, you sure did.”
Nico and Jenson are clapping from behind, both of them thoroughly entertained. Jenson leans into the camera, grinning from ear to ear. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N, everybody.”
You step back, still grinning, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The steward looks like he’s given up entirely, and the crowd is buzzing with energy.
Max leans in close, his voice low. “You know you’re going to get a lot of hate for this, right?”
You shrug, glancing up at him. “Let them try. I’m not scared of a little backlash.”
He shakes his head, eyes shining with admiration. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’m just getting started.”
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Honestly, "high art" of any kind isn't really any more or less incomprehensible or unapproachable than Tumblr meme culture. It's basically the same kind of thing, really, but with a longer time span and more reading to catch up to - things making references to things that were a thing earlier, and everyone kind of supposes that everyone who sees the work also has some background knowledge of the previous work being referred. Just imagine an art history teacher breaking down a tumblr post like
"...And here we see the next poster replying with this image. Here, this image of a statue has a very exact symbolic meaning. The figure of the statue is the Greek god Apollo, here in his role as a prophetic deity, which you may have concluded from the original post referring to future events that may or may not come to pass. In his hand, he is holding a dodgeball, raised on the level of his head, as if ready to throw it. The threatening aura of the image is multiplied by the way the statue's eyes have been edited to gleam omniously - the poster replying to the Original Post is expressing a symbolic, indirect threat, that the future that the Original Post's author described might come to pass, as if the patron deity of oracles had personally cursed the Original Poster to a fleeting gift of prophecy, as swift and brutal as being slammed with a dodgeball."
[scrolling down powerpoint presentation]
"...The second reply, here, has an image of a smiling woman wearing a helmet, standing in a row of people in similar uniforms. This reply requires some slightly deeper konwledge of Tumblr meme lore to understand - the image is a fragmet of a larger whole: a single frame of a gif, of a clip from the movie Starship Troopers. What is important here is the omitted context, which is the line that this nameless character famously says in the scene: 'I'm doing my part!' By posting this image, instead of the entire captioned gif, the replier highlights the implied obvious meaning behind it: They are not merely announcing their intention to actively work to see that the future that the Original Poster foresaw will come to pass, but wordlessly taunt them by implying 'you already know what I mean to do.' It is - in joking - a threat."
"And as you see here, the Original Poster has replied to these comments with a gif, which depicts an encounter between two robotic arms. The swift and dynamic action of the gif serves to express the OP's emotions, as the first robot represents the author themselves, and the second one is a stand-in for the two previous repliers. The way the first robot arm grabs the second one and starts beating it against the floor represents the author's anger. As surrogates for the two parties engaged in the conversation, the author is expressing their personal desire to grab the two previous posters and violently beat them against the floor."
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God's TV- DC x DP prompt
Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.
So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.
Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.
It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.
No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.
It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.
A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.
Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.
"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.
While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.
Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.
"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.
"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.
Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.
"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.
Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.
Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.
"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.
"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.
"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.
The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.
It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.
Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.
"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.
"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.
"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.
"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.
"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."
"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.
"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."
"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"
"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.
"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.
"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.
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defmaybe · 2 days
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J’adore
5.2k words
aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader
Prequel to Not Shy
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A/N: Kind of extension to Not Shy! Also, this is my last sprint before the midterms lol, I’ll be back after that and try to write something good. Kinda rough bc there’s no beta-reading lol. Thanks for reading as always!!!
Spring
“You? A student council member?”
“It’s just the treasurer!”
It’s the easiest position, according to your seniors, which seems to be much, much more credible sources than Kai, the friend you got caught in a debate with.
“Just the treasurer. Mate, have you seen the lads from last year? I swear that one of them almost died.”
“I have to build my portfolio, man. You even have your dance club!” You retort, trying to grasp on something.
“Well, it’s because I like to dance.” Kai says in a mocking tone. He doesn't mean to be condescending, of course. He’s your best friend, after all. “Do you like to work with Excel?”
“I mean–”
“Board games? No, too nerdy. Cheerleader? No, too demanding. And then you fucking jumped onto the student council? I swear, man, you definitely have some kind of death wish,” he says.
You sigh, surrendering to his points. Still, you're too deep in the application process to turn back now. You look back at your phone, seeing all the completed questions in the form.
“I’m not leaving you behind, still,” Kai says, patting your back. “I’ll give you caffeine when you need it.”
Do you think you’re qualified to be a student council member?
Yes.
“I’m sending it now.”
“Good luck.”
Submit
Thank you for your submission. We will announce our selection by May 1st.
Summer
Maybe it was how the last year’s council members turned out to be. You were the only one who applied for the treasurer's position. Hell, even the other ones aren’t any more popular either. There was no one in the head of first aid, and they had to roll out another round of applications for that.
The fresh faces of the new student council members are all standing inside this meeting room—so determined, so passionate. Their chatters fill the room up with life.
You glance around the room. You’re familiar with some of them, walk-pasts in the hallways, sitting-fars in the classes, until one woman catches your eye.
Yoo Jimin, you’ve heard that she beat the second place applicant for president by quite a margin. Her confidence is probably what makes her so alluring to the students. Also, her face, fuck, her face, she’s the fucking epitome of perfection.
Maybe it’s the way you stare at her for just a little too long; she starts to walk towards you, and that’s when you fell into her trap for the first time.
She stops just a step away, offering you a handshake—firm, assured.
“Yoo Jimin,” she declares—stern, expressionless.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jimin.” You accept her grip, lips curling inward, letting out a minuscule smile—relaxed, reserved.
“We’ll be working together for the next year. I’m looking forward to it.” She keeps it professional in the expression she makes. There’s nothing to be made of it, except for the fact that she’s very reticent with her face.
You force out another small smile. “I’m also looking forward to it, Jimin.”
“Areas! I need two tables and four chairs. Parcels, get your equipment ready.”
The first meeting between the freshmen and their seniors is always the hardest to perfect. There’s the idea that the first impression defines the future of the relationship between the two. So, here you are, in your faculty’s First Meet event. You’re lucky that they let you use the air conditioners on the d-day. Those fucking run-throughs got you all melted.
You have little work to do today, having managed the proposals and preparing to do the post-production stuff. So, you’re at the core team’s table, playing whatever your old laptop can handle, until—
“Are you free?”
You look up from your screen to see the angelic figure that is Yoo Jimin standing in front of you, towering you with ease with you sitting in your seat.
“Uh–,” you can only let out a hesitation.
“I guess you’re—” she bends over the desk to see the gaming screen, before letting out a small laugh. “—free?”
“Y–Yes, Jimin.” A slight view of her cleavage can be seen with her posture, and you have to do your best to find something else to look at.
“Good. Can you help us carry a few tables?”
You look at your frail arms—should’ve done some more work at the gym. “If you want me to tear my biceps.”
Jimin chuckles, before closing on your ear, left hand pressing on your right thigh, “Don’t worry that you wouldn’t be able to jerk off, treasurer. I can do it for you.”
You freeze, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. Did she just say that? Such lewd words?
Jimin, sensing your tensed up body, pulls back from you and laughs. “Oh my god, look at you. I was just fucking with you!”
“Good grief, Jimin. You could’ve killed me,” you huff.
She shoots back a beam. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
Fall
The clicking sound of your keyboard and the scratches of the bills you’re arranging permeates the room this evening. Jimin is sitting on the other side of the trash-ridden table—stationeries, snack wraps—eyes unfocused as she swipes one short video after another. Her thoughts seem to be elsewhere now. Dinner? Bed? Someone? You’ll never know.
“Fucking hell, this bitch again,” she mutters under her breath, which you catch. You look up from the budget plan you’re working on, meeting her eyes.
“Sorry, Tinder stuff.”
You return her a tiny smile before going back to inputting the bills. Still, you can hear Jimin’s tossing and turning in her chair as she seems to type something into her phone, before smashing her thumb on the right side of its poor screen. You can’t help but let out a chuckle, one that she catches.
“Yeah, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” Jimin rhetorizes, placing her phone on the table. “A student president that just can’t find any partner.”
You shrug, still typing, “Well, the work is gruelling.” And she chuckles at your statement.
“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s just, how to explain?” She furrows her eyebrows, tapping her chin to seek the right word in the air, before coming to an answer. “I just can’t find the right person, you know? Half of the line is gone once I show any bit of confidence, and the other half are, well, clingy ass bitches.”
You smile back at her, trying to give her some solace in solitude. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon, Jimin. You like–have the whole faculty in your hands.”
She gives you a weak smile. “You always have pleasant words for everyone, treasurer.”
You smile back before returning to your accounting work, unbeknownst to the light bulb brightening up inside her head.
“So, how’s your love life?” She asks, rising from the other side. She leans forward ever so slightly, hands supporting her frame on the white table, slightly revealing the valley of her breasts.
You break yourself from the laptop, once again, meeting her cleavage in your line of sight for a split second. It’s magnetic, but you’re able to resist it, for now.
“Hmm?”
“I mean… you don’t seem to be an awful choice for women, or men, judging from… how many months?”
“Four,” and you gulp.
“Yeah, four months with you, my treasurer. But I’ve never quite caught you being involved in anything,”—she stands up straight, before slowly striding towards your seat, hips swaying at each nifty step—“romantic.”
You clench your eyes ever so tightly at her alluring motion—the swaying hips, the crossing steps—as if there’s anything to examine but her burning lust. “Well, Jimin, I don’t think the passive mid-table guys get much,” you state.
“Is that so? Because you don’t seem to belong at the mid-table.” The distance between you two is shrinking, slowly. And with a few more small steps, you find her towering over you, chest basking in front of your face.
Jimin bends down slowly, revealing just a slight sight of her gorgeous cleavage. The poor crop top is struggling to hold her supple flesh within, even with the workshop shirt helping. You shift just slightly in your seat.
Your eyes are doing their best to resist the magnetic force, but her big brown eyes aren't a sanctuary, either.
“Thanks, miss president.”
Her Dior J’adore is enrapturing you.
“You know, I notice the perfume you wear every day, even if it’s just CK One.” She forces sultry into her perceptive words, and to say, it works. She drags her right middle finger along the length of your arm, lighting a fire in its trail.
You try to keep your composure; it works, for now. She doesn’t seem to notice the sweat hanging off your forehead yet.
“Or how you dress so damn well to class, even if it’s some fuckass subject,” Jimin continues, tracing her hands up to your forearm now.
Your breath hitches, and you can just connect the dots so easily.
“W–Why me, though, Jimin?”
“Oh, clever boy, I just need the real thing, that’s all,” she coos. Her digits are playing with the line of your collarbones now. 
“See, I’m just so fucking sick of my—well, what’s the word, devices. They’re pleasurable, sure, but unlike a real person, which in this case—is you—” Her hand grabs your chin from behind, and you can’t find any resistance. Her sonic reduces into a sensual whisper into your ear. “—they lack warmth.”
“S–So, do you want to have—”
“Sex? Yes, I want you inside me, baby. I want you body clashing against mine, while you moan my name like you’re some common whore.”
It’s haywire, your mind. You are lost in her—her voice, her face, her body, everything that’s about Jimin. Is she really inviting you to have sex with her? Is this interaction even real?
“So, what do you say, wanna go somewhere after this? Somewhere—small, somewhere—private.” Her voice dives into a whisper beside your ear, and you can feel a smile forming beside it. “I’m sure you can work on your bills—anywhere.”
You stare forward, trying to look unfazed to cover your crumbling composure.
“I–I can work on the bills anywhere, Jimin.” Your voice betrays you.
She gives a quiet laugh, “Good to know, treasurer,” before lightly grabbing your chin, with her index and middle finger resting on your lips. Are they seeking silence or entry?
Slowly, they push your upper lip ever so slightly, eliciting a whimper from you. Fuck, is she trying to—
“You know what to do, baby.”
Rejection.
Hesitation.
Submission.
You open your mouth for her—now courtesy of Yoo Jimin. You take in her fingers. They’re cold from the air conditioner. Bite. Lick. Swallow. You close your eyes while doing so, absorbing her taste with your tongue. You feel you’re under her control—so submissive. It’s ecstatic.
“God, do you like being called a whore? Because you’re acting like one right now,” Jimin asks.
You profusely nod at her statement, continuing to suck on her fingers.
“Then keep doing it, whore.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you can hear her giggle. And as your vision comes back to her, the free hand is rubbing against her clothed core now. Mewling sounds can be heard.
“God, keep sucking it, baby. I’ve never cummed as fast as this before.”
“Ngh.” And you keep sucking her fingers.
A sound of the door stops you in your tracks though.
“Guys, I need a few chairs–am I interrupting something?”
Ning Yizhuo, head of student welfare, barges into the room. She stares straight at you two. Good thing Jimin pulls her digits out and puts them behind her back before Yizhuo’s eyes catch sight of you glistening on her, leaving you stranded in your burning desire for your president.
Maybe it’s the way your eyes are still fluttering. Maybe it’s the way your mouth ever so slightly hangs open. Maybe it’s your quick breaths.
Yizhuo wants to know what’s up.
“We’re just–” Jimin tries to find the right word in your eyes. Her blinks are rapid. She’s concerned. She’s afraid.
“You’re–what?” Yizhuo isn’t a patient figure. She’s trying to gauge something out of Karina.
“I–I’m adjusting his posture! O–Our dear treasurer has a bad sitting posture and–”
“Cut the shit, Jimin. What the fuck did you guys do?”
“S–See, he’s sitting a lot, you know? B–Bills. Accounting. Excel stuff.” Jimin’s brows hint at the concern within her chuckle. She pushes the middle of your back to set you straight up. As you follow her move, Yizhuo clenches her eyes.
“Just get me some chairs and don’t fuck inside this room.”
Jimin swings her door open, and as expected, every single bit of it is immaculately kept clean. There’s not a single piece of trash on the floor of her white room; the table is meticulously arranged; the bed is folded. There’s a Meteora vinyl placed on her shelf. God, what a tasteful woman.
“Drop your bag.”
You comply as she also does so.
And she immediately pounces on your body, consuming your taste and scent at your nape. Her lips are wet, sending shocks through your pliant frame.
“Mmph, keep this perfume, baby. I just wanna have this scent of you every day.”
It’s CK One.
She plants her kisses along your neck—standing up straight—ever so determined to make you hers. Her hands lock your shifting, shaking body in place, despite being so eager to feel every inch of you—up and down.
“So—pliant, so—submissive,” she whispers.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you deflect, trying to have a hold of the battle. There’s a glint of brattiness inside you that wants to resist her just a little, just before you give in.
“Is that so?” Jimin mewls, before pushing you onto the bed.
“I’m not letting you have me that easily, miss president,” you say with your back against her soft cushion. Jimin is straddling her lean, lengthy legs over yours. She looks so damn tall from this view—you lying beneath her.
“Sucking my fingers, then decide to be a bratty bitch right now—” She lightly taps the tip of your nose, also scrunching hers. “—I like that.”
You say nothing, giving her just a wink from below.
“Oh, baby, I’ll have you scream my name so many times.”
“Fucking make me then.”
And fires ignite in her eyes.
She dives onto your left ear—nibbling, biting, swallowing, whatever she can do with her mouth without tearing your auricle off. Her deep moans send suppressed shudders through your neurons.
Jimin spreads saliva all over your ear, no sign of relenting. Slurping sounds of her flesh ring in your head. She plants each lick with purpose, and it sends jolts and jolts through your body. Still, you’re far from falling apart—tethered on the ground.
“Tsk, i–is this the best y–you can do?”
“Oh, baby, you’re already stuttering? I can do more if you want~,” she tastefully threatens. Then, she brings her right hand into play, tilting your chin up. Your mouth is right beside her neck. The pale smoothness of her skin is presented in front of you, and you just can’t help but—
“F–Fuck!” Jimin yells, clearly enraptured with the swipes of tongue you are giving her. Still, she keeps spreading her saliva on your ear as if it’s hers (it’s hers).
“Oh, b–baby boy, maybe you can use your t–tongue on other things instead,” she whines.
“Your cunt?” You keep stretching your tongue onto her nape, getting a taste of her sweat.
She pulls back from you, robbing the sensations away from your throat. “Clever, now just lie like this. I’m riding your pretty face.”
Jimin then takes off her purple lace panties, giving you a hint of her wet cunt—unshaved—as she lifts her leg, before stuffing the garment onto your nose. Fuck, her musk is so intense; you can just die happily right here.
“You just love it, don’t you?”
You sheepishly nod, pressing her panties against your nose even tighter, eliciting laughs from her sinful mouth.
“I think that’s enough, baby. I wanna fuck your face now,” she says, before tossing away the filthy garment.
Jimin then moves forward on her knees, bringing her heat closer and closer to your face. God, the fact that she’s unshaved only brings you higher. You need to slurp her juice; you need it on your face, you–
“Ready?”
Her cunt is hovering above you now, she’s pulling her skirt up, letting you see her face for the last time before being buried under her.
You nod.
And she sinks onto your face.
The first contact is soft, so, so soft. You’re practically making out with pussy, as she shakes above you erratically. There isn’t much light, with her skirt darkening your vision of what’s around, but it’s like you’d complain. You’re eating your student president out in her room, and you’re doing it so, so well that it sends shivers through her body, again and again.
“Ngh, f–fuck!” Jimin shouts from above—the things you’d do to see her face right now, to see an effect you’re having on her.
You say nothing, just keep lapping up her folds enthusiastically. Her juice drips into your mouth—sweet.
Jimin starts to grind her hips, as the moans grow louder. She’s getting wetter, and you’re still happily drinking her sugary nectar—drunk with it.
“Ah, ah, y–you’re doing well, my treasurer.”
You give her a thumbs up. You keep licking her cunt as if your life is depending on it. She moans so loud; everyone on this floor is probably going to hear that, but you don’t care anymore. The only thing in your head right now is to please Jimin—only Yoo Jimin.
And you can feel her thighs tense, shaking with pleasure. She’s going to cum. Her moans grow more chaotic and shorter than they were.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”
She cums hard, collapsing onto the bed, cunt still on your face, ass up in the air. Her core clenches and clenches on your face, and she just forgets to breathe as her hips convulse.
“No squirt today, huh?” you joke from below.
She snaps back into the situation she’s in, sneering, “Fuck off, don’t fucking play stupid with me, wh–whore.”
You laugh, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the main course, shall we?”
“Y–Yeah.”
Jimin lifts off from you, leaving a string of her lubricant between your lips and her cunt.
“God, that’s hot,” you just can’t help but say it.
She giggles, and you can now see the sweat forming on her forehead; there’s beauty in it.
You two, in a haste, discard all of your clothes until you’re left with nothing—just bare bodies on the bed together. You’re sitting opposite of her, expecting her to say something.
She looks ethereal under the room light. The messy hair, the perfect features, the bare body, they all combine into the epitome of perfection right in front of you. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
“Can I suck your tits?” you mutter. Fuck reticence, you need her, now.
She chuckles. “Sure, but only if I’m on top of you.”
“You just have to find a way to dominate me, don’t you?” you huff.
“Don’t say it like you don’t like it, baby.” She caresses your cheeks, and you shiver at her touch.
You lie down, as she slowly eclipses the light above both of you. Her large breasts are hanging down so close to your face. And—
“F–Fuck!”
You latch your mouth on her right breast as if it’s innate, with your hand kneading on the other. She lets out empyrean moans that only makes you want to suck on them even more. God, you can do this all day.
And not wanting to wait anymore, she impales her cunt with your cock, and you can only moan into her tits. This sensation, it’s overwhelming. Her velvety walls are hugging you so, so tightly. It’s so warm. She’s warm.
“Fuck,” she groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Your cock is so well-bent, baby. It’s hitting my g-spot so good.”
“T–Thanks, J–Jimin.” Your mind is so damn clouded by the pleasure that you can say nothing but her name right now.
And a crack starts to form when she moves—up and down. Her unshaved cunt dragging along your digit, emanating pleasure all over your body from the core.
“B–Babe, c–can you stop s–sucking my tits?” she pleads.
You pull yourself out of her mounds, as she’s still riding you like there’s no tomorrow, and you let out small moans at each contact. “W–What? Ngh.”
“I wanna kiss you.”
You freeze under her. She’s still motioning herself to squeeze the cum out of you, whimpering each time your cock hits the hilt. Is it a confession? Does she love—
“B–Babe,” she brings you back to the mortal world.
“Y–Yeah, kiss me.”
She invades your mouth as if it wasn’t already hers at the second she sits on your face. Your tongues intertwine in a quest to declare their feelings of their owners.
Your hands are still squeezing her breasts. It’s addictive. You press and press into her flesh just to feel her as much as you can. This might as well be the only body you want to have just to yourself, as you dedicate yours to her. Every curve, every contour, every limb, you want her; you want her to want you; you need her. This kiss, fuck, it’s doing wonders to you.
She’d be the one to break off from the kiss to pant above you, hips still smashing into yours in a perfect rhythm.
“W–Wanna go out with me?” she asks.
She’s desperate, all the Tinder dates, all the–
“Babe, I–I fucking know that it’s desperate, yes or no. Fuck those Tinder dates, fuck those guys and girls, I–I want to go out with you, t–treasurer,” she pants.
Maybe it’s her J’adore that’s permeating all over you. Maybe it’s the way your hips are clashing into each other. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the glint in her eyes.
But if you have to recall, it’d be the confidence she’s radiating in clashing your flesh together just right now.
You nod.
Jimin smiles, pulling you into another kiss. You swear it can tear you apart if you have to let this woman go—figuratively.
She pulls off, her breaths becoming shorter and shorter again. “C–Can you cum with me, baby?”
Again, you nod, smiling. It’s inside your loins, building up, building up. Your body tenses up beneath her, same as hers. It’s there. It’s there.
“Fuck, baby, breed me. I’m yours, just breed me, just–ugh!”
And her whole body freezes, juices flowing onto your crotch. Her face is contorted by the pleasure coursing through her. Again, she forgets to breathe, back arching. You don’t slow down, though. Your orgasm is coming too.
“B–Babe–ah!”
It breaks. You busy yourself inside her to the hilt. Just like her, you forget to breathe. You shoot spurts of your seed deep into her womb, intending to breed her as her wish. Your cock shakes inside her, as she moans at each twitch.
It subsides, eventually. The shots get softer and softer to the point the cum just dribbles off the tip of you now. Fuck, your juices even leak out of her cunt onto your crotch, mixed together.
“F–Fuck,” is all she can say, before collapsing onto you, chest pressed up against yours.
“The plan’s still up?”
“Yeah.”
And she slips to the side, embracing you from behind, as you two doze off in the nocturne.
“Can I use your toothbrush?”
A long drag of uncertainty comes from the outside. Sun has risen hours ago, yet you two are still in the drowsy state.
“Or do I have to kiss you again for the answer, Jimin?”
“Put your morning breath away from me!”
At least she’s quick with her riposte.
As you brush your teeth, naked, she saunters into the bathroom, still similarly bare from last night. Her breasts bounce ever so slightly with each step in the mirror. Despite the disheveled appearance, her natural beauty shines through the mess—a seraphic being, one might say.
“Ha, yeah, I know I’m pretty, baby,” she says. “People would kill to have a body like me.”
You finish your clean up, before saying, “You’re insufferable, you know?”
Jimin laughs, before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, emanating mellow all over your face. Fuck, you can feel the blood rushing to your erection now.
“You too, babe.” She smiles, before grabbing her mouthwash for a gargling.
Your cock, again, finds the condition to rise in front of this woman. It’s twitching, and you just have to turn back before she notices it.
Still, her sharp eyes find you, and she gives you a small slap on your bare ass, sending pleasure rushing through your body.
“Hey!” she growls with the mouthwash, before quickly disposing of it. “You’re fucking hard again?”
“I–I–I–uh–”
Jimin then presses herself up against your back, arms ever so tightly trapping you from behind in a hug. It’s warm. She’s warm.
“Let me, baby,” she whispers against your wobbling right ear. “I can’t have my co-workers’ needs go unsated.”
“F–Fucking hell.”
In one careful motion, Jimin slides her arms down to your erection, right hand grabbing the length. “Wouldn’t mind some respect from my baby boy~” Her grip and the languid, careful strokes make your legs wobble.
“Tsk, n–no fucking way, J–Jimin,” you muster any inhibition you have left to deflect.
“Well, then.” Jimin then tightens her hold on your cock, transpiring both pain and pleasure to you. “How about now?”
“Nghhhh, f–fuck,” you cry out, the contorted expression appears in the mirror.
“Just like that, baby, moan for me. Show me who owns you,” Jimin coos, loosening her hold a slight, still keeping the adagio tempo.
“Nnnh, J–Jimin.”
“Good boy, good boy,” she murmurs.
She drags her filthy hand up and down your cock so leisurely, finding the rhythm for your pliancy. She strokes and strokes to build you up to the second release with her, this time by her hand.
It feels like eternity—the way her unhurried digits find the pace that would make you want so much more, or how she whispers ‘good boy’ into your ear every time she wants a whiff of reassurance of control. It’s like she needs one, anyway, judging by how you’re moaning like a bitch right now.
“God, you’re making so much sound for me.” The way she swipes her index finger at the tip of your cock on each stroke, fuck, you can fall onto the floor right here and now. “Wanna see your face in the mirror, baby?”
You turn your head leftwards to find reflections of a contorted face and a grin side by side. Her hand is diligent as ever—building you up to your inevitable release.
“What do you say, baby? Wanna see our faces in the mirror?” she inquires again. You can feel a mischievous smile beside your ear.
“Ngnh, a–alright.”
With ease, she forces your body to turn into your image of the ball of lust—the shower of kisses on your neck; the hand sliding up and down your cock; the thigh pressing up against your ass. You shift and shift within her restraint, and that seems to only fuel her fire.
“Moan some more for me, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I want my men moaning.”
You comply, letting out a series of whimpers just for your student president. The sensation of her hand is so damn enthralling—each slide, each nick of a finger, each twist of her wrist, they are all designed to make you surrender to her.
“Good boy. Your moans are so pleasing to hear, you know that?”
“Nngh, t–thanks, Jimin.”
“Wanna up the ante, baby? I can do it faster~” As if her languid tempo isn’t already doing its job in trapping you inside her overflowing lust.
You hesitate, finding yourself wanting this act to go on to such lengths, maybe even when the sun sets again. Being under her comforting warmth is too satisfying.
“I–I don’t know, Jimin.”
“Oh, this baby can’t decide? Guess I’ll just have to–”
She suddenly lets go of your length, cutting your string of desire so easily. You whine, as Jimin lets out a laugh.
“Don’t!” you say in a rush, and letting go the hand you haven’t realized you’ve been holding—hers.
Jimin giggles. “Say please, baby.” She tightens her hug on you, squeezing the plea out.
Your eyes meet hers in the mirror.
“Please, Jimin.”
“Good boy.” And she wraps her hand around your erection again, casually stroking it.
“Ngh.”
The sound of her jerking your shaft fills the room. It’s heavenly—her voluptuous chest pressing up against your arching back with right hand busy sliding on your rod. She does it so cleanly—the technique, the pace. You swear you will cum by the second she whispers another ‘good boy’ into your welcoming ears.
As if she knows your inevitable release, she seeks a higher speed on your cock, stroking it with a swiftness that tries to draw out your moan and your cum as much as she can.
“Ngh, J–Jimin,” you whimper.
“Oh, gonna cum already, baby?” Jimin giggles at your crumble, before giving a peck on your left cheek. “Go on, cum for me. Cum, just like you did last night inside me.”
White spots start to form within your vision. Your breaths become more erratic. It’s there. It’s there.
“Jimin~”
And you explode all over her mirror, painting white streaks on it. You are left with ecstasy on your face as Jimin smiles at your release. Your body shrieks and shudders in her embrace. Your cock twitches in her hand, sending flying ropes of cum everywhere. Fuck.
“Yes, baby, just like that.” Her voice is deep—so seductive.
You continue to shake in her hold, not being able to subside from your high so quickly. Your release grows lighter and lighter in her hand, until it comes out in drops, finally letting you catch your breath.
“Good boy,” Jimin says, before forcing your body towards hers. You are spun around, and she gives you a kiss.
It’s short, but it’s powerful—no tongue fighting for dominance, no slurping sounds, just a kiss.
And she pulls back from it once she’s satisfied, judging from the smile on her face.
“Wanna do this again?” she asks.
“Definitely—well—maybe. You know Yizhuo would beat our asses if she catches us again, right?”
“Just shut up, babe. She won’t know if you’re good with secrets like me.”
You pout, bringing out a laugh from her.
Winter
“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Kai asks.
You give him a small smile. “It’s bearable, yeah.”
“Good to know, good to know.” He then takes a sip of his latte from his cup, looking outside.
“Fuck, I forgot to ask you this,” you say. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Oh yeah! In fact, there’s a woman I've been seeing recently, Yizhuo. You probably know her, right? You guys are working together,” Kai answers.
“Oh,” you utter. “Oh.”
He chuckles, before continuing, “Yeah, I know it’s weird–”
“No, no, not at all, bro,” you deflect with a chuckle along with him. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Kai, still chuckling, inquires, “How about you? It’s gotta be more than ‘bearable’ for you to be all happy like this.”
You give him a smile.
796 notes · View notes
celestialspritz · 3 days
Text
Why Sims 2 has been so broken the last ten years
This is down to my own research, and I'm not saying it is the one and only reason why the game is so broken these days, but I have some points worth mentioning.
So, you're bored one day. You remember this game you had so much fun playing a few years ago, or maybe as a child. It's The Sims 2!
The game has a few issues than from when you last remembered playing, so you search on google for some fixes for the tiny resolution, and among the countless posts you may find, you may find this:
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Or this:
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(to the creators and players mentioned here this isn't me making a dig at you, i'm just pointing out some cc that could affect the game from working properly. your stuff is all beautiful :D)
Lesya's game is gorgeous!!! Oh, how can I get it to look like that?
So you, with a clean, vanilla (ugly) game you decide to download a few mods she listed, such as:
Skylines by GCKP (you can get optimised ones by me here)
Skies by Lowedeus (you can get optimised ones by me here)
Trees by Criquette (you can get optimised ones here)
No More Blurriness by Voeille (you can get optimised snow only here)
Cool! And then you notice some cheats than can give the game that open-world, interactive feel. Even better!
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And you shove them into your folder and you boot up the game. Everything's going great!
Until...
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You search hundreds of posts looking for the fix. Some recommend 3rd-party tools, but they seem to make the problem worse. You reinstall, finding you only wasted your time. Something has to be causing this, but you'd never guess it'd be the mods everybody swore by.
Well, in fact, it is. Partly.
I've struggled with pink flashing since 2019, when I reinstalled Sims 2 after I got a decent computer for once. I did everything above, searched for fixes, found Lesya's blog which was my primary inspiration. It was through Lesya's guide that I was able to make my game look pretty!
These mods, which are a staple in the modding community, are beautiful indeed... but what if I told you that the reason they're so beautiful, is because they're high-quality. With textures soaring up to 4k, when, hang on--
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In 2004, 4k resolution was... probably unheard of. With the leading monitor size being 1024x768, what would be the point of using such huge textures on an engine that was designed for monitors of at least this size? Would you be able to see the detail of 4k on a monitor of that size? Definitely not.
The max visiting sims, okay, a little hit or miss. If your sims are all wearing high poly alpha CC, then it's a problem. If not, good luck.
Then comes the cheats I mentioned. The lot skirt cheat expands the view distance a significant amount. With the mergenhoodflora cheat, that displays more trees. Combining the two, what do you get?
A massive view distance, blinded by trees.
With skies and skylines with large textures up to 4k, and trees with textures up to 2k, The Sims 2 will collapse. It's like forcing an old man with health conditions to do 20 situps, again and again.
It'll overexert him, by the very least. And you're overexerting the game by cramming custom content that is not optimised for the engine TS2 was built on.
So please, next time you encounter the pink soup, please check your CC folders, and research changes and cheats before you put them into your game. You will enjoy the game much more if you do this, and won't encounter this problem so often.
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Don't use Graphics Rules Maker
Instead, opt for a maxis original Graphics Rules uploaded here by Veronavillequiltingbee. It's essentially a rewrite of an old tutorial I made a long time ago.
Once you download the file from VVQB, open DXDIAG by pressing WinKey+R and typing 'dxdiag'.
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This value I've underlined is what you need to put after seti textureMemory. Open the sgr file and do CTRL-F and input seti textureMemory.
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Add the value from DXDIAG and then save it.
You can use GRM for adding your GPU to the game, but I do not recommend it for anything but that.
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Optimising the game... inside the game
*shoves GRM off the table*
We're going to go into TS2 in-game settings for this one.
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These settings are optimal if you play CC-heavy households. It will ease the load on your game to make space for the heavy CC you have in your current household. You can tweak these when you want to take photos outside, but for playing I recommend them all to be off - especially at community lots as there are lots of sims there.
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I never see anybody talking about Object Hiding.
Object Hiding hides objects from floors that aren't in view. If you're playing downstairs, objects upstairs won't be rendered, thus minimising the load on your game.
I have reflections and smooth edges off because I use ReShade.
Snow on Ground is optional. Sometimes snow can cause pink flashing, I believe it's due to texture replacements that are huge in size too, Voeille's is 2k. I've linked a resized one above.
This post will be updated with later findings. I hope you all found it informative :]
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tender-rosiey · 3 days
Note
hello, love! i hope you're doing great! i love reading your works and thank you so much for writing such beautiful pieces 🫶🏻
soooo... i was thinking of making a request! i'm not sure if you've written about this or not and please feel free to ignore it if you're uncomfortable with writing it or if you've already written it but here's the request:
satoru with newborn twin daughters 🥹
i noticed that there are almost no twin dad gojo fics and we already know that he's a girl dad. plus, i love your writing style. hence this thought. again, thank you so much for your hard work, rose! stay hydrated and have a great day! byeeee!
twin girls (and gojo ig) — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: i cant believe it took me like 7 months to finally post this; i am so sorry 🙏 BUT i am so so happy that you like my works and srsly thank you for your sweet words. they mean the world 🥹 hope that you like this as well! have a wonderful day!! 🫶🫶
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the only thing worse than having one girl you can’t say no to is having two.
add to that the fact that satoru is already a softie when it comes to his daughters, and it’s a recipe for disaster—if you’re not there to intervene.
"papa, I want a dress!" one of your twins looks up at satoru with wide, sparkling eyes, her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
her sister quickly chimes in, her voice a little shyer but just as determined. "I-I want a dress too, papa!"
satoru crouches down to their level, hands on his knees as he looks between his two little girls, his white hair falling messily into his eyes.
“two dresses, huh?” his voice takes on a faux-serious tone. “what kind of dresses are we talking about?”
“sparkly!”
“twirly!”
“pink!”
“blue!”
their voices rise with excitement, and satoru’s grin only grows wider as he listens, nodding as though their demands are being carefully cataloged in his mind.
you can’t help but smile from the doorway, watching the scene unfold. his enthusiasm when it comes to them is both endearing and ridiculous.
"satoru," you call out, interrupting his train of thought. your arms are crossed, and a teasing smile plays on your lips. "we agreed they only need one dress each, remember?"
he turns toward you with a playful pout, the twins following his gaze.
“they’re my princesses, wifey! how can I deny them a little extra sparkle?” he says, completely unbothered by the parental negotiations you both agreed on just yesterday.
you raise an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer and placing a hand on his arm. “you’ll be sleeping on the couch if they come home with more than one each.”
satoru's expression shifts immediately, an exaggerated look of surrender plastered on his face as he straightens up, holding up his hands. "alright, alright. one dress each. promise."
later that evening, when you return home, your twin girls are twirling around in front of you in two dresses each—one sparkly, one twirly, naturally.
your gaze falls on satoru, who stands casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, whistling as if he’d done nothing wrong.
“satoru,” you pout, “I thought we had an agreement.”
he gives you a cheeky grin and a shrug, completely unbothered. “they were on sale,” he says as if that justifies everything.
the girls, oblivious to your exasperation, giggle and show off their new outfits, spinning around in excitement.
"mama, look! don't we look pretty?"
"yeah, mama! we look pretty, right?"
you press your lips into a thin line, but the fondness in your eyes betrays you. you sigh and ruffle their hair, "yes, very pretty, both of you."
the girls squeal in happiness and run around the house in their excitement. your husband nudges your arm gently with a teasing smile. you quirk an eyebrow before pushing him away with a chuckle.
you can never deny that you love seeing them so happy, even if it means satoru has bent the rules—again.
of course, life with your husband and your twin girls is a whirlwind. even bedtime is an adventure (read: a battle).
one night, the girls are bouncing off the walls in their matching pajamas, their giggles filling the room as they run circles around satoru, who’s sitting at the edge of the bed, utterly failing to get them under control.
"alright, time to settle down," he says, his tone light but lacking any real authority. the girls shake their heads as their dad is simply not cut out to be the strict parent in their eyes.
however, when he opens his arms, one of the girls takes the chance to climb his lap. his hand ruffles her hair, and she hums happily .
"papa, can we have three stories tonight?" the twin on his lap asks, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
her sister, not wanting to miss out, rushes over and clings to his other arm. "no! I want four stories!"
satoru sighs dramatically, glancing over at you for backup. you are sitting like the boss you are on the loveseat in the room. you look up when you feel your husband's eyes on you.
“they only get one story,” you remind him, trying not to laugh at his predicament.
satoru looks between the two girls, their wide eyes fixed on him. “alright, alright,” he finally concedes, holding up two fingers. “two stories. that’s my final offer.”
he hears you groan, and his heart breaks at disappointing you, but he can’t just say no to them. the twins cheer as if they’ve won a war, grabbing their favorite books from the bedside table.
it takes you a few moments before you smile helplessly as you watch him negotiate with them like it’s a high-stakes sorcery mission. it's not long before your daughters fall asleep. satoru's voice has always been comfort incarnate for them.
"you’re too soft," you tease as you walk over to him, pinching his nose—he yelps as quietly as he can, so you plant a soft kiss on his temple.
he leans into your touch for a moment, closing his eyes. "can’t help it," he mutters, "they’ve got your charm.”
afternoons are no less chaotic, especially at the park, where the twins drag satoru toward the swings, their little hands gripping his fingers as they bounce excitedly.
"papa, push me higher!" one demands, already settling onto the swing.
"me too! higher!" her sister echoes, scrambling onto the swing beside her.
satoru stands behind them, cracking his knuckles.
“higher, huh? I think I can manage that.” he gives the first swing a firm push, sending one of the twins soaring up, her laughter filling the air.
you sit on the third swing, smiling at the scene.
satoru looks over at you, his grin softening as his eyes meet yours. the way their laughter fills the atmosphere fills your heart, and you can tell that satoru feels the same.
at least, until he decides to push you and make you take full 360s on the swing.
“wow, mama is swinging!”
“in a circle!”
“satoru, I will kill you!!”
"waiting for that, wifey!"
dinner, as always, is an ongoing fight. tonight, the twins are in full protest mode against their vegetables.
"I don’t like broccoli," one twin pouts, pushing her plate away.
"me neither," her sister adds, crossing her arms as if this decision has been made final.
satoru, ever their ally in mischief, leans back in his chair, his expression far too relaxed. "well, I guess no one’s eating broccoli tonight," he says, clearly enjoying this little act of rebellion.
while you're proud of your girls backing each other up, you rather it not be right now. you shoot satoru a warning glance, shaking your head with a sigh. "they need to eat their veggies, satoru."
he shrugs, smirking lazily as he glances at the twins. “they’re gojo kids. I think they’ll survive without a little broccoli.”
the twins giggle, clearly siding with him. but you know how to play this game too; otherwise, you would have never been able to handle the man child beside you. “okay, fine,” you say with a sly smile. “no dessert if they don’t eat their veggies.”
the girls’ eyes go wide in horror, and they quickly turn to their father, their last hope. “papa, no! we want dessert!”
caught between you and the twins, satoru sighs dramatically, like he’s being asked to sacrifice everything.
“alright, alright, princesses,” he concedes, hands raised in defeat. “but you’ve gotta eat the broccoli if you want dessert. we gotta listen to mama.”
the twins reluctantly pick at their plates, eyeing the broccoli with disdain, but determined to make it to dessert.
you exchange a triumphant smile with satoru, who just rolls his eyes playfully.
and in the quieter moments, when the twins are asleep, and it’s just the two of you, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmurs softly. “keeping us all in line.”
you smile, leaning into his touch, “someone’s gotta make sure we don’t end up with a house full of sparkly dresses.”
satoru laughs quietly, pulling you closer. “what can I say? I’m weak when it comes to you three.”
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xo100 · 22 hours
Text
Coming home - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’
*:・゚ Word count: 2214
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୨ৎ
It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.
“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.
She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.
-
It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.
At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.
“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.
Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.
“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”
It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.
“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”
Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.
He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.
“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”
Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.
A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.
After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.
Then, finally, she called him.
Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.
“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.
“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”
There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”
“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.
“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”
Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”
There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”
“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”
“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”
“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.
He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”
-
The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.
Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.
“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.
He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.
She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.
“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”
She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”
Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”
She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.
He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.
“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”
She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.
Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”
-
The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.
“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”
He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”
By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.
“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.
She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.
Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.
“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”
Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”
They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”
She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.
Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.
With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.
“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”
She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.
“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”
She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.
Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.
He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”
And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.
She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!
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pseudowho · 1 day
Text
Deeper, Harder, Faster: Reader/Ino/Nanami
After a chat with the lovely @nanaslutt, I can with absolute delight say that they have given me their blessing to write this exquisite smut blurb in full.
Everyone say thank you @nanaslutt 🙇‍♀️ for allowing Haitch to go to town.
Based on this! post here. Please do go and like/reblog the original idea.
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Warnings: 18+, mentor/mentee relationship, threesome, PiV, anal, oral f!receiving
Here we go...
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Nanami Kento bristled with annoyance, as another doghouse sigh broke his fragile peace. Ino slumped on his arms, his cheek pressed against the table, looking like such a boy that Nanami couldn't help but enquire.
"What is it, Ino?"
"It's nothing, Nanami."
Nanami folded his book closed, huffing a little. "It's clearly not 'nothing'. I'm not one to pry, but--"
"It's my girlfriend, Nanami, I'm letting her down. She says 'go faster', or 'go deeper', or 'go harder' and she doesn't know what she's asking for, I don't want to hurt her--"
"Stop. Ino."
An awkward silence hung between Ino and Nanami for the former's fractious outburst, and the faintest blush smattered across Nanami's high cheekbones. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses.
"Well, that took...absolutely no insistence at all on my part, did it?" At Ino's groan, muffled as he pulled his balaclava down over his reddening face, Nanami cleared his throat again and continued. "While that was...altogether none of my business, I might hesitantly suggest that the young lady knows her own mind, Ino. If she is...dissatisfied with intimacy, have you considered doing as she asks?"
"I just think she's asking too much, y'know? I'll hurt her--"
"Have you a safe word?"
Ino hesitated, stuttering. "A-a...safe word?"
"Yes, a safeword. You've tried some different positions, I assume? Perhaps you've let her lead the way if she chooses? Responded to her cues?"
Nanami looked over his glasses with each recommendation, feeling grimmer and grimmer at Ino's continued vacant expression. Nanami hummed into his coffee, a cover-all sound of dismay, before a switch flicked on Ino's face.
"Could you show me?"
Nanami choked on his coffee, recovering with a cough, shocked by how eagerly his cock twitched against his thigh. Thoughts of watching you spread beneath Ino, pleasured by his own instruction, bloomed a sordid power fantasy he'd never known he had. He tried to look impassive, and not as eager as he felt.
"Show you?"
"Yeah, uh...I-I bet she wouldn't mind."
Nanami could blame the way that the blood rushed from his brain to his dick, as the reason for his easy agreement, but he'd be lying.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Nanami was as taut as a bowstring, his suit-jacket discarded, in yours and Ino's bedroom. He was humid with the scent of your sex, shot through by your whimpers and gasps, as Ino fucked lazily against the bed with your clit in his mouth.
Nanami's fists clenched as your head rolled on the bed to look at him; the only outward sign that he was at all affected by your plush, parted lips, the way your breasts peaked, lonely and without attention, and the way your orgasm crept closer. And yet, it all meant naught when your pleasure was so two-dimensional.
"Deeper-- Takuma-- please--"
Though Ino was tonguing your wet little pussy to climax through mouth alone, you arched, frustrated, wanting more than just the first slim inch of Ino's fingers. Ino curled his fingertips barely past your entrance, featherlight, hardly past the first knuckle. Nanami suppressed a scowl.
Ino muffled something into your pussy as you came with a weak cry; an orgasm, yes, but not the one you had wanted. Not the one that would have you seeing God, and forgetting the days of the week. Your cunt and belly had, after all, been left utterly unfucked.
"See, baby? Nice and gentle..." Ino whispered against your thigh, pressing tender kisses to your folds, to your blushing, half-satisfied smile. "So good...so pretty--"
Nanami felt your frustration; despite having never been entered, he knew the unique deep, yanking climax of a hook behind one's navel, and suspected that you were fucking yourself better with toys than Ino was with his body.
Nanami squirmed, spreading his thighs to allow room for the heavy tenting of his lap, and tried to be unaffected by the way your head turned to him again, a thread of pleading in your eyes. Nanami was never one to deny a woman begging, and it tortured him even to pay witness to it, as a mentor.
All the worse, even Ino's cock was gentle, sliding into you as if you were made of glass. Nanami could have cried for the way Ino shook with the effort of holding back, despite your arching, despite the way you whispered to Ino, for him to move 'deeper' and 'harder' and 'faster'.
Watching the slow, supple roll of Ino's tight body into yours, and watching the way you had given up asking for more, Nanami's self-restraint snapped, his cool voice belying stormy waters.
"Listen to your girl, Ino. Do as she says."
Ino's hips stuttered, a flush on his cheeks as he threatened to come before he'd even taken you to the brink and back again.
"S-she's...she's okay, aren't you, babe?"
You blushed beneath Ino, lying as if you weren't scrutinised by sharp brown eyes; lying, as if your own eyes hadn't been begging for Nanami's intervention only moments before.
"Yeah, I...I'm fine, I--"
"Fine?" Nanami spat, on his feet now, and prowling around the end of the bed, examining Ino's slowly fucking hips from all angles.
"You're supposed to be pleasured until you can't remember your own name, and you're just fine?"
You blushed, called out, turning your head away as Ino's movements slowed to a halt, and he gazed down at you, breathless and uncertain.
"...babe?"
Nanami continued, growling, palming his aching cock against his zipper. His breath, his cologne, ghosted against Ino's flushed cheek.
"You're supposed to be making love to her, not treating her like a little glass doll. You're satisfied with her calling your cock 'fine'?"
Ino doubled down, foolishly. "I just don't wanna hurt her, I'm big and I--"
Nanami growled, his hand tangling into the back of Ino's hair to yank Ino's head backwards. Nanami's voice rang deep and dark and desperate; "She said deeper. She said harder. She said faster. Do you need to be forced?"
Ino's lip puckered up, almost tearful, defiant, as if he hadn't been the one who had asked his mentor for help. Nanami nodded, coming to a slow realisation, before firmly, affectionately, slapping Ino's cheek once, twice, three times.
"Ah...I see. Well, if that's the only way you'll learn..."
Ino watched with a squirm in his belly, as his mentor, thick-bodied and tall, paced over to the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube.
By the time Nanami had walked back round to observe the way that Ino's cock had completely stilled within you, he had unzipped himself and hooked his own aching cock and balls out.
Still in his tie, his shoes, his harness, fully dressed, Nanami hissed as he slid one lube-wettened fist down his twitching length, gritting his teeth, his eyes blackened over by something altogether more military. He cast his eyes over the pair of you once more, barely more than a pair of kids in your early twenties, fucking like amateurs.
It wasn't your fault, Nanami reasoned, masturbating himself as if his cock could possibly get any harder. And so, he threw his attention back to his mentee.
"What are you waiting for, Ino? Deeper. Harder. Faster."
Ino shuddered, every fine sinew across his sculpted shoulders twitching, as his hips picked up a fractured, barely increased pace. You arched again, sighing into the almost there thrusts into your core, whimpering with frustration when Ino chased his own hips backwards at your insistent arching.
In immediate response, Nanami's free hand slapped Ino hard across the ass, eliciting a yelp from Ino. A muffled giggle burst forth from you, before you clapped a hand over your mouth. It threatened to bubble over, as you swore you saw the hint of a laugh at the corner of Nanami's mouth. Instead he rumbled again, to Ino's mortified blushes.
"Deeper. Harder. Faster."
"I am, Nanami--"
"I don't see you having to hold her in place. I don't hear the headboard rattling. I don't hear a single fucking noise from her."
By the time another minute of Ino's shallow, pitiful thrusts had passed, Nanami had made up his mind. Ino felt another slap to his ass, yelping as Nanami chased him up the bed. You scooched up beneath him, and your heart stuttered to feel your boyfriend pressed down to your chest, with Nanami arching above him, mounting him.
"Am I going to have to show you, Ino?"
That voice; so much calmer than Nanami was, in truth, with precum dripping onto Ino's ass. Ino felt every hair on his body stand on end, swallowing thickly. He felt Nanami's cock, longer and thicker than his own, heavy against the small of his back.
"I...I..."
"Well?"
"I...o-okay. Y-yeah. Show me."
A satisfied grunt from behind Ino...and the wet pumping of a bottle of lube. Ino felt Nanami whisper at his ear, and a thick, insistent nudging at his entrance.
"Even with less prep than you gave your girl, you'll take me hard, and deep, and fast. If that's the only way to show you."
Ino felt Nanami's bulbous, slippery cock head fuck into his entrance with little warning, and Ino collapsed onto his forearms above you, his hips finally flush with yours as he was forced deeper into your pussy. Nanami swore, cursing and pushing himself even deeper in one swift movement, to bury his cock fully inside Ino.
Ino whimpered between you and Nanami, and you bit your lip, burying your fingers into Ino's hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
"...attaboy...show you what she needs, hmm? Fuck...so tight..."
Nanami appeared to be collecting himself above you both, panting and straining with the effort of giving Ino a moment to adjust. You threaded your other hand around Nanami's harness, your fingers tight against his chest, and he opened his eyes, heated. The hint of a smile was there again, and he looked into your eyes as he pulled almost completely out of Ino...before fucking into him again, immediately setting a ruthless pace.
You and Ino both crumpled as one, crushed beneath Nanami's overbearing force. The harsh drag and thrust of Nanami's cock in and out of Ino, moved Ino's hips for him. Ino's cock only hardened with Nanami's relentless pounding into his prostate, and you finally felt every single inch of Ino, forced into you to the hilt, finally giving you the belly-deep fullness you had craved for so long. Your guttural moan, and the way you dragged both Ino and Nanami closer by harness and hair, told Nanami he was finally hitting the mark.
"There you go...Ino...see?" Nanami panted, slamming himself into Ino's prone, twitching body. "Look at...at her now. Harder...deeper...faster. How does it feel...darling?"
"G-god-- o-oh my god-- so good so so good--augh--!"
The noises coming out of Ino were barely human, burned at both ends until his entire core was aflame. It took all of his strength simply to not crush you, and he found himself woefully out of control. He had only the vaguest, nebulous thought that his hips were being slammed into you with more force that he could ever generate himself...and you were crying his name in absolute bliss. Not begging him to stop. Not telling him it hurt. But, begging him for more, in desperate little babbles and whimpers.
Though Nanami's thrusts were brutal, they showed no sign of slowing. When he felt Ino's hole clenching around his cock, seeing the first signs of Ino's orgasm approaching, Nanami looped one thick forearm around Ino's neck, forcing Ino to arch up to him, and growling into Ino's ear.
"Not yet-- I don't think the lady's quite finished, is she? Don't be such a boy."
Ino sobbed into your neck, begging to be allowed completion, his voice wet against your skin as Nanami denied him his orgasm for the sake of your own. Ino's sloppy mumbling was barely coherent, combining with Nanami's fractious grunts and curses to give you the orgasm soundtrack of your dreams.
"--s'too much-- so f-full, sorry--s-sorry, I didn't...feels so good...m'gonna come-- babe--"
Reaching around Ino to you, and pulling back for just a moment, Nanami scooped your ass and thighs up into a harsh mating press, with Ino crushed between you both. With Nanami's enormous hands pushing your knees to your chest, and Ino's sobbing, forced fucking into you, you were reduced to divine whimpering, your pussy beginning to clench around Ino's twitching length.
The heavy pressure of Ino's weight forced against your clit and his belly-deep thrusts, sent you tumbling over the edge fast. Finally, your orgasm had teeth, and the cries that left you were hoarse with bliss.
Unable to look at Ino, with his tearstained face still buried in your neck, you instead cried your pleasure to Nanami, your eyes glossy, your face twisted as if in pain. Seeing the way his pupils dilated, and the way his hips stuttered, made you certain you were milking Nanami's cock, instead of your boyfriend's.
You heard Nanami's satisfied whispers guiding you through, feeling him admiring the way tears glittered on your lashes.
"--good girl...good girl, you knew...knew you could take it...clever girl..."
Ino followed you swiftly into oblivion, your plush fluttering walls dragging his orgasm as Nanami's cock against his prostate pushed it. Ino convulsed, a choking symphony of moans spilling over, unbidden. His legs kicked out against the bed, his hands clasping the sheets, while white-knuckled pleasure surged through him from head to toe.
You knew his seed would take time to trickle out of you tonight, so deeply seated was his ejaculation against your gulping cervix, that you wondered if any would make its way out of your cunt at all. Nanami was too far gone, husky, and still, somehow, chastising Ino through his pleasure.
"--listen...to your girl, and don't...don't come crying to me...if you can't satisfy her...don't deserve her if you don't listen to her...shit..."
Having done his duty, with commas of hair escaping over his forehead, Nanami buried himself to the hilt inside Ino and came with a hushed, broken roar. All the while that his teeth clenched, and his seed striped the inside of your boyfriend, you could have sworn that you felt the pulsing heat within you, instead.
Nanami groaned and murmured, his cock fucking slower, deeper, softer, his orgasm long and draining. You knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same again, knowing the voice of his pleasure.
Finally, Nanami stilled above Ino, groaning and giving Ino's hair one firm ruffle, before pulling out with a hiss. Nanami stood back on shaking legs, surveying the wreckage before him, sniffing and swiping one hand back through his hair.
Cleaning himself, Nanami nodded to you. Ino was too fucked-out and spent to even begin to communicate, and covered you like a weighted blanket, filled with Nanami's cum, while his own filled you.
"Any problems," Nanami toned, calm and collected once more, "come to me."
"Y-yeah." You panted, crushed beneath Ino's whimpering weight. "I'll... I'll take it...from here."
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bi-writes · 2 days
Note
MOB who has to stay with Johnny at his house while Simon is away on a solo mission? Like as a preventive measure, Simon has them both together in case soemthing happens to him while he’s away?
mail-order bride
"i...simon, i just don't--"
"just do it," simon murmurs. you quiet immediately, a little caught off-guard. simon has never interrupted you; even when you're a babbling mess, simon lets you finish your garbled sentences. he waits until your voice quiets, until your mouth closes, before he ever speaks to you, but this time, his tone is firm, and there is no room for interpretation. when you meet his eyes, simon is more than serious. "i don't ask ya for anythin', swee'eart. but this..." he reaches out for you, and you step closer instinctively, and when he cups your face in both hands, you can't help but melt. he leans his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes when you see the very subtle tremble of his lips. "do this fer me. only thing i'll ever ask of ya. i swear it."
you take a deep breath to center yourself. one of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you just that much closer, and you wait until your lips brush against his before you answer him.
"i...i have to go?"
"few days. tha's it."
"well, i...well, okay."
it's quiet up north. the weather dampens the entire coastline, what you can see of it, and the air tastes like salt. it was in your mouth as soon as you stepped off the train, and it only got stronger the closer you got to the cottage.
as soon as you step out of the car, you're greeted by the most quaint little house on a hill. there's vines climbing up the sides of it, wrapping around wooden structures and carving out a perfectly quaint home tucked amongst scottish greenery. it's breathtaking here; it's so quiet, and the way that you're allowed to breathe up here is unlike anywhere else you've ever been.
the meows coming from your backpack are the only thing that bring you back to earth.
"just inside, lass," a low voice calls behind you. "supper's 'bout ready now."
when johnny closes the door behind you, you're mesmerized by the coziness inside. his house is filled with warmth. there's plaid curtains pulled back from a stained-glass window, allowing in soft colors of light. the couches in his living room have throw pillows and blankets of mismatched linen and velvet, and his walls are filled with pictures and hanging green plants. there's candles burning, and the television is still playing some reruns of old rugby games.
the wood detail is exquisite. the staircase has little carvings of scottish motifs and flowers, winding up another wall of photos. the pictures are old and new, all of laughing people with johnny's big smile or his bright blue eyes or wearing the same plaid pattern as the fabric that you saw hanging in the closet.
a green kettle. a cross above the mantle with a psalm printed on it. a sketch on the coffee table (a skull, with a stub of a charcoal pencil still laying over it). rosaries hanging over a wedding photo with johnny in the background, holding up bunny ears. a wooden bowl of oranges (and oranges only).
"said ye'd be 'ere fer some time, tha' ye like ta bake. got some things fer ye at the shops."
you set your backpack down, opening the clear window of it, and two little cats hop out immediately. johnny raises a brow as he makes eye contact immediately with the orange tabby, a wicked grin coming over his face.
"i remember ye, ye little shite."
"what?" you laugh, and johnny shakes his head.
"nothin'."
it's late when he notices you looking out the window. the cats are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, in deep sleep after johnny gave them each a salmon dinner (and you pretended not to notice seeing the extensive recipe sheet that only your husband could have made on his phone). your eyes are on the sky; you can see so much of it here, twinkly stars and all.
"'m sorry ye have ta be here," johnny says lowly, soft enough that you aren't startled. you don't look away from the window, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch as you wonder if simon is looking at the same star you can't seem to lose. it's brighter than the rest, and it flickers to a rhythm that feels oddly comforting.
"it's not your fault, johnny," you assure him softly, and you turn away from the window finally to find him seated on the carpet, scratching the orange cat behind the ears. "he wouldn't...he wouldn't take no for an answer. not...not this time."
you frown a little, smoothing your right hand over your left, and your heart drops a little in your chest when the sparkle of your wedding ring matches the sparkle of your star.
"i've been staying home alone all this time," you continue, shaking your head. "and all of the sudden...a-all of the sudden he doesn't trust me?"
"oh, love..." johnny sighs, clicking his tongue. "tha' is...'s nae wot it is, i swear it."
"i...it's not...it's not me, right?" you ask in a whisper, meeting his eyes finally. "simon and i...w-we're doing so well..."
the expression that passes over his face is a sad one. it unnerves you to see it; johnny is someone that just isn't meant to be sad. his house is filled with so much love and so much life, and you swear you don't even recognize him anymore because he's void of a smile altogether.
"ye seen the pictures?"
you know immediately what johnny is talking about. you saw them the very first night you stayed in your shared home. across your house, there are a few picture frames covered with fabric or face-down on whichever surface they rest on. when you glimpsed at them, you peeked behind the curtain of a life that simon has that you don't know. even now, you have never felt strong enough to ask him about them.
it isn't because you think simon won't tell you; you're afraid to ask. you're afraid of who they are, what they are to him, and why he's never told you their names or introduced them to you. they exist in a separate place, and you don't know why, and when you saw him holding that baby--
you shake your head finally.
"i...i can't."
johnny hums low, looking down. he smooths his hands down his jeans.
"neither can he."
you close your eyes, but not fast enough. there's a few tears that fall down the curve of your cheek.
"when...when did--?"
"will be another year in a few days."
your lip shakes, and you take in a stuttered breath. you did not believe it possible to love simon any more than you already do, but it aches, that place in your chest that is reserved just for him. it hurts, in the worst and most incredible way, and you never want him to know another day without hearing you tell him how much you love him.
when simon comes to get you, just a week later, you're sitting under a sycamore tree at sunset. it's never been more quiet inside of your head, and when he takes a seat beside you, you say nothing for a few minutes.
simon thinks maybe you're angry for a moment, but then your hand reaches over to take his, and then you're scooting closer, until you drape yourself over his arm and bury your face into the side of his neck.
"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and simon turns his head slightly.
"wot's tha', love?"
"i'm not going anywhere, simon," you say again, and when he looks at you finally, you squeeze his hand. "wherever...wherever you want me to go...i'll go. wherever you want me to stay, i-i'll stay there."
when he kisses you, it's soft, and it's slow, and he feels faraway and so close all at once. you put your hands around his neck, along the back of his head, anything to get him closer, to feel more of him, but it isn't enough.
it won't be enough. not until simon devours you whole. not until you bite into him and never let go. not until beginning of you and the end of him are indistinguishable.
not until i make the time before us obsolete and the time after us endless.
when you are home, simon watches from the hallway as you pick up a picture frame on the dresser. it's been facedown there since he moved in, and touching it has always felt like it burns him. he's frozen as you flip it face-up, standing it back up. when he sees himself, many years younger, smiling, happy, holding a chubby baby with bright eyes and blonde hair, he's surprised his insides don't burst immediately.
he never thought he would be able to look at them again. he never thought he'd be able to see their faces without seeing the warped versions of them, the mirrors of them that he never believed could be real. he always thought if he looked at them again, he'd go blind--that he'd carve out his own eyes just to forget what was left of them.
but nothing remains. they're memories, beautiful ones, and he'd forgotten that his nephew even had dimples.
the photos get lost amongst the rest. they blend in, like they were meant to be, tucked between the warm ones of your smile and the orange cat standing on simon's shoulders.
there is nothing more intoxicating than the woman that simon has chosen to love. you make the worst of his mind feel afraid; the thoughts that threaten to upend him, they are retreating, withering away from the things that he thinks about now that you remain. the tendrils of you are everywhere; you have latched onto him like nothing ever has, and he will never be rid of this feeling. of you.
simon will not fight reality any longer. he won't tell himself fate is nothing but proof that god is unforgiving. god isn't real, you are, and whatever came before you was the road he had to follow to get to you.
and simon didn't just follow; he fucking crawled. he dug his hands into the stone, bleeding fingernails and all, and he kept going even when his legs didn't work and his mind told him there was nothing there ahead of him. it was not resilience. it was not a man made of metal or steel or something heroic or a miracle.
simon is just a man, and he is weak, but as he comes up behind you and breathes you in, he realizes now that he has known you his entire life. you are tethered by something that he can't see. you are connected by something invisible.
when you tuck yourself into bed that night, the pictures are still upright, the ones on the wall still uncovered. you fall asleep before him, like always, and simon cradles your head to his chest as his eyes find the window.
a star sparkles. it's the last thing he sees before he falls asleep beside you.
801 notes · View notes
reidmarieprentiss · 2 days
Note
Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱
Birthday Surprise
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday
Word count: 7.9k
a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !
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Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV
The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 
You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 
Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.
Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.
He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.
The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 
After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.
From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 
Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.
Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 
You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.
"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"
He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 
"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.
Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.
"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."
Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.
He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 
“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 
Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 
His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.
He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”
You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.
“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.
Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”
Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.
Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.
He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”
And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.
As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.
“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.
You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."
Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."
His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.
“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”
He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”
His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.
“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”
Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”
The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.
“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.
“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”
You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”
He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”
“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.
Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.
You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?
As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.
After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.
You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.
Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 
“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”
His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.
He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”
His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.
His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.
Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.
“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.
You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.
Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.
“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 
You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.
Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 
When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.
Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.
Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.
Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.
Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.
You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.
He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."
His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.
That’s when you made your decision.
"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.
Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"
You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.
For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.
He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 
As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.
"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.
Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.
His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.
Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.
The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.
Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.
“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.
Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”
His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 
And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.
It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.
A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.
You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.
"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.
Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.
Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.
The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.
"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.
But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.
"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.
Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.
His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.
Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.
The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.
Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.
Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.
Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.
"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.
“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.
You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.
Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”
A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.
Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”
With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.
This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.
"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.
Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.
You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"
You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.
Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."
You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”
"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."
His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.
You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.
Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."
You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.
"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."
Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.
“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."
With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.
Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.
You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”
He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."
Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.
Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."
"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"
With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.
He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.
"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.
Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 
"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 
You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"
Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 
“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.
His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."
You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.
After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."
Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.
Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.
Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.
"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.
"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."
"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.
"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.
“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.
“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”
But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.
Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.
Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.
“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.
You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.
Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.
You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.
“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.
“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.
You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.
Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.
You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 
After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.
You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.
Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"
You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.
Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.
You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.
Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."
Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.
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seventeenpins · 3 days
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new rules
pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅
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You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.
DO NOT PICK UP
You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.
And then it lights up again.
Just ignore it. Just ignore it.
As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.
It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 
But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–
And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.
“Hi, baby-”
Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.
“Hi Logan.”
“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 
“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”
“But you answered.” 
Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.
“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”
It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.
"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.
“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”
You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.
“What do you want, Logan?”
He takes a deep breath.
“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”
“No.”
“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”
You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.
It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.
“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.
“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”
He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”
You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.
Is this really living?
“Fine. You can come over.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”
With a snort, he ends the call.
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He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 
With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.
He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.
When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 
Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.
It sends a shiver down your spine.
You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 
You need to gain some control back.
“Condom,” you tell him. 
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”
He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.
Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 
In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.
“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.
“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”
“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”
“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”
“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”
You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.
“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”
“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.
You groan, and he laughs.
You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 
The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.
But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 
You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-
He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.
After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.
For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.
But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”
Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.
“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”
He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 
He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.
“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”
You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.
“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-
“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 
“Fuck you, Logan.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes-”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”
You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.
It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.
He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 
As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.
He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 
You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.
At least you got those tide pens. 
You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.
You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.
—-
You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.
You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.
Back to this-
"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.
"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 
You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”
"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 
He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.
This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.
You leave the room.
A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.
"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”
He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.
"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.
You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”
He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.
You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.
A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.
"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”
Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.
You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.
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You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.
And then one night you get a text. 
He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.
DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video
With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.
You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.
Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–
It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.
It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.
There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.
This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.
You hit play. 
At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.
“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”
AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.
Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 
A moment later, the text comes through.
“Ready for you, princess.”
God, if only it would take more than that.
As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 
You’re at his house an hour later. 
You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 
You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.
And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.
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ellecdc · 3 days
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hello!! its me again😜, I've had this hyperfixation on poly!maraudersx reader x lily trope . I was wondering you can make an ff of like the reader is in another house and is a quidditch player, and theres a match between gryffindor and her perspective house and she feels really anxious because if her house won she would let them down and if gryffindor won she would feel guilty ro celebrate with them. 🩷🩷
this was a very cute idea!! thank you for the prompt <3
poly!marauders + Lily x fem!reader who plays for Hufflepuff [1.2k words]
CW: reader is in Hufflepuff, no house rivalry between our lovers
This game had been causing you more anxiety than you cared to admit.
Somehow, this far into your relationship with the Gryffindor’s, you haven’t had to play against the Gryffindor house since the season started, which seemed very odd considering they were one of only three teams that you could play.
But alas, you had managed to avoid the awkwardness of not only cheering against your partners’ team, but actually playing against two of them for a blissful stretch of time. 
Your luck had run out, however, and you could avoid it no longer as the Hufflepuff keeper. 
You found yourself in a tough position; if Hufflepuff lost, you’d feel horribly traitorous to be celebrating the Gryffindor team, but you couldn’t not celebrate when two of your boyfriend’s played for the team. However, if Hufflepuff won, you’d feel terribly guilty celebrating, feeling as though you were rubbing your victory in their faces. 
Either way, you were bound to lose.
So when Hufflepuff won, your feet had barely touched the ground before you were leaping from your broom and racing off the pitch, bypassing the showers at the quidditch pitch and fleeing to your dormitory, quickly showering and changing and making it to the kitchens before the no doubt raucous after-party could begin in the Hufflepuff common room.
This was better, you decided. This way you wouldn’t be rubbing your win in your partners’ faces; Remus and Lily wouldn’t have to worry about hurting Sirius and James’ feelings, and Sirius and James wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy for your sake. 
“Should Miss not be in her dormitory to celebrate?” Feenky asked as you watched her prepare a batch of pumpkin juice. 
“It’s just a party of one tonight, Feenky.” You reassured her. If she seemed unconvinced, she didn’t mention it.
“Well, Feenky thinks that Feenky has something for an athlete such as yourself around here somewhere.” She mumbled mostly to herself as she abandoned her task to search for something in some sort of storage closet. 
“There you are, angel!” You heard James shout, startling you so badly that you flinched almost violently and sent a mug of pumpkin juice toppling off of the kitchen island that you were leaning against.
With a lazy flick of her wand (and a haughty smirk), Lily quickly righted your cup and set it gently back down on the island before it could make contact with the ground. 
You grimaced as you turned to face your four partners, ready to be scolded for running off the pitch without saying hello to anyone, for winning the game, or for hiding, you weren’t sure. But you found your mouth falling open in shock as you turned to see your four Gryffindor’s completely decked out in Hufflepuff colours. 
“Wha-” You started, but quickly had the air knocked out of you when Sirius pulled you into him and spun you around.
“You were fucking fantastic!” He exclaimed as he put you back down onto your feet, hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath before he was pulling you in for a searing kiss.
It was only when you finally pulled away from Sirius (only to be pulled backwards into James’ front) did you notice that his hair was still wet from his own post-game shower.
“What are you guys doing down here?” You managed finally.
“We rushed after the game to come down for your after-party!” James responded for you, pressing a kiss to your jaw before relinquishing his hold on you when Lily came in for her own. 
“You really did look phenomenal out there, darling.” She murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I wasn’t surprised, though. If anyone can give these two a well earned run for their money, it’s you.” 
“Thank Merlin.” Remus muttered with a fond eye roll, ignoring one indignant ‘oi!’ from James and one ‘we duel at dawn, Moony’ from Sirius as he leaned over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so proud of you.” He continued earnestly.
“You guys aren’t upset?” You asked, hating how small you sounded. Hating even more the way the four of them nearly recoiled in surprise before sharing confused glances with one another.
“Upset?” Sirius repeated bemusedly. “Why on earth would we be upset?” 
You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant as your face heated up nearly painfully in embarrassment. “Well…I-”
“Angel,” James cooed as he placed a hand on each of your upper arms and forced you to look at him, “did you think we were going to be upset that you beat us?”
“Well-” You attempted to explain, but Lily interjected.
“Can you blame the poor girl? You two are not gracious losers in the slightest.” She taunted, squealing when Sirius jabbed his fingers into her sides and tickled her in punishment for ‘the absolute slander you ridiculous, beautiful witch’.
“Nah.” James offered casually. “I’m happy to lose to our girl any day. Everyone else better watch their backs, though.”
“You guys are insane.” You sighed not unhappily, leaning back into James’ embrace as he nestled his face into the juncture of your neck.
“Is that why you’re hiding in here, dove? You weren’t going to celebrate at all?” Remus asked you softly, and Lily and Sirius both paused in their banter in order to tune back into the conversation. 
“It felt sort of…rude…” You admitted shyly, and Remus’ fond ‘awe’ and Lily’s saccharine ‘our sweet girl’ did nothing to tame the fire now roaring beneath your cheeks as James tightened his embrace around your middle and spun you around.
“Well now we’re just going to celebrate you that much harder! Our sweet little puffle.” He nearly sang as he placed you back onto your feet, Sirius arching his brow and gesturing to himself. 
“You haven't commented on how good we look, dollface.”
You weren’t even sure where they all got Hufflepuff jumpers, cardigans, and scarves from, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask when they looked so sodding cute.
“I think I look smashing in yellow.” Sirius continued simply, nodding at his own decree as he looked to the rest of you for agreement. 
“Honestly? I think it might be Rem’s new colour.” Lily stated earnestly, and the four of you got to watch Remus blush furiously as you all fussed over how well he wore the colour yellow. 
“Alright, alright. Enough chit chat.” Remus demanded; both an attempt to redirect the conversation from himself and an attempt to leave the kitchens. “We have a party to attend and a Hufflepuff to celebrate.” 
You accepted his extended hand and he pulled it up to his lips for a kiss before the five of you made your way out of the kitchens and followed the sounds of the thrumming bass pulsing from your common room.
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jinwoosungs · 2 days
Text
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09/23/24; 01:32pm
{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }
[ the things they say to try and keep you ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
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you were getting tired of this constant back and forth relationship you had with sylus, where getting a true reading on sylus and how he was feeling was forcing you to walk on damn near eggshells around him.
despite how you had a cordial relationship with him, it was completely different when night came. despite never once moving in and sharing a living space with him, that didn't stop sylus from visiting you.
his arrival would always be at the most inopportune time as well, usually when you came straight out of a shower. before you could even fully wrap the plush towel around your naked body, sylus would suddenly appear beside you, his hot mouth pressing heated kisses behind your ear.
"s-sylus?" you bite back a moan, feeling the way his teeth lightly nips at the sensitive skin of your neck. he ends up licking away the stray droplets of water that remains against your skin, letting out a soft groan of your name all while pushing his large hand up against your damp towel.
"ssh, work has gotten... pretty taxing lately, and i need you." dear gods, when you hear his husky voice whispering within your ear, oozing seduction while tasting as decadent and sinful as chocolate, you felt your knees tremble beneath him.
his erection was felt pressed up against your backside, making a familiar ache appear between your legs. needing to kiss him, you turn your head to press your lips against his in a searing kiss. you nearly fell against your linoleum floors the moment sylus pressed the palm of his hand against your naked cunt, shamelessly collecting the moisture against his calloused skin with a grunt.
with his lips never once leaving your neck, he continues pressing heated kisses against your skin all while sliding a single finger within your slick heat. the sensation of it all was enough to make you melt for him, your moans echoing throughout the bathroom. the squelching sounds that comes out as evidence to your neediness fills at the air, making the onslaught of pleasure you felt become all the more sweeter in response.
you were so close, and just as your pussy gripped at sylus's fingers in a vice grip, the insufferable man ends up removing his thick digits from it. the sudden loss of him was what makes you let out a string of curses, feeling sylus turn you around before setting you on top of your counter.
a smirk paints his ridiculously devastating face, and you were left breathing heavily when sylus slides the plush towel off of your body. goosebumps end up appearing all across your skin as sylus takes off the belt that hold the waistband of his pants in place. he pulls it down just enough to release his hardened cock from the confines of his boxers, its tip an angry shade of red as beads of precum was seen coming from it.
with a few strokes, sylus presses his cock against your entrance, earning a moan from you. he teases you for a few seconds, sliding the tip of his dick around your pussy lips before licking at his lips.
what he does next makes you do a double take, watching as he removes his phone from the pocket of his suit before setting a timer that counts down from the 3 minute mark. setting off the timer to the side, sylus grips at the fat of your thighs before telling you with a smirk, “if i can make you cum in less than three minutes, you’re mine.”
no other warning was given to you when the onychinus leader was felt completely sheathing his cock deep inside of you. your voice echoes throughout the bathroom, with your hands clawing at sylus's back the moment he continues to pound harshly inside of you.
you had been with a few other men here and there before in your life, but never one who was quite like sylus. even as he continues his relentless pounding against your cunt, you swore that you could feel him pressed up against your throat. the hedonistic sensations of it all was enough to make your head spin, feeling the way his veins seemed to pulsate eagerly as his shaft was buried so sweetly deep inside of you.
and despite your best efforts to hold off on climaxing against him, you lost all of your senses as you felt that familiar snap within your abdomen, making you spill your juices against sylus's still hardened cock.
with a grunt of your name, sylus looks down at the way your walls seemed to clench around the tip of his cock, seeing a clear fluid reach down the base of it before looking at his phone. a smug expression paints his features, and he reaches over to show you his phone. "you came within 2 minutes... heh, looks like you're mine after all."
your mind was in a haze, trying to comprehend what had just happened, "what?"
"tch, no complaints, sweetheart." lifting up both of your legs, he tosses them both over his shoulders before proceeding to pound into you once more, "a deal's a deal; you're mine now."
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when zayne had invited you into his office for a 'regular checkup'-
this was not what you were expecting.
it was late at night, nearing 3am when your good friend and doctor, zayne, suddenly calls you, alerting you of how he had to see you. detecting the worry in his voice, you head over to akso hospital almost immediately.
after taking the elevators to his floor, you meet with zayne in his office, watching him as his pristine demeanor morphs into something a bit more... casual-
sensual, even.
his usually perfectly styled, ebony locks of hair appeared mussed, like he had spent a considerable amount of time running his fingers through them. along with his tousled hair, you noticed how his dress shirt had a few of the top buttons unbuttoned, giving you a brief view of his chest.
his voice takes on an almost husky quality, saying your name before leading you toward the examination seat. he coaxes you to lay down against it, "zayne, what is this?"
zayne gives you a familiar, kind smile, "you've been long overdue for a routine check up, right? so i figured i could help you out with that."
"yes, but, i have my own doctor i could go to-"
"nonsense." zayne brushes off your words, already grabbing his stethoscope as he makes his way over to you. "now, just take deep, even breaths for me."
you nod, simply remaining still as zayne began his physical examination on you. grasping at the fabric of your blouse, he gently unbuttons it, revealing the soft material of your bra. you nearly jump when he places the flat end of his stethoscope against your chest, listening to your rapidly beating heart.
"hm, your heart... it's racing. are you nervous?" zayne trails his stethoscope across your skin, taking note of the goosebumps seen erupting. "interesting..."
your breathing becomes labored, watching as zayne sets aside his stethoscope. he suddenly leans closer to you, pressing his hands between your thighs, "so tell me, are you sexually active currently?"
feeling your mouth turn dry upon hearing his question, you felt your heart skip its beats before shakily telling him, "w-why do you need to know?"
"i'm a doctor, and it's important to me that you maintain your health, especially if you're sexually active."
you could feel the heat against your cheeks, a wave of embarrassment coursing through you when you shake your head and admit to him. "n-no, i'm only active when i'm in a relationship..."
zayne lets out a gentle (yet approving) hum. "good... now... on to the next part."
suddenly, zayne frames at your face, his expression filled with longing, before crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that takes your very breath away. unable to hide your feelings for him much longer, you kiss him back with just as much fervor.
gone were all thoughts of coherency, for all you wanted was himhimhimhim...!
in the midst of your passions, zayne had managed to take off all of your clothes along with his, throwing the crumpled fabric in a pile near the back of the room. he keeps your body against the bed, spreading your legs with both of his arms while slotting the side of his cock beneath your entrance.
his voice was hoarse, filled with need for you when he tells you, “if i can make you spill yourself all over me, then you’ll belong to me alone.”
your mouth was open, ready to tell him that you would have belonged to him either way when zayne suddenly thrusts himself into you. stars immediately fill your vision as the red hot pleasure seemed to course through your veins.
with your name coming from zayne's lips in broken syllables, you could feel your arousal getting stronger, watching as such a perfect doctor was falling apart-
all because of you.
"i-i never believed i could feel so strongly about you... you came into my life when i needed you the most." zayne tells you with a gasp, still moving his hips rapidly in and out of you all while pressing lingering kisses against your hand. "you're mine... and if i can just-"
an intense look of concentration was seen on zayne's face, and when he manages to angle his cock ever so slightly inside of you, you felt the way your pleasure seemed to intensify. words left you, and your moans were the last thing zayne could hear when you felt somethin snap deep within you, making a gush of fluid travel down his cock.
you listen as zayne lets out a broken groan, stilling his hips before releasing everything he had inside of you. the overwhelming sensation of your walls spilling all of its juices against zayne's cock takes your very breath away, leaving you in a haze. just as you were about to let the exhaustion take over, you could feel the way your new lover presses kisses against the side of your neck, murmuring a single phrase like a never-ending mantra:
"you're mine... you're finally mine."
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xavier had simply invited you over to have a movie night with him. he knew all about the stress you felt when it came to your university work, and he wanted to do something to help you with relieving it.
at first, you thought he was referring to the arrangement you had set up with him-
the friends with benefits type of arrangement where you could help each other destress in the most pleasurable of ways.
with you helping xavier blow off steam after his work as a hunter-
and you letting out your frustrations from college.
upon entering his apartment, you had already planned to shed your clothes, but he holds up a hand to stop you. "no, we're not doing anything like that... i just wanted to help you relax... literally.”
you give him a wide grin, "is that so? so, you seriously don't want-"
the way xavier looks away from you, yet still shakes his head in mere seconds, makes you feel a bit suspicious. "no, i don't. lets just relax together. i even ordered something for us to enjoy tonight."
not wishing to question him, you enter his apartment, feeling your eyes go wide upon seeing the spread of your favorite takeout on his coffee table. "no way! you ordered all of this for me?"
xavier simply gives you a sheepish smile. "yeah, i figured you needed something like this after your brutal midterms. come on, let's dig in. i'll put on something for us to watch."
staying true to his words, xavier allows you to enjoy your evening, all while spoiling you with all of your favorite foods. as you both ate your dinner in silence, you looked at the movie playing on the screen, but wasn't really paying attention to it. throughout the night, you saw the way xavier kept sneaking glances at you all while seeming to inch his body closer to yours.
by the end of the second movie, you couldn't ignore xavier's proximity and decided to play a little game with him.
"hey, xavier?"
he was currently flipping through the movies on the television screen, "yeah?"
you shake your head and take away the remote, turning off the tv as xavier gives you a questioning glance. "i think i've had my fill of movies... why don't we play a little game?"
"okay, what's the game?"
you give xavier an innocent smile before climbing on top of his lap. watching his eyes go wide before a blush dyes his cheeks makes you give him a victorious smile. "it's a simple game, really... we'll take turns touching each other, teasing the other party's weak spot, and whoever moans first loses."
his once sapphire eyes were now eclipsed by darkness, serving as evidence of his lust for you. with a grunt of your name, xavier places both hands against your waist. "okay, if you win...?"
"then you have to take me to the amusement park next weekend and pay for everything, tickets and all." you giggle, teasingly wrapping your arms around xavier's neck. "and if you win...?"
xavier meets your gaze, eyes filled with determination, "if i win, then i get to keep you as mine- we'll be exclusive."
his words manages to catch you off guard, making it easier for him to pin you against his sofa within mere seconds. a look of hunger graces his handsome features when he spreads your legs, gently unbuttoning the button of your shorts before sliding them off of you. you were left in your panties, jumping when you felt xavier pressing his finger against your clothed heat.
"n-no fair! you're cheating-" your protests end up breaking off in a moan, feeling the way xavier slides down your panties with his teeth alone. once you could feel the cold air hitting at your aching core, you swore that the moisture was felt nearly flooding out of you the moment xavier places his hot mouth over your cunt.
his tongue works on tasting every inch of you, drinking up all you had to offer as your hands automatically delve into his hair. your moans were all that were heard echoing throughout the living room. when you could feel xavier's smirk against your pussy lips, you gave his hair a sharp tug, his groans sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body.
using his extensive knowledge of your body, he plays it like an instrument, eliciting gasps and sighs of his name at the right moment without fail. and when he became so needy for you, he manages to stop eating you out like a man starved, replacing the spot where his mouth had once been with his cock.
you were quickly losing your mind now, letting out cries of his name when he sits back on the couch, forcing you to bounce up and down his cock all while weakly glaring at him. "n-no fair, you were totally c-cheating!"
xavier ends up smiling, all while watching you taking him in with such expert precision, “what can i say? i don��t play fair when it comes to you… especially when it comes to finally having you.”
upon finishing his statement, he places one of your perky nipples in his mouth while simply enjoying the show, wanting nothing more than to see you lose control all while claiming you as his-
forever.
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when you accepted rafayel's confession, allowing him to claim you as his sole girlfriend, he was afraid that you didn't understand just how serious he was when it came to you.
he recalls his first meeting with you as being something serendipitous; one where he caught the eye of a pretty girl while exploring the museum together.
the young artist saw how you were all alone then decided to keep you company. of course, his act of kindness was simply a means to keep you safe and away from any potential males who could cause you discomfort. yes, all he wanted to do was to give you a peaceful experience-
yet what he wasn't planning on was falling head over heels for you, the lumerian's heart somehow resuming its once silent beats as it came back to life the moment you smiled at him.
of course, he was so happy when you accepted his confession-
but now, it was time to show you that you were truly his forever.
getting close to your 6 month anniversary together, rafayel invites you over to his place, already planning a wonderful spread of food filled with the most luxurious of seafood dishes. from king crab legs served with butter to the lobster fettuccine, everything was perfect.
between sips of the sparkling white wine, rafayel simply takes in the sight of you enjoying the meal so happily, his eyes never once straying away from you for too long. once you had your fill, rafayel gently reaches over to you, wiping away the stray sauce that decorates your lips momentarily before kissing you.
the artist swore that he lived for your laughter, hearing the sweet sound coming from your parted lips. unable to hold back his love and adoration for you for much longer, rafayel picks you up from your seat, carrying you like you were his bride before placing you on top of the silk sheets of his bed.
"rafe?" you call out to him, and he could see the way your expression became flustered when he places himself between your legs. leaning down, he grasps your hands within his larger ones, leaning down to press lingering, butterfly kisses against your features. upon feeling such soft touches, you visibly relax from beneath him, giggling once more.
rafayel smiles against your skin before moving his head back, framing at your face as he met your gaze, "you are by far, the best thing that has ever happened to me. your unconditional love and care for me... has become something i truly cannot live without."
your name escapes from his parted lips in an almost reverent manner. "when i asked you to be mine, i didn't mean this as something that's meant to pass and grow stale with time... i meant this is as the start of forever."
he looks away from you, taking something out of the confines of his dress pants before revealing a tiny velvet box to you. his eyes were glimmering with hope and affection for you, gesturing at you to open it.
you sharply inhale, opening the box to reveal a cute promise ring in the shape of a seashell. in the middle of the shell was your favorite gemstone, and the sight of it was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes. "oh, rafayel... it's beautiful."
his smile was filled with pride the moment he takes the ring out and places against your left ring finger. "a promise, for what's to come... but... if you need more convincing..."
your beloved was felt leaning closer to you now, whispering against your ear, “if i can make you cry out my name, then you are mine to keep forever.” he finishes his statement with a bite against your earlobe-
and you knew that your heart was doomed from the start-
that you never stood a chance when it came to resisting him.
clothes were tossed carelessly aside, as if you were both filled with a hunger to feel each other without any barriers. skin to skin, heart to heart-
like how it has always been when you are with rafayel.
when he settles your body against the bed, all while exploring the sweetness between your legs with his tongue alone, you knew that you were close to losing your mind, your hair pulling against those precious strands of curls. rafayel was insatiable when it came to finally tasting you, almost greedily drinking in all you had to offer as you moved your pulsating core against his face.
only when your desire to have something fill you became too much did rafayel finally relent. letting out a gasp of your name, rafayel pulls you closer to him by grasping at your ankles. he teases your entrance with the mushroom tip of his cock, allowing your sweet arousal to stain at it before gently pushing himself deep inside of you.
your mind felt like it was drunk, eagerly taking in every inch that rafayel had to offer, your breasts bouncing in tune with his thrusts that were quickly becoming fueled by desperation and need for you. and throughout the night, neither one of you wished to stop as you ended up bouncing on top of rafayel with only his name being screamed at the top of your lungs each time you pushed your hips against his, riding him with an equal sense of desperation.
and as you chased your pleasure using rafayel alone, you were unaware of his sly smirk against your skin, for now, you truly belonged to him forever.
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end notes: a thirst post based on the fantasies i've had pertaining to the lads men 🫠 currently unedited, but i'll make changes once this is posted. my laptop is heating up as i write this;;;
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
586 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 days
Note
What about sharing a bed with roommate James Potter after a nightmare? The comfort and yearning would be everything
He can hear your harsh breathing before he sees you. You raise your hand to knock his door and realise it’s open, but James is already up and walking toward you. 
“James–”
“What? What’s wrong?” He ducks his head a touch to meet your gaze. “Woah, seriously.” 
“I had a dream that somebody was in my room.” 
He cringes. You’ve grown to be more than roommates, and even if he didn’t consider himself your friend he wouldn’t like to see you panicking. “There’s nobody in there,” he promises, giving you half a hug. He looks over your shoulder just in case, and then steps back. “You want me to check?” 
“No… I don’t know, I don’t think there’s someone in there, just–” You choke on half a breath. “Sorry, it freaked me out.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says softly. It’s harder at night to be bubbly. Harder to conceal bone deep, gentle affection for you. “Come on, you can sleep with me tonight.” 
He encourages you with an arm deeper into the room, shoving his book aside to make room for you where he’d been laying. He shuffles across the bed. “You can turn off the lamp if you want, I don’t mind.” 
You climb into bed next to him. You don’t turn off the light. He’s surprised when you lay down in the pillow where his head was moments ago and turn away from the door, but he hides it and follows your lead. 
You’re almost nose to nose. 
“I can go check, if you want me to. It doesn’t bother me,” he says quietly. 
“I know it was just a dream.” 
“But it rattled you,” he says, looking up and down your face slowly, carefully. 
James will confess to himself that he finds you beautiful, will feel no shame as his gaze trips lazily over your lips, your nose, and your tired eyes. He doesn’t even feel bad when he gives in to temptation and holds your arm, though that’s less to do with liking you and more to do with the way you relax at his touch. 
“Can’t remember the last time I had such a bad dream,” you murmur. 
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, alright? I’m here, n’ I’m not about to let somebody come near you.” 
“I woke up and I didn’t even look to see if it was true. I wigged.”
“You wigged,” he repeats, smiling gently. 
“Completely.” 
“Well, you’re allowed to wig every once in a while.” He snorts at your word choice. “But it’s alright. I can put the telly on, if you want?” 
You shake your head, pushing across the bed to be closer to him. You tilt your face down, murmuring, “You can put it on. I won’t watch much of it.” 
“I don’t have to put it on,” he murmurs back, voice turned to loving silk, “I just want you to feel safe.” 
“I feel safe.” 
James is glad for your closed eyes. He smiles like a fool, how awesome to get to be that safety for you. “Okay,” he says, pulling the blankets up to both your chins, his hand dropping lazily over your shoulder, “I have you.” 
580 notes · View notes
cherubunie · 2 days
Text
daddy please ~ daddy/dom gojo x sub! reader
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since the beginning of your relationship with gojo, he's known something was off about your sex life. the distant look in your pleasure filled eyes whenever he would talk to you a certain way in bed, the way you spoke to him while he was fucking you deep into the mattress, the way you acted- it was all something he knew of and had suspicions about, but didn't want to speak on it until you were either comfortable enough to share it with him, or it slipped out. lucky for you, he had the same problem on the opposite side of the scale
Word count: 5000
Daddy/dom! gojo x Sub! reader. sub + dom headspace / dynamic. sweet talk, choking, soft to rough sex, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, orgasm control, daddy kink, humiliation, heavy cnc, heavy breeding, degradation, praise
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DISCLAIMER: this work shows slices of subspace as well as domspace. Sub/domspace is NOT pedophilia, and the usage of the nicknames "daddy" among others' will in fact be used. if you're confused as to what sub/domspace is; google is free. if you haven't read my rules, I highly suggest you do, because I do in fact write about deep, hard kinks and smut. any and all hate will automatically lead you to my block list. other than that; enjoy - phoebe ♡
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Gojo knew something was off with you when the two of you first started dating. the way you act, talk, and hold yourself gives him suspicions, not bad ones, of course, just ones of confusion. Don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves taking care of you; financially, physically, and especially when you're having sex. that's when you're the most odd. its like you're entire demeanor shifts; giving gojo every peace of you to protect, being able to go absolutely braindead as he takes care of you in all the ways mentioned. the foundation of your relationship is built on trust, which is what you have given gojo in total.
here you were, standing in the middle of your room in the cutest outfit he picked out for you a couple days ago while shopping. a cute little skirt and lacy top, adorned by the most precious white lace stockings that stop right below your mid-thigh. you look into the mirror, twirling your skirt as you giggle to yourself.
you're not really one for skirts, but this one makes you feel good about yourself. you don't dress up in these types of clothes this often; preferring to wear gojo's clothes instead, especially since you spend most of your time inside the house, lounging around participating in all your little hobbies, or with gojo himself whenever you want to go out for the day. you don't go anywhere without him. he takes care of you and loves you, and you get to be the pretty little housewife that receprocates that love. that life is perfect for you, especially since as of recently, you've found yourself at home a lot more often than normal because of his line of work, but you can't complain because most nights, he's coming home to you, and that's all you care about.
"y/n, baby come here, lunch is ready" you hear gojo's voice call from the other room. today is his day off, so he decided to make you lunch to show you how much he appreciates you cooking three meals a day for him, every day. you trot into the kitchen, gojo's lean and tall figure hovering over the stove as he cooks you your favorite lunch.
you walk over to him and hug him from behind, your arms wrapping around his waist as you kiss his back.
"thank you for cooking for me, you really didn't have to" you say to him, squeezing his body in your hold with another kiss to his back. He lovingly snickers at your words, turning around in your arms. he cups the side of your face, a couple of his fingers in your hair, his thumb on your jaw as he looks into your eyes.
"hush, I don't mind. you take care of me just as much as I take care of you, let me do this." he says, kissing your forehead, then your lips before turning back around to gather your food onto a plate and walk over to the dining room table, setting your plate down for you as you happily walk over and sit next to him, eating your food with the silent comfort looming over the table as you face your boyfriend.
gojo notices your outfit, looking at you in wonder and admiration. He smiles at you as you do to sit down, smiling back at your boyfriend.
"that outfit looks very pretty on you baby, I knew it would" he smiles at himself this time, a proud look on his face as he juts his nose in the air. you laugh at him and roll your eyes, shaking your head eating the yummy lunch he's made you.
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After eating, gojo finds himself taking a shower to freshen himself up as you sit in the middle of your shared bed, scrolling back and fourth through Pinterest and a few online shopping apps on your phone. checking the time, its around 5:00 now, so you huff and get up off the bed, walking over to your closet and pulling out a couple pairs of pajama shorts and a cute little top.
you start taking off your clothes, starting with your skirt and top, but to your dismay, your bedroom door opens. You squeal and cover yourself with your hands, only to realize its gojo and his appearance makes you want to fall to your knees.
A towel wrapped around his waist, another in one of his big hands, towel trying his hair. small drops of water drip off of his hair and down his chest and abs, your face heating up as you dart your eyes anywhere but him because you're nervous you might actually drop to your knees.
"hi baby- oh?" he takes note of your appearance; cute pink lacy panties and bra, white lace stockings going up your thighs you have yet to take off. gojo eye fucks you from the doorway, a small smirk gracing his lips as you squirm under his gaze. your arms are still hiding your body from him, but he can still see nonetheless.
"I was- changing.." your voice trails off and you look down at yourself, then back up to gojo, your cheeks still slightly pink. He smiles at you and walks over to stand in front of you. he tosses the towel into the dirty clothes hamper and places two of his hands on your wrists.
"let me see" his command is soft, making you almost float away. he pulls your hands down to reveal yourself to him fully, your pretty nipples showing through the thin cloth of your baby pink bra. your hands fall to your sides as gojo lets them go, one of his hands coming to wrap around your waist, the other gently using his index finger to lightly brush over your nipple, a very silent whine forcing its way out of the back of your throat.
He uses his finger a couple more times to brush against the soft skin of your breast before letting your body go, walking backwards to sit on the edge of the bed. he leans backwards onto one of his palms of his hands holding him up as he pats his lap with the other, his legs spread and inviting you in.
"come here sweetheart." you listen, shyly walking over to stand in-between his legs, looking down into his lap. his hand comes to stroke your hair, cupping the side of your face, his thumb dragging down to your bottom lip, caressing the plump skin. his thumb grips your chin, gently forcing your face up to look at his, your doe eyes round and big as you look into his eyes, making him want to fuck you dumb.
"can- can I please, hmmm-" you cut yourself off, suddenly too shy to say anything to him. Satoru tilts his head to the side, wonder written on his face as you stare at each other.
"use your words, pretty girl" you gulp, nervous to tell him what you want, but you do so anyways much to your objection.
"can- can I make you feel good.. please.." your hands fidget with the towel he's wearing around his waist, whining out your question. gojo shifts in his spot, smiling at you proudly.
"of course you can baby, such a good girl for asking so politely" your chest fills with love at his compliment, fingers still fidgeting with the towel. you move to start taking the towel off of him, revealing his half-hard cock.
gojo's hand leaves your face as you slowly sink to your knees, coming face to face with his dick. you grab the base of him, tightening your fist around his length, slowly pumping. his moan is raspy and deep, his abs still a little damp from his drying hair. you pump him a couple more times before kitten licking his tip and swirling your tongue. his free hand comes to stroke and carress your head.
you put his tip into your mouth and hollow out your cheeks sucking softly, humming at his familiar taste. one of his hands comes up and finds its way to the back of your head as he ushers you to take him deeper, so that's exactly what you do. you start bobbing your head up and down his length, your tongue rubbing on the under side of his cock, your cheeks still hollow.
a string of curses leave his mouth, throwing his head back as you take him so pretty. your eyes are up, watching all the thigh-clasping reactions he gives you.
"s-so good, you- you're so fuckin' good baby" his hips grind into your mouth, making you choke slightly, but neither of you care. your tough swirls around his cock, feeling him grow completely in your mouth.
you take him out of your mouth, and gojo looks down at you in confusion. you make eye contact with him as you stick your tongue out, letting your saliva drip off your tongue straight down onto the tip of his dick, making its way down to his balls.
gojo sucks in a breath at your actions, wishing he could take a polaroid of you in this exact moment its driving him so fucking mad how sexy you look. He grips a handful of your hair, forcing you to stand up with a yelp dripping off your lips. he sits up, using both of his hands to spin you around so you're back is facing him.
he pulls you into his lap, your back flush against his front as he scoots the two of you back farther into the bed. his still-hard cock pressing up against your back, but he doest care, all he wants to do is make you feel good.
"t-toru" you question as he uses his hands to spread your legs, one hand resting on your inner thigh as the other comes around to your throat, holding you in place. his face is right next to your ear, his breath fanning you.
"don't squirm around, 'kay love?" is all he says before the hand that was resting on your thigh comes to your heat, pulling your panties to the side. his middle and ring fingers press against your clit, massaging gentle circles on your bundle of nerves. you let out a whimper, signaling for him to continue.
satoru kisses up your neck, his hand coming down to fondle with one of your breasts underneath your bra, pinching and pulling your hard nipple, earning yet another sinful moan to drag out of your mouth.
his fingers work their magic, your wetness increasing to dampen your panties as well as his fingers. you turn your head to the side, burring your face into your boyfriends neck muffling your pretty sounds right into his skin.
you jut your hips forward into his hand, and gojo takes this opportunity to slide one of his long fingers inside your tight cunt, earning yet another moan from you.
his thumb moves to replace his index finger on your clit, fingering you.
"I said, dont squirm around, love" you nod your head, trying your best not to grind into his hand. he slides another finger into you, pressing his fingers upwards just enough for him graze your sweet spot instantly.
the moan you let out is louder than normal, telling him he hit the right spot. of course he knows that, he knows your body like the back of his hand.
his digits pump inside you, wet squelching sounds coming from just below you as his fingers graze your sweet spot repeatedly. your hands fly up to grab onto satoru's biceps, digging your nails gently into his arms.
his fingers pick up pace, rutting inside you fast, the wet sounds coming from your pussy getting louder. you dig your heels into the mattress below you, pushing yourself farther into satorus chest, your head shaking from side to side.
gojo can tell you're close, so he lifts his head up to your ear and whispers
"you close sweet girl?" he asks and you nod your head.
"y-yes dadd-" your body instantly freezes as does satoru's, stopping himself from fingering you further. his ears perking up at your words.
"sweetheart?"
"no, no no no" you shake your head, embarrassment filling your entire body as you try and get away from your lover, but his fingers exit your hole, his arms wrapping around your waist, turning you around to face him instead.
he grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him, but you divert your gaze onto anything else- not wanting to face the man in front of you.
"baby look at me" you shake your head with an embarrassing whine.
"honey, look at me please" much to your avail; you look at him.
"im- im sorry I didn't mean to-" he interrupts your sentence, shooting you a loving smile.
"sweetheart, its okay for you to call me that. you don't have to hide yourself from me, okay? I love you so very much" you shake your head, not believing his words.
"it- its so embarrassing." you're face turns even redder at his words. he shakes his head at you.
"oh baby, its not embarrassing in the slightest. there is no need for you to feel embarrassed my love" he pauses, kissing your pouty lips before continuing
"no need to be so shy in front of me, let daddy take care of you" now its your turn for your ears to perk up, your eyes getting wider at his words.
"I- I love you too..." you speak softly. gojo shoots you a soft smile, his lips find yours once more. picking up where you left off, this time more gentle; he moves his body to where his hands can slide down your waist, pushing you back against the mattress, his body hovers over yours as his hand retakes its place, coming down to slide under the hem of your underwear, his fingers instantly finding your clit.
you groan into his mouth, grinding your hips forward into his palm. he pinches and rubs your clit before sliding two fingers into your sopping wet hole, once again finding your sweet spot as small, while your hushed whimpers echo off the walls of satoru's skull
satoru breaks the kiss, moving towards your neck to leave deep purple bruises on your skin. your breathing is heavy as he plays with you.
his lips make their way down to the center of your breasts, using his teeth to bite the material and slide it up and over your boobs before gently licking your nipple. you whimper at his actions, still grinding into his hand as yours find their way to his white locks, gripping his hair as he sucks on your hardened bud. he lets go with a wet 'pop' and kisses down towards your stomach, getting onto his as he makes his way down.
he's now face to face with your pussy. while he takes his fingers out of you; you "hmph" in protest.
"shhh, angel. daddy's gonna make you feel even better" he says as he hooks two fingers into your underwear, pulling them down below your ankles and throwing them into the dirty clothes hamper, you lifting your hips to help him.
he spreads your pussy lips apart with two of his fingers, blowing cold air into you. you whine at his teasing as he does it again and again. satoru eventually darts his tongue out, licking a dot onto your bundle muscles. you attempt to grind your hips closer to his face, but one of his hands come up to your abdomen, pushing your hips down onto the mattress, keeping it there.
"don't move."
you obey. he darts his tongue out again, this time licking a strip up the slit of your cunt. he does this a couple more times before his lips eventually wrap around your clit, sucking gently.
your moans pick up volume the more he eats you out. your fingers lace into the bedsheets, grounding you from floating too far out of your body, but it happens anyways, instantly slipping.
his teeth drag against your clit before his tongue laps at you, your pussy beyond drenched now, but neither of you seem to care as he feasts on you like a starved man. his sucking gets harsher as his free hand slips two fingers into you, slowly pumping in and out of you.
the sounds of pussy eating and moans echo off the walls of gojo's house, good thing you live pretty far away from other people- or you would be screwed, because you're so loud.
so fucking loud as satoru fucks you with his fingers and tongue.
he's working fast, lapping at your cunt in quick, steady strokes. your entire body goes limp, and your moaning turns to babbling sobs, not a thought in your skull as you feel the knot in your tummy quickly unravel.
Gojo's crystal eyes look up at you once he senses your change of vocals. his mouth detaches from your clit and he hovers over your figure, his fingers still working inside you, his rhythm never faltering. the hand on your abdomen comes up to cup your cheek, looking deeply into your fucked out eyes, he speaks gently
"you gonna cum, little one?" he asks, his fingers never slowing down. you nod your head with a small, barley audible whimper.
"hold it." you shake your head as you squeeze your eyes shut, overstimulation overcoming your entire body as you shake in his hold.
"oh yes pretty, gotta' hold it for me, doin' so good" you feel like you're about to burst from the seams and he's telling you to hold it? you can't anymore, so you do the last thing you can in order to gain his permission.
"please, please please please daddy I can't" you squeal, begging him for your release as he chuckles from above you, a smirk forming on his lips as you beg.
"who owns you? who owns this pussy?" he whispers in your ear, his hand on your face coming down to your throat with a squeeze as a reminder.
"daddy does, daddy owns me!" you thrash under him, the cord in your belly snapping.
"that's right, daddy owns you. you can cum now sweetheart, im right here, daddy's got you" the nickname he refers himself as makes you melt- feeling so much more loved as you orgasm all over his hand, squirting so much your head begins to feel light while tiny babbling bubbles from your throat and off your lips. gojo can't help himself as he praises you, giving your forehead kisses as his fingers slow, helping you through your orgasm. your back arches into him and your head shifts to the side as his huge hand on your throat moves to caress your collarbones.
"my precious little baby, such a good girl, takin' my fingers so well" he praises you
"good f' daddy" you repeat to him, your voice small as you blush
"yes pretty, very good for daddy" he kisses your nose before pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them with a hum
"such a sweet taste from such a sweet girl" he compliments you, coming down to kiss you deeply. you can taste yourself on him. your hands wrap around his back, pulling his body into yours with a small huff.
he pulls away, looking down at your appearance. your lip tint smeared, your hair disheveled, and your eyes clouded over with lust.
"you wan' daddy to use you baby? stuff you full of his cock until you're beggin' me to stop?" he tilts his head, almost as if he was taunting you.
you nod yours, quietly begging as you speak
"yes please sir, please use me, need you so bad please" your eyes begging to be fucked deep into the mattress, and its driving satoru insane with every passing millisecond. he sits up, adjusting himself as he grabs your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. he positions his thick, pale tip at your entrance, slowly pushing himself in as you whine at the stretch.
no matter how many times the two of you have sex, it feels as though you never get used to how big his cock is, stretching you out every. single. time.
he leans down onto your legs more, your thighs pressing up against your body now as he forces you into a mating press. your hands make their way around his neck and towards his back, your fingers digging into him as he slowly pushes himself in. he can tell with the progressively growing distant look in your eye, he's losing you.
and he absolutely fucking loves it.
he adores it when you slip into being completely submissive, giving him full control of your body and trusting him completely. its almost like he's falling in love with you all over again.
and you love being able to provide that euphoric feeling for him. you two were absolutely made for each other.
his balls smack the flesh of your ass as he bottoms out inside you, you let out a choke as he does so, the breath being knocked out of you. he's just so fucking long.
he pulls out almost completely before thrusting his entire length back inside you, a mewl spilling from your lips. his thrusts begin at a steady rhythm, skin slapping and tiny sounds filling the room. both of your guys' bodies become hot, sweaty and sticky. its so disgusting that it turns you on even more. your arms loosely dangle from his neck as your boobs bounce with every thrust.
satoru moves his head down so his forehead is pressed against yours. he pecks your lips before his speed picks up to one that's animalistic, causing your breath to hitch and a loud squeal being ripped from your throat. his hands grip the mattress next to each side of your head as he fucks you into the mattress, throwing his head back while his Adams apple bobs up and down as a result of his loud groans hitting your ears, you taking pride in being able to give him such a reaction.
as your hands fall down onto the bed and your entire body feels like jelly; your orgasm approaches, sneakily and quick. you moan louder at the tight feeling in your abdomen, signaling to him that you're close, but he doesn't seem to care as he looks down at you, a smirk on his face.
your moans only make him go faster, and with his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust, you scream out in pain and pleasure.
"h-hurts, daddy sl-slow!" you beg, but when he clenches his jaw, that's when you tell he's also completely slipped.
"you can take it darling, 'm not done usin' you yet" he says to you, a low groan, sinister and deep shivers its way through gojos entire body, escaping out of his throat directly into your ears.
your pussy flutters around his cock as he fucking you through your second orgasm of the night, squirting all over his abdomen, but he doesn't care, his hips never falter his quick pace that assaults your body. tears well up in your eyes with how well he's fucking you. gojo takes note of your teary eyes and pouts.
"you look so pretty when you cry baby, can't help myself when you're squeezin' me so tightly" he can feel himself getting closer. your breathing is heavy and your eyes are distant, mewls and small babbles are the only sound coming from you. rough skin slapping sounds from satoru's hips snapping against your ass fill the room as your legs begin to shake once more.
Gojo looks down at you, the pout returning onto his lips as he speaks
"look at me little one" he says, one of his hands unlaces from the mattress and grabs the base of your jaw, and you literally can't disobey as your eyes find his.
"you gonna take daddy's cum like the good little girl you are? wanna be stuffed with me so full?" he looks down, noting the slight bulge in your tummy every time he fucks his cock back inside you.
"f-fuck" he curses at the sight.
you nod your head, incoherent begs spilling from your whiney lips.
"speak up sweet girl, can't hear you honey, tell daddy what you want" he says, the tears finally spilling from your eyes as you feel your next orgasm about to spill over you.
"y-yes sir, please use me please, c-can't, so close!" your eyes close, more tears spilling down onto your warm cheeks.
"such a good little princess you are, cum with me sweet girl, you can do it, daddys right here I got you" is all he has to say before you cream all over his cock once more. gojo's hand comes down to press on your lower abdomen as he thrusts himself into you, shooting his cum deep inside your tummy. his head flings back as he moans quite loudly, his lower lip coming between his teeth.
its a good thing you're on birth control
he can't stop himself when he thrusts softly into you again, you wincing as he does so.
he also can't stop himself when he puts your legs down onto the mattress, keeping one of his hands on your thighs to keep them spread as he loses himself again completely, thrusting up into your pussy as you squeal, attempting to scoot yourself back on the bed to get away from him.
"you can't run from me pretty, 'm gonna fuck my cum into you, make sure you know who owns you" he chuckles, his free hand coming up to take both your wrists in his hand, holding them up above your head as you squirm in his hold, trying to get away from him.
of course you know what the safe word is, as does he. but you don't use it, and the both of you know its because you're just such a desprate little whore who can't help enjoy being used in such a way, and it makes gojo absolutely feral.
"s-stop, please! it- it hurts daddy please!" you scream, wiggling around trying to get free.
"you know the safe word pretty girl, you can use it any time..." he pauses.. looking down at you
"you want daddy to stop breeding your cute little hole, hmm?" you shake your head from side to side, embarrassment coursing through your entire body as you do so.
"please, no dont"
"then stop beggin' for me to stop, because you know no matter how much you do, it wont save you." his thrusts pick up speed, making sure his cum seeps into every single crack and crevice of your insides, marking you his.
"you're gonna take my cock wether you like it or not, slut" his hands let go of your wrists, coming down to your face in order to shove two of his fingers down your throat. your lips close around his digits, sucking on them. you collapse on the bed, your body going limp as his eyes meet yours. droll begins to fall out of the corners of your mouth and down your cheeks and the both of you reach a maximum high.
you clench around his cock, tightening around him as he feels his dick twitch inside you.
"cum with me baby, doin' so good, cum for daddy yeah?" is all he says before you're gushing around him, his cock shooting ropes of cum inside you once again as the both of you moan in unison, a pretty melody only the two of you can create in such a perfect way.
it takes gojo a minute to cool down before he's pulling his softening cock out of you. it takes him one glance at your demeanor before he's rushing to cup your face, realization hitting him like a brick.
"baby? im so sorry did I go too rough" your breathing is heavy as you try to gain composure from the earth-shattering orgasms he just gifted to you, but your silence worries your lover
"honey talk to me please" he says, pulling out of you and moving to hover his body over yours while he cups your cheek with one of his hands, making your eyes meet his as he stares at you lovingly. You continue to try and regain your composure, but it takes you longer than normal, so you decide to whimper out short words
"thank you" you whisper and gojo's chest tightens at your words.
"oh baby, you don't have to thank me for taking care of my pretty little girl, its what I do sweetheart" he leans down and kisses your forehead before pulling back to look at you again
"are you okay angel, did I hurt you at all or go too rough?" he asks in the most sincere tone you've ever heard. you nod your head with a smile as you start to regain yourself
"no, you didn't hurt me, perfect" your broken sentence somehow makes sense to your white haired boyfriend.
"I love you my darling girl, I'll be right back" he says before exiting the room, only to renter not soon after with a clean rag.
he cleans you up gently, making sure you have to do little to no movement as he takes care of you once again. you can feel the love radiating off of him when he helps you slip on one of his lose shirts before he crawls into bed with you, getting lost in each others warmth for any more words.
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ham1lton · 3 days
Text
NASTY GIRL!
— pairings: oscar piastri x reader.
— faceclaim: rihanna <3
— summary: slut, whore, bitch - all the words that have been used to describe famous party girl yn yln. so when you show up to the grid with a shiny diamond ring on your hand, people are trying to figure out just who would choose you.
— warnings: misogynistic language and attitudes about yn’s behaviour and actions. not from any of the main characters in this au though!
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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enews: y/n may not be releasing new music anytime soon, but she’s definitely making waves—this time under the sea. the party girl was spotted scuba diving in italy with her usual mixed-gender crew, proving once again that vacationing is her real full-time job. 🎶 or should we say, lack of? #priorities #wherethemusicat?
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badgalyn: y’all stay on my dick 😭 hop off.
-> user1: LMFAOOOOOO
user2: can a girl not holiday now?
user3: idgaf if she’s partying. she’s been working since she was 16. have a mimosa for me babe <3
-> user4: bffr. she just sings into a mic for a living. that’s not a job.
-> user5: every job is a job. and every job has it’s downsides. she’s been touring every year since her debut almost ten years ago. let her breathe 😭
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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liked by ynupdates, ferrarigirlies and 2,737,839 others.
f1gossip: look who’s in the ferrari garage today! the singer/songwriter yn on break from… well, her eternal break. and what is that we saw on her hot girl walk through the paddock? a diamond ring? oop 🙊
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user1: LEAVE YN ALONE !1!1!1!111
user2: she’s engaged to charles and they’re gonna have the most gorgeous kids!!
-> user3: um… could be carlos?
-> user2: no 😜
user3: nahhhhh no way she’s engaged 😷
-> user4: like c’mon. it’s probably a rich ceo from behind the scenes. no self respecting f1 driver would want HER 😒
-> user5: like who would actually marry her?
-> user6: u sound so miserable 😭
-> user7: like what fucking weirdos LMFAO 😭 focus on yourselves.
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ham1ltonshaderoom: singer/songwriter yn was invited by ferrari to watch the baku grand prix but was seen relaxing in the mclaren garage after a photo op. the moment went viral on social media, what do you think of yn’s disappearance ham1ltons?
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user1: idgaf. she can do whatever she wants.
user2: she’s so fucking ungrateful my god.
user3: love her!!!!
user4: who cares?? i just wanna know who put that ring on her finger???
user5: RELEASE THE ALBUM @/BADGALYN
-> user6: RELEASE THAT SHIT NOWW
badgalyn: is it illegal for me to move from place to place now? like damn 😭
-> user7: they stay on ur ass like
-> user8: WHO DOES THAT BIG FAT RING BELONG TO ?!!?!!
-> user8: I KNOW U SEE THIS SHIT
-> user8: ANSWER ME 😭😭
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f1: oscar piastri is your ‘24 baku grand prix winner!
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user1: OSCAR GIRLIES EVERYWHERE CHEERED
user2: YASSSSSSSS
user3: SO PROUD WOOOOOOO
user4: YN WHAT ARE U DOING HERE 😭
nicolepiastri: that’s my son btw 🍾🥂
user5: DID Y’ALL SEE YN RUNNING OUT TO KISS OSCAR?????
-> user6: WHAT?2&2&
-> user7: GIRL IT’S ALL OVER TWT
-> user7: https://twitter.com/ynsgirl/status/827373832992125
-> user8: oh… they in love frfr
-> user9: SICK OMG SICK SICK SICK
-> user9: HATE SEEING HAPPY COUPLES
-> user10: the way he carries her?? ims ick
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INTERVIEW W/ YN YLN.
by james collins.
she walks into the room like she owns it, a diamond-studded one of a kind necklace hanging off her neck, and a confidence that can only come from being at the top of her game. y/n yln is more than just a household name at this point—she’s a cultural phenomenon. whether it's topping the charts, turning heads with her bold fashion choices, or making headlines for her unapologetic lifestyle, y/n is everywhere.
GQ: let’s get right into it. you’ve never been one to shy away from controversy. you've been called everything from a "party girl" to… well, a lot worse. how do you deal with the constant slut-shaming?
Y/N: (laughs) i mean, what can i say? people are gonna talk whether i’m out at the club or chilling at home in sweats. they see me having fun, and they can’t handle it. honestly, i don’t care. i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.
GQ: that’s the attitude that’s made you so iconic. but it seems like the more successful you get, the more people try to tear you down. how do you stay grounded amidst all the noise?
Y/N: honestly, it’s all about knowing who you are. like, i know what i bring to the table. the opinions of strangers on the internet? they don’t pay my bills, they don’t run my career. i’ve got a solid circle around me—my family, my team, my people. they keep it real with me, and that’s what matters. plus, i’ve got my own inner voice. if i let every hater get to me, i wouldn’t be where i am now. you gotta block out the noise and keep doing you.
GQ: you’re definitely doing that, and it shows in your music. speaking of which, your last album broke records and you’ve hinted that the next one’s even more personal. what’s the inspiration behind it?
Y/N: oh, this next album is gonna hit different. it’s like a reflection of the last few years—everything i’ve been through, the highs, the lows, and the lessons. i’ve been writing a lot about love, discovery, identity, and power. there’s a track on there that’s straight-up about how people have tried to label me my whole life, and i’m just like, ‘f**k that, i define me.’ there’s some deep stuff in there, but also bangers that’ll make you wanna dance your ass off. it’s a mix, just like me.
GQ: there’s been a lot of talk about one specific song that fans think is about your alleged relationship. care to spill the tea on that?
YN: (smiling) oh, you mean *that* song? (laughs) yeah, people are good at picking up on things. look, i’m not saying too much, but let’s just say it’s a vibe. relationships—especially when you’re in the spotlight—are complicated, and i’m not afraid to write about it. but you’ll have to listen to the track to get the full story.
GQ: fair enough. now, let’s address the gorgeous and expensive elephant in the room—that ring. fans have been speculating non-stop about your engagement. can you confirm or deny the rumors?
Y/N: (grinning) ah, you’re nosy! but yeah, the ring’s real, and it’s from someone very special. look, i’ve never been one to hide anything, but i also love keeping certain things close to my chest. all i’m saying is… things are good. real good.
GQ: the internet’s been trying to piece it together, especially after you were spotted at the mclaren paddock with oscar piastri. any comments on that?
YN: (laughs) you are really trying to get me in trouble! look, i support my friends, i show up for them, and they show up for me. that’s all i’m saying for now. but if people want to talk, let them talk. i’m busy living my life.
GQ: fair enough! last question—what’s next for y/n yln?
Y/N: taking over the world, obviously. (laughs) but for real, the album is coming soon, and i’m working on some new projects that’ll surprise a lot of people. i’m not just a singer, i’m building an empire. music, fashion, business—it’s all on the horizon. so, buckle up, we’re just getting started.
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gqmagazine: from island girl to international superstar: our newest covergirl yn yln talks slutshaming, her upcoming album and wedding rumours in this months gq magazine. link in bio! 🔗
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oscarpiastri: real good is an understatement 😉
-> user1: WHAT)2&/@/
-> user2: yn being all cryptic and oscar straight up like ‘yeah we together and what about it?’
-> user3: OSCAR HELLO?2&2
landonorris: am i invited to the wedding?
-> landonorris: hellloooo @/badgalyn????
-> landonorris: i’m sosoooooo drunk @/badgalyn
-> landonorris: YYYYYNNNNNNN 😭😭😭
user4: she’s such a bad bitch idgaf
-> user5: ‘i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.’ — AS YOU SHOULD QUEEN!!!!
user6: y’all … oscaryn is growing on me fr
user7: this is so wattpad trope i love this for them
user8: YN RELEASE THE ALBUM!!!!
user9: MIC DROP FROM OSCAR YUP YUP!
user10: she’s so gorgeous… her face card omg
user11: Y/N YLN AND OSCAR FREAKING PIASTRI ARE ENGAGED AND CONFIRMED IT IN THE MOST CASUAL WAY?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION TODAY?!?!
user12: oscaryn engagement. yn6 being in the works. more pics of yn’s face card. ynnies, we won today.
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— oscar taglist: @papayadays @assholeinatrenchcoat @mxdi0 @lillysbigwilly @liberty-barnes @yelenasloverrrrr @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @mvk1ma @lozzamez3 @dear-fifi @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @styl1shl1v @whyamireadingthis @halleest @s4misbetter @llando4norris @chezmardybum @ivyvlair @isthatacandle @luvsforme @fabulouskk01 @littlegrapejuice @anotherblackreader @laur20a23 @greantii @sumlovesjude @sageispunk @mindless-rock @mehrmonga @ravisinghs-wife @six-call @notyaslol @1-800-love-me @nzygftoji @dilflover44 @ilivbullyingjeongin (all works taglist in comments/reblog. if you see yourself tagged and you don’t want to be or you don’t see yourself tagged and you want to be — refill out the taglist in my pinned post! <3)
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