#and all i ever hear is ''it gets better''

[screampied]

GOVERNMENT HOOKER ?! — GOJO & GETO ☆

ᡴꪫ headline. what happens when you’re the popstar too? even better question: what happens when you show up to a show with no panties thanks to your band mates gojo and geto?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, thrēesomes, semi-public themes, unprotected, fucking backstage, praise, dirty talk, geto showing gojo how to touch you, cucking, hair pulling, double penetratıon, size kink, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), gojo gets cancelled (again)

an. ignore alejandro that chapter never happened hahakdlf

popstar!gojo mlist

“um hello. if i wanted to watch you two make out i’d watch corn or something.” gojo pouts, scowl and all. he watches as his other bandmate—geto, the star bassist shove his tongue down your throat. he was so jealous, maybe having intimate relations with your two mates wasn’t the best idea but who cares, right?

“porn not corn,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from geto to stare at the popstar. gojo had the biggest frown on his face, he wanted some too. besides, it was about an hour before the show would actually start and he was bored out of his skull. he couldn’t help but roam his eyes all down your attire, the bedazzled rhinestones that stuck against the fabric, your fishnets, the way they effortlessly stuck against your skin. “what?”

geto leans back with a desirable slouch, tangled knots of his hair falling against his broad shoulders before he hums. “oh, he’s jus’ jealous. he wants to kiss you too, princess,” and geto briefly unstraps his mic that was attached near his chin. “to be fair though, gojo doesn’t know the first step on pleasing women.”

“uh huh, and you do?” gojo glowers, purposely sitting right between the two of you. the both of you dramatically groan, the mood suddenly ruined from the spoiled popstar before he slings an arm around you. “h-hey, pretty.”

and his voice cracks— oops.

you giggle and it only makes gojo’s pout deepen. he mopes and you cup his face with a cheeky grin. “satoru, stop whining. if you wanted to touch me too, you could have just asked,” and with irises as azure as a blue day sky, they dilate. gojo melts from your touch alone, a thumb of yours strokes his left temple and his attention’s suddenly captivated. “do you want a kiss too?”

“y- yes,” he stammers, hearing geto snicker directly next to him. he glares, uttering a, “shut up,” and as his eyes focus back towards you, he subtlety glances at your foxy glossed lips that were cutely pursed. “i wanna kiss you, please..”

it was winsome in a way. out of all the times gojo kissed you, he acts like this was his first time. but in actuality,

he’s always been a bit addicted to you. you sort of came out of nowhere, he’s always been a well known popstar all around the world but with you, he’s had to share his spotlight. not that he ever really minded, gojo would always share if it was with you.

currently—the two of you were touring together, you weren’t as influential to the famed pop genre, but you had a bit of a fanbase yourself. you started about a year ago, gojo was a … secret fanboy of you back when the two of you first met. he heard your voice and knew he had to have you.

have as in, have you as an opener for one of his shows which then turned to many. and now, he’s on his highly anticipated world tour with you. die hard fans immediately wanted to know more about you as you started to make your mark in the industry.

whilst your lips gingerly press against gojo’s, he lets off a sweet harmonic moan.

you taste so sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s always had a craving for sweet things, you’ve just helped him indulge in it further.

a tongue of his runs against your bottom lip. he sucks on it succinctly, tasting the syrupy flavor of lip gloss that bedaubs over your lips. he deepens the kiss by a mile—gojo brings two hands toward your waist, two thumbs swiftly rubbing against your sides as each tongue rummages through and through. a smile compresses against your lips as you make out with him, sucking on his tongue and he whines for more.

“he’s gonna fall ‘n love at this rate,” geto titters, prying his best friend off. gojo pouts once the kiss devestatingly breaks. a slippery concoction-like string of spit wrests away from each lips as gojo exhales deeply. geto leans in to kiss underneath your neck before speaking in a perky purr. “hm, we’ve maybe got a good… what—” and the bassist glances at the watch that sticks to his wrist. “forty minutes left?”

“hey, don’t hog her,” gojo grumbles, and they’re both practically fighting over you. geto smugly grins, lowering his head towards your thighs to nip more near your cobweb-styled fishnets. you lie back against the sofa as the two both stare at you with such lust piercing into their eyes. “you’re so pretty,” he puffs, a thumb of his stroking against your chin.

“toru, c’mereee,” geto slyly says, ushering him with two moving fingers. gojo gets beside him and they’re both hovering over you. leaning back against the cushioned furniture—you sprawl your legs out a bit, tossing off your high inched stilettos. “feel how wet she is for me— eh, i mean us.”

you were a bit wet, profusely wet after making out with geto previously for so long.

with his hands meandering all down your body in the process, his knee goes between your thighs every few seconds. your laced panties were merely stuck together against your skin—gojo feels himself pant once he notices the little dampened spot near the middle of the cottony fabric. “hurry up though,” you stammer. “kento’s gonna kill us if we show up late for another show.”

kento nanami being gojo’s stern manager,

“i got you, princess,” geto hums, grabbing ahold of your wrist. gojo however was quite eager, desperate to run his fingers near your soaked entrance. “satoru, don’t drool over her now. have some manners.” he teases, showing him how to skim his fingers against your now exposed clit. your panties were now pulled to the side and you gnaw on your bottom lip to suppress a few of your incoming moans.

“shut up, s-suguu,” he scoffs, a thumb of his ghosting down your swollen slit. gojo’s already mesmerized, oh, you were sopping wet. it should be a crime to be this drenched. although— he’s a bit timid on what to do next. gojo leans right between your legs, planting a soft kiss near the inner crevice of your legs. “m-mmh.” he coos out, the scent of your arousal immensely pouring into his nostrils. you were so addictive, he barely even had a taste of you and he already wanted more.

“she’s pretty isn’t she,” geto whispers and as you look down, they’re both right between your thighs. greedy, you knew they’d probably share. geto playfully sinks his teeth into your thigh before he trails his face up. he creates a single licking trail against your folds and you moan. gojo watches, the direct spot he licks against was your sweetened clitoral hood. “get her wet, like this,” and his long black lashes close. the warmth of geto’s tongue already makes your back arch. he’s gentle yet precise—he slurps you for a few more moments before a stubby thumb of his prods inside of your pulsating clit. after a few quickened seconds he pulls away, furtively smiling at gojo. “can you do that orrr do i gotta hold your hand?”

“oh fuck you, man. i can eat pussy.” gojo glares, and their banter was always so entertaining to watch.

you giggle, seeing gojo’s annoyed frustration before the bassist gets up to stand. you glance up at him—he’s towering over you, immediately you lick your lips at the sight of his skin tight jeans.

oh, how they perfectly stuck against his skin, quite literally skin tight. he had such a big bulge already poking out, his zipper wouldn’t even zip fully. geto’s fly was proudly open, he hums to himself as he sees your eager hands paw against his pants. with a big hand grabbing onto the crown of your head, he cheeses. “hmm, you want a taste of somethin’ too, huh? need me to train those pretty vocal chords before the show?”

you nod, but his hand snakes its way to cup onto your chin. “words,” he purrs, a thumb peeling down your bottom lip. you moan once you feel gojo starting to lay his tongue flat against your cunt, relishing in your precious flavor. he’s already drooling over you, making you ten times more wet. gojo was gonna order something before performing—but eating you out was cheaper, and far more tasty than his original craving dish. “tell me what that throat wants, pretty.”

as you’re pursing your lips to speak, you moan at the way gojo’s right between your legs, teeth of his playfully gnawing near your thighs whilst he’s buried face full into you. “w- want your cock,” you mewl out with pretty polished eyes. geto’s jeans, the bulge was all pressed against your face— he yanks down his pants only to rub your face against the printed fabric. “suguru, need it.”

“fuck,” he grunts, feeling how you voluntarily roll out your own tongue, flicking it against the edges of his boxers. his bulge, it leaves you with a non-taste in your mouth, your legs start to quaver from gojo’s tongue. the popstar’s eating you out as if he’s haven’t had a good meal in years. he’s cutely moaning into your cunt, feeling the growing strain in beneath his briefs himself. geto delicately grabs a fistful of your hair before he raises a brow. “teeth, pull ‘em off with your teeth. we won’t use our hands today, baby.”

with a pout, you comply—leaning in, the pointed areas of your canines latch onto his underwear. its stretchy. you whine, reaching a hand down to touch yourself but gojo lightly smacks your hand.

“girl, ‘m eating.”

geto giggles, watching the pout on your face only squeeze against your expressions tighter. as you’re peeling his boxers down with your teeth, slowly, his thick cock springs out. it’s so big, and of course—gojo pauses to take a quick look himself. his jaw faintly drops at his best friend’s hefty size, and as he’s staring—geto catches him gawking before he sneers.

“oh, you’re lookin’ like you wanna suck me off too, satoru,” and he hums once he feels your tongue lick against his leaky base. “don’t be ungrateful, popstar. your meal’s right in front of you.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, feeling a sudden wave of heat wash against the entirety of his face. gojo goes back to sliding his tongue against your sensitive nub, listening to your sweet whimpers. you’re barely able to hold still. in the background, all that could be heard was the clamorous sounds of chants and screams—the audience, awaiting for their beloved satoru gojo who was currently occupying his own vocals between your thighs. he was never once to complain, the softly padded cartilage part of his nose swipes against your folds and your tummy zealously caves in. he licks you in all the right spots, licks that gradually turn into deep, sloppy sucks. “m-mhm, so sweet.”

“heyy,” geto whispers, craning your head to stare back up at him. as you’re met with the thickness of his shaft standing tall right in front of your face, you lean in to kiss the very tip of his frenulum. he groans, the outer parts of his abs clenching in pleasure. he couldn’t wait to feel the very inside of your throat, the tightness, the sheer warmth. with your tongue exploring everywhere—every specific spot, tracing the outline of his size, you whine.

with plump, spit-glossed lips—you dangle your jaw down a bit, preparing to take him inside. “good girl. no slobbin’ on it, okay? you don’t wanna be a messy girl this time, do ya? not before a big show, yeah?”

you reply with a subtle head nod, your sweet lips happily opening around his ample fat cockhead.

“yeah? you want me to really throat train you, that bad huh. warm up that pretty diaphragm?” geto sighs, his darkened arch brows lowering once you start to slowly sink your throat down onto his excited length. geto’s barely a few inches in and you feel a sudden pulse race down his dick.

so cute, geto keeps his eyes on you the entire time—occasionally, his eyes detour from you to gojo. he was already lost in your pussy as if it was a maze he’d never escape from. gojo’s all underneath you as you sit over him on all fours. his tongue had already located everywhere—his tongue making its metaphorical mark in every secluded area inside of your wet folds.

you were melting, muffled moans started to spew out of your mouth from gojo’s tongue and the sudden bitter taste of geto’s pre-cum.

sweet, yet bitter..

three perfect words to describe geto’s taste— it lives on your tongue for a long time before you start to lower your mouth down on him. it’s a tight fit at first, you can already feel a few sloppy remnants of your own saliva trickle down the sides of your lips. “ah,” you gasp out, grazing the tip of your tongue over the fat crown of his dick. a taste you wanted to always savor. you moan, feeling geto sneak a hand down to pry a bit more between your already openly exposed legs. he’s almost all the way down your throat before you start to suck him off. he’s so thick that you merely gag from the first few thwacks his tip makes against the roof of your mouth.

“wider for me. lay out that tongue, yeah,” and a thumb of his traces against the curvature of your lips. you can’t help the drool that’s starting to trickle down near the very corners of your mouth. you whine, feeling that pang of a throb welt within your folds from gojo’s slurping. he was in fact, a messy eater. he couldn’t help it, especially with how sugary you taste for him, the more his tongue traverses throughout every part of your walls, the more he craves for more. he yearns for more of your taste. gojo prods two fingers against your slit before running them down, whining himself from his poking boner that’s grinding against the sofa. geto pulls his dick out to smear his dripping tip onto your lips—only to then shove it back in. you breathe through your nose before you start to suck again. timelessly, geto’s hitting against the back of your throat with ease.

gojo’s tongue already has you feeling a sense of numbness in your toes, wiggling it was little to no use. you eagerly wanted to touch yourself but each time you’d even attempt, he grabs your wrist so you won’t distract him from his meal.

gojo was dead set on making you make a mess on his tongue. “m-mph,” you’d gasp out in a muffled manner, geto’s firm grip on your hair makes your eyes merely roll into its backing depths of your cranium.

the bassist gives you a sweet head pat, shoving you all the way in before pulling you out, your nose tickles against the curled black pubic hairs that glue against his skin and he grunts. the perfect throat for a singer. after this, he was sure you’d be hitting high soprano notes like his loser best friend of a popstar in no time.

in which you were though, as you’re still perfectly on all fours with your mouth occupied and gojo directly propped underneath you, eating out your cunt like a starved man. you gasp, a sudden feeling of agitation leaking into your arousal.

it was approaching,

with the abrupt twitch of geto’s brows, he was coming the same time you were. “s-shittt,” he swallows, the ball stuffed in his throat, known as the adam’s apple. it occasionally shifts inside of his neck continues to move as he lets off guttural moans. with the way your tongue teasingly glides across his sensitive slit, he’s steadily preparing to shoot such a whopping load down your throat. “good girl, gonna make me cum, gonna make me c-cum with that pretty tight throat, yeah.”

geto’s low voice judders a bit, he’s that close that he almost starts to spasm.

with a concise bite on his lip, stopping himself from drawing blood—he leers down at you, a thumb of his stroking your lip. you were a mess, amounts of your own drool seeping down the corners of your lips before he wipes it away. “c’monnn, cum with me pretty, make a mess on that loser’s tongue for me.”

“fuck you s-suguru.” gojo grumbles, the rapid tempo of his tongue having you start to feel all kinds of pleasurable feelings. your legs had already gave out. two hands of gojo’s grip against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before you clench against his mouth. whilst gojo’s goading at you with his tongue, again—geto’s cock reaches all the way to the roof of your throat. your tongue dances against the prodding veins that coats his dick once more before within seconds, he shoots out.

he’s still got a hand cupped over your head. the leather of his glove on his right hand tugs against the hairs of your scalp as he’s emptying a gooey volume down your tongue. “ugh, ‘s it. so much i’ve been savin’ so much for you,” he pants, lengthy strands of his hair continuing to block his view of vision in his face. as geto’s abs tenses, the minute you taste the viscous spurts of his bitterly sweet cum, it slowly starts to drizzle in your mouth.

it pours down your throat like the niagara— not even seconds later and you finish also, body twitching and overcoming with the hypnotic feelings of ectacsy and fucking salaciously lewd nirvana,

as you rut your hips against gojo’s face a few more times, he grips your hips whilst you come undone. he groans, the tent in his pants practically poking through his designer ‘toru briefs that costs well over four hundred dollars. but leave it to the popstar to spend his money on pretty boxers, blue too, his favorite color.

geto inhales a single breath, nostrils flaring all up before he wraps a hand around his length—finally pulling it out of your mouth.

he had a sheepish grin while he stares at you being laid back against the couch, slouching, and that’s when he huffs, a thumb poking your cheek to open it. “l-let’s see that tongue,” and he rubs his swollen tip against the edges of your tremoring lips. you swallowed, lolling out your pink, needy tongue and gojo sits up to see also. he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealously, he wanted your attention. “mhm, good girl. nice ‘n clean, swallowed it all ‘n didn’t waste a drop,” and his eyes peer towards gojo who had a cute scowl on his lips. ah, he was already starting to feel left out. “satoru, kiss her.”

“uh? don’t tell me what to do, i was gonna do that anyway,” he pouts, his pretty eyes rolling back.

such sass, geto snickers at him before he kneels down to bring you up close to him. gojo cups your face, inching his wet lips toward you before he presses his own against yours. you moan, feeling the popstar’s hands wander through your dazzled blouse. with the taste of yourself still residing on his tongue, you grow addicted immediately.

a hand of his ghosts around the back of your neck, pulling you close and another hand of his ghosts between your spread open thighs. “grind against me, y-yeah, fuck,” he whines, feeling you already rub against his body. gojo’s a sloppy kisser too. the moment his tongue delves into yours, tangling with your own, he starts to feel volumes of his saliva dribble out from his mouth.

messy, a perfect way to describe the popstar. he’s had plenty of action throughout his life— it usually comes with the fame, but he’s never felt like this with someone like you.

sure, this was probably all counts of unprofessionalism but he didn’t care. you didn’t care either. geto, well … he was just geto.

“princess, keep grindin’ against him like that ‘n you’re gonna make him cum through his sweats,” geto chortles, pulling you off of him to press his own lips against you. gojo grumbles, watching his two band mates make out — oh, it was just something about your taste that made them both so drawn to you. they were driven to your lips, to your taste, to you in general. like moths to a flame. geto’s kisses were more passionate and sincere, he wraps a hand around your neck gently, a thumb caressing the passageway of your throat whilst he starts to suck against your tongue. with lips crashing amongst each other, he parts your legs open just a bit more before he departs away. “can never get enough,” and he hums to his best friend with a wry grin. “satoru, aw. what? are ya mad at me?”

“i was kissing her, man.”

“more like swallowing her face whole, come on baby-”

as they continue to bicker right in front of you, gojo leans back against the couch and geto props up directly behind you. he yanks down his sweats from last minute rehearsal and you hover over him in preparation to straddle him.

“satoru, you’re pouting.” you point out, cupping his face. indeed he was, cute pink bottom lip sticking out and he’s about to melt at how hot you look on top of him.

“it’s because he’s gonna live up to his other stage name as a two pump champ.” geto yawns,

gojo glares, desperately wishing to wipe that sly smirk off of geto’s face. then again he wasn’t exactly lying. the popstar’s known for a lot of things but most importantly—he was known for being the two pump champ, how he could barely last a few solid minutes inside of a girl before he completely spazzes out, finishing prematurely.

that only happened sometimes,

according to gojo.

“i’ll fuck you,” gojo bleats.

“what?” geto smirks.

“i said fuck you.” gojo corrects himself, barely even comprehended what he said the first time.

“yeah? maybe later.”

“stop flirting,” you roll your eyes, lifting yourself a bit on top of gojo. feeling geto’s hands suddenly cling onto your waist, you let out a soft murmur. “can i take you both?”

in a hoarse whisper, geto sneaks a few kisses against your collarbone. “are you asking, princess?” and his touch alone sends you a plethora of shivers everywhere. you lean back against his chest, still straddling gojo before biting your lip—replying with a subtle nod. “ah, ‘toru she wants to take us both. got enough energy for that?”

he shoots him daggers and the bassist only grins.

“f-fuck, jus’ . . hurry up. ‘m fuckin’ hard,” he swallows, his own fingertips brushing against the very curvature of your rocking hips.

white strands of his hair practically binding against his forehead. he’s undoubtedly hard, feeling his breathing slow down a bit as he looks down. your wet cunt was all swollen and preparing to be destroyed by them both. you weren’t even sure if you could take them both at the same time time—but where there’s a will, there’s a way,

you were far too pent up to even think about tonight’s show. your throbbing only increases before you get a hold of gojo’s length. he’s more thin with a lot of inches while geto’s more thick and bulky. just picturing the mere image of them both stuffing you full has your panties in a twist. speaking of panties— they were still leisurely pulled to the side of you, not bothering to take them off fully.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” gojo mewls out, his voice sounds more like a whine than anything. it was a contest between the both of you though — who was the most louder. gojo satoru or your pussy, he couldn’t help it. his whines only continue to ring across the small, claustrophobic room the further you take them both. “that’s it, yeah. jus’ keep those pretty eyes down h-here.”

a shaky breath cuts out from gojo’s lips as you feel him start to gradually sink inside of your cunt.

you moan almost immediately, holding onto his thighs whilst geto’s right behind you, following the same. you’re straddling gojo and taking him from the front and also taking geto from behind. the entirety of your pussy was lukewarm, it makes gojo already start to spasm—a familiar candied texture lingers in his mouth, his saliva that trickles inside before he can eventually swallows. you’re so tight at first, the grip you have against them both does wonders..

if it was anything though, gojo would take pussy over publicity any day.

you felt way too good. it doesn’t take them long before they both start to bottom out inside of you. geto nips a few kisses near the outer areas of your collarbone—he could never get enough of your taste, both of them couldn’t.

you were sweet like candy, gojo always did have a sweet tooth after all. as they’re both easing their ways inside of your slick entrances, you slump back against geto’s chest. “fuck, ‘s right. nice ‘n slow baby. takin’ us both so well.”

the stretch was purely appetizing—your cunt instinctively squeezes down against them, clamping.

as you start to jerk your hips forward with them being all the way in, you feel geto’s hands slither its way inside of your dazzled blouse. near the very skirts of the fabric, he fondles against your neglected breasts, giving them a nice firm grab. the tips of his soft padded thumbs strum against your nipples and you whine. “f-fuck,” you moan out, your hips rutting against them both in harmony—in perfect sync. even the sofa’s producing a tune of its own with the constant repetitive creaking. with geto’s hands still roaming against your body, it trails down to your chest and near your tummy. he cunningly grins once he feels the written lines of his signature displayed on your body. his signature—earlier, you’d ask him to write his name on you and he was more than happy to oblige. the musk of the strong scented sharpie wafts through the air, his fingers slew against the neatly written words that spelled out ‘suguru’s favorite’ in bold.

as you’re riding gojo, he takes a peek himself at your exposed abdomen and he grunts under his breath. “fucker.”

“someone mad?” geto fake pouts, poking fun at his best friend and that only gifts him a glare.

you continue to grind your hips against them, feeling gojo’s touch gently caress the lower parts of your body. the blaring roaring chants outside of the room near the arena only gets louder. like most of his shows, it was pretty packed. gojo’s always getting sold out shows of around thousands of people just to see him perform live.

but oh, did his precious little fangirls hate your guts.

they didn’t just hate you, they loathed you.

they loathed how you just randomly came into the picture, how you came out of nowhere and started opening up shows for him. everyone always wanted in on the scoop though. who were you and just why was gojo so obsessed?

where there’s gojo’s intimidating length—there’s geto’s deliciously fat girth. you couldn’t pick out just who was stuffing you deeper, you felt everything all at once. you’re unwaveringly moving your hips against them both and your cunt’s squelching out such pleasurable symphonies. “ugh,” gojo groans, dragging your hips back and forth against him with his hands. you’re so pretty like this, the view he’s got of you just riding him makes his dick twitch inside of you. you’ve never felt so full, with both guys already bottomed out—you almost struggle to barrel in both lengths at first. “k-keep ridin’ me like this ‘n i’m gonna cummm.”

you’re working your hips against them both—geto still has his hands attached to your chest, gently seeping his teeth into the juncture of your neck. his tongue was so warm, he flicks his moving muscle against the piercing marks he’s left you on your collarbone.

so sweet..

with each hole, it’s both getting its fair share of fullness and every flavorsome inch you’re taking your mouth watering. it salivates quickly and not before long—you feel yourself convulsing from each of them. you feel a palpitating pang surge underneath your thighs as you bounce against them both. the couch suddenly shrieks in unexpected dismay at the piles of weight slamming against the furniture each second.

“relax, easy easy,” geto purrs against you, licking near the outer shell of your ear. you moan, his hands starting to feel elsewhere before he rubs a few circles against your folds. you gasp, your body jolting in response. the stimulation was almost too much to bare—too good, combining both shafts, you felt the fullest one could ever be.

within seconds, they’re both buried to the hilt.

you pierce your teeth into your bottom lip before you start to rock. gojo stares at your body—the cute halfway pulled up blouse that was shimmering in the light. once all pretty and neat, now wrinkled and practically ripped to shreds all thanks to the tight grips of the two stars. gojo loudly whines, a hand of his sticking to your hips like velcro before he starts to yoke your hips further into him. “goddamn, s-so warm, jus’ askin’ to be stretched by us both, fuck ‘m not gonna last.”

“like i said, two pump champ.” geto whispers, broad hands of his own clinging to your backside.

his best friend gives him nothing more but a glower again as you’re taking both of them from each hole. the stretch lasts for a good while, your gummy textured walls squeezes against them before you feel a sudden coil burst. so good, the way your hips roll and throw back against them was so hot. the recoil—geto’s personal favorite part. he loves to give your ass spanks as you continue to jerk and jostle against them both. bodies on bodies on bodies—gojo grunts lowly as he brings a hand to play with your ignored tits. a thumb of his grazes against your unclamped bra that was just barely shielding your soft plump mounds.

“f-fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips repeatedly, the chants from the area only grows louder until it’s a deafening roar. time was merely up but you could care less. the hot warmth of geto’s breath brushes against your skin as he slides his tongue against your neck. he loved to dig his pearly whites into the depths of your skin, giving you a playful nibble. he does all that only to kiss against the new marks that print into your skin. he wants more of you. “s-stretchin’ me out s’good.”

as you’re being mushed with them both — your breaths start to become more heavy and irregular.

wet, your cunt sloshes and sloshes from each movement and it’s so lewd. you’re jerking back and forth until the sofa’s squeaking out pretty melodic moans of itself. you’re sopping wet, you reach down to touch yourself and geto grabs your wrist. “nuh uh,” he coos against your ear. “this pussy’s for my hands only, baby.”

“and mine..” gojo pouts.

“yeah, no,” geto chimes, hearing your cute grumble before he touches your swollen cunt for you. “mmm, such a wet girl. can’t believe you were really gonna perform with a pussy this soaked. my my.”

gojo’s losing it underneath you—his face flushes before he’s dragging you quicker and quicker against him. sharp exhales leave from his lips and it’s not before long that you and him were both getting close—geto shortly following too. it only takes about a good few minutes before that familiar pool stirs into the deep abyss of your obscene heat. you felt a good parcel of nerves trigger all over you’re body and you can’t stay still. with your mouth hanging open, geto’s continuing to rub circles against your throbbing clit.

“c-cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper pathetically, feeling the honed edge of his hips strike into you at a more hasty tempo. geto can’t keep his hands off you, they both can’t keep their hands off of you.

the minute you feel the fat head of gojo’s dick broach against that particular spot. you’re seeing all types of unnamed stars in your blurred vision.

it’s here, you’re long awaited orgasm—almost, it’s at the very tip of your tongue again, the very edge.

with the way your pussy’s responding to them both, you’re dripping like a spigot — not even caring that you’re coating each of their dicks with your saturated juices. “make a mess baby,” geto whispers, a hand wrapping around your throat as your ass pressed up against him. “cum on our dicks, yeah. ride satoru ‘till he fuckin’ whines.”

the pace only quickens—gojo lies back with his head already thrown back in defeat. “i’m gonna fuckin’ die,” he whimpers, his pulsing dick at its very peak. it feels so good for him that it almost hurts. gojo spanks your ass a few times for encouragement, feeling the tightness of his jaw clench down before he feels you wring around his crazed shaft. “h-hah, that would make a good track title. ‘m gonna fuckin’ dieeee.”

“s-shut up.” you moan, slinging your arms around the popstar. one glance at him and he’s already pussy drunk.

rightfully, you lean in to kiss him as you finally cum. as expected his tongue parts inside of you sloppily, masses of his famous saliva cascades down the sides. he was nothing but a mess for you. as you’re slowing your hips down, both of them approach their own individual releases. gojo’s hands run everywhere on your body, you shudder from his touch whilst you feel geto’s hips piston itself forward. your toes grow limp as you’re finally becoming undone—gojo follows as they’re both driving the thickness of their cocks into your slick, needy entrances.

as your legs lie flat, the both of them end up finishing at the same time. it’s so much, you’re feeling yourself get dumped and it’s already starting to overflow. gojo’s filling you from the front and geto’s taking care of you from behind. “easy, rock against him like that, yeah,” he hushes you, easing his thumbs against your hips in tiny little circles to calm you down. it’s trickling into you in such a slow way, gooey velvety portions of cum oozing its way into your pussy. it’s loud too, squelch after squelch reverberating throughout the entire room that it develops its own vibrato..

“touch her, ‘toru,” geto continues, latching his tongue against the miniature bite marks that press near your neck. the popstar was worn out despite it being just a few minutes. with heaving pants departing from his lips, he brings his hands to feel against your waist, your breasts, and back down between your legs. “she did so good for us,” and he kissed the top of your head, speaking in a rasp. “gonna perform with all this this cum stuffed inside, baby?”

“y- yeah,” you whine, feeling geto abruptly pull out to where you’re just bestriding gojo now. you take a quick glance down and your panties weren’t there anymore. you sigh, you really liked those. back to gojo—his dick that was still twitching inside of you grows flaccid and he whimpers at the faint jittery motion of your hips. “fuck, we don’t have to perform. can’t satoru just cancel the show?”

“and get dragged on twitter? heh, girl no..” gojo swipes a hand across his forehead as he’s still spilling such amounts inside of you. it’s a mess, the once flashy white sofa was all ruined with nothing but a salacious mixture of soaked liquids.

speaking of though,

as gojo’s catching his final breaths with you still hovering over him, he pulls out his phone. his sheepish smile turns into a look of horror once he opens tmz. skimming his eyes against the blue-lit screen, his lip tremors as he reads the bold red and black text. “famous popstar satoru gojo, bassist suguru geto and new opening singer heard screwing … backstage?”

geto deadpans and you furrow your eyebrows, getting off of him. “how?”

“idiot still has his fuckin’ mic on.”

gojo’s eyes widen as he stares in his peripherals at his mic. not again, and indeed it was very much on and operated. you could hear the echo grow louder from the arena just a few feet down now that it was against his lips. then it hits you, the ongoing chants from outside weren’t happening anymore. now, it was just pure booing. he uses two fingers to bring his mic up to the side of his mouth before switching it to autotune. “oops. no refunds….?”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Till The Water Boils Over Or The Frog Drowns.

Pairing: Yan!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Geto (JJK).

Word Count: 5.8k.

TW: No Curses AU, Dub/Con -> Non/Con (Revoked Consent), Fem!Reader, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Kidnapping, Financial Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Infantilization, Spanking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Forced Codependency. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It started the day Satoru first introduced the concept of ‘time out’ to your relationship.

He was immature and you were stubborn. You loved him, but without Suguru’s even temper and calming presence, sparks tended to fly in a way that left you at each other’s throats. With your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, you’d watched him sigh, roll his eyes, and storm out of your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You gave yourself a second, then another – sucking in a shallow breath and shutting your eyes, talking yourself through all your usual cool-down methods. You were supposed to go out, tonight, to a restaurant you and Satoru had both been talking about for weeks. You still had about an hour before Suguru was supposed to get home, before you were all supposed to leave together. It wasn’t a good day to fight, even if you knew Suguru would smooth everything over as soon as he got home.

When you were done, you moved to the bedroom door. One hour was plenty of time to talk things out. One hour was plenty of time to kiss and make up, even if you would hold a grudge for a—

You pushed gently on the door. It didn’t budge.

You tried the knob. It turned, but the door still didn’t open.

You pressed your shoulder into the wood, shoving with more force than you ever should’ve had to use. Something shifted – a chair slotted underneath the handle, Satoru’s back leaning against the other side of the thin wood – but didn’t give.

The frustration you’d only just managed to suppress resurfaced immediately. Still pressed against your side of the door, you called out, attempting to keep your tone soft, light. “Satoru? Baby?”

 The sweetness in his voice was equally artificial. “I’m right here, angel.”

“I—I think the door might be jammed.” You tried the knob again, rattling the metal for emphasis. Satoru only hummed in response, and you grimaced. “Are you gonna let me out, ‘toru? I really don’t have time to be—”

“Ninety minutes.”

“…ninety minutes?”

“Ninety minutes,” he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “After that, we can check and see if you’re still feelin’ so bratty.”

You were almost thankful there was a door between you. If it hadn’t been there, you might not have been able to stop yourself from throttling him. “Satoru, I really don’t have time to—”

There was an obnoxiously loud hum, the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. You groaned, resting your forehead against the cool wood. Whatever. He was being petty, again. You could do ninety minutes. And, even if you couldn’t, he’d probably be back in ten, tail between his legs and pouting for your attention.

You quickly resigned yourself to passing the time as quickly as possible. You laid face-down on your bed, bemoaning your taste in men and picturing all the ways you could break up with Satoru, once he let you out. You scrolled through your phone, spamming Suguru with half-coherent messages and memes from the very depths of your camera roll. You re-organized your closet, sorting your clothes by color and alphabetizing your shoes. You managed to read a full page of one of the bulky historical fiction novels Suguru kept on the bedside table before deciding you’d be better off breaking up with both your current boyfriends.

You checked the time when you were done, and discovered that you’d managed to kill a whopping fifteen minutes.

God, you were so fucked.

Only half-consciously, you gravitated back to the door, slumping against it. You opened your mouth, ready to call out to Satoru and say whatever you had to say to get out, but another voice cut in before you got the chance. “Baby?”

Suguru. He must’ve gotten back early. You let out a shallow sigh, letting your head fall forward in relief. “Right here,” you said, making no effort to hide your exasperation. “Can you open the door? I think ‘toru blocked me in.”

His deep chuckle was muffled, but still clearly audible. “I’m afraid I can’t. He’s still pretty mad, couldn’t stop talking about how you copped an attitude with him.” There was a pause, a shoulder being rested against the other side of the door. “I think he mentioned something about a dress?”

You were glad he couldn’t see you – he would’ve hated the way you grimaced at the reminder. “It’s a nice restaurant. I wanted to dress up a little, but he’s just so immature, and when he saw the dress I wanted to wear—”

Suguru cut in. “The red one, right?”

“Yeah, with the window on the chest.” You sighed. “Please, Suguru? I really don’t want to spend the next hour of my life locked in my own bedroom.”

Another laugh, this one more stifled than the first. “He just knows how pretty you’d look, babe. Probably doesn’t want anyone else to find out how beautiful our partner is.” When you didn’t respond, he added, “Didn’t he just buy you somethin’ brand new? He can’t complain if he’s the one who picked it out, right?”

You pursed your lips. He had – a pure ivory dress, a little shorter than mid-thigh and sleeveless, not exactly conservative, but not meant to show as much skin as you usually preferred to. It’d come with matching gold jewelry, and you’d politely accepted the gift, kissed him on the cheek, and stashed it under your bed to rot. It wasn’t ugly, nothing so expensive could be, but it suited Satoru’s tastes, not yours.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to soften the harsher edges of your distaste. “You know how Satoru is. Everything he picks out is just so—so him.”

“I’m starting to think you both might be causing problems.” You kicked the base of the door, but Suguru didn’t indulge your outburst with acknowledgement. “Just try it on, alright? If it’s that bad, we can always go without him.”

It took another minute or so of condoling, but soon enough, you were slipping into Satoru’s gifted dress, cursing as you struggled with the tiny, finicky zipper and smoothed wrinkles out of abused silk. You pulled your fingers through your hair once before returning to the bedroom door and knocking defeatedly. As if to add insult to injury, the door swung open in an instant, a smiling Suguru waiting on the threshold.

“See? Absolutely gorgeous, as always.” He leaned forward, cupping your cheek. You let his lips brush over your forehead before pulling away. Thankfully, he wasn’t cruel enough to draw it out any longer – his hand falling to yours and taking it up, tugging you gently towards the living room. “Satoru’s going to forget he was ever mad at all as soon as he sees you.”

You didn’t bother responding, only slumping against his side and letting him guide you forward. Distantly, you heard Suguru calling out to Satoru, but you were already busy – too occupied promising yourself that this would never, ever happen again to care what either of them was saying.

You would, of course, be wrong.

~

Barricaded doors quickly became a weekly inconvenience. You and Satoru fought often (never intensely and never for very long, but often), and he owned the apartment – meaning, despite all your whining, you couldn’t exactly tell him that his doors couldn’t all lock from the outside. Your ‘cool-down sessions’ (Suguru’s words, not yours) lasted anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple of hours, and Suguru was always the one to let you out. When you couldn’t be locked up and left to stew, Satoru would take it upon himself to leave the apartment – if only for as long as he thought it would take for you to forget you’d argued at all. You got used to it quickly. It wasn’t fair, you didn’t enjoy it, but you got used to it. You’d always had more patience than you really should’ve, when it came to Satoru’s antics.

And then, Suguru started showering with you.

Finding time to spend together was an ever-present obstacle in your relationship. Satoru alternated sporadically between planning lectures and grading papers late into the night to rolling his eyes at the concept of due dates and dulling out extra credit on a whim, and trying to guess if Suguru would be free was a pursuit in futility – his sermons were scheduled, but he was almost always being called out on some mysterious errand on behalf of one of his countless, faceless apostles. You didn’t work at all, but you went to school, and you kept yourself busy. You’d never be as busy as Satoru and Suguru, but you did your best to keep up with them.

Currently, you were basking in the afterglow with Suguru, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Satoru was already gone, rushed off to some early-morning lecture, but Suguru didn’t have anything to do, and you—well, you could miss a lecture or two if it meant spending time with him. And, even if you couldn’t, it was hard to imagine tearing yourself away from the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing aimless patterns into the small of your back, of his lips pushing warm, open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your collarbone, your throat. His hands drifted to your hips, grip tightening ever-so-slightly, and you felt a raspy groan reverberate against the side of your neck, Suguru pulling you close as he—

“Save it,” you said, drawing back. He pouted and you grinned, pecking the corner of his jaw and sitting up, letting his sheets pool around your waist. “Just for a few minutes – I feel gross.” A full groan, this time. You laughed, combing his disheveled hair back and pressing another kiss into his forehead, this one lingering just a beat longer than the first. “You’ll survive a shower, Suguru.”

You felt him shift underneath you. Before you had a chance to pull away, he was sitting up, his arms still around your waist – keeping you messily laid across his lap. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll wait your turn.” And then, when he only hummed in response, “I’m being serious. Somebody in this relationship has to wash their hair every now and then.”

His face was already buried in the crook of your neck, and he was moving toward the edge of the mattress with your body still tucked against his chest. He was planning on carrying you, presumably. Sometimes, it felt like if it were up to Suguru, you’d never walk anywhere on your own again. “I know.” His voice was still raspy with sleep, his usual articulation weighed down by the fatigue that came with a morning spent in bed. “I’ll help.”

“That’s really sweet, but—” You strung your arms around his neck as he stood up, taking you with him. “—I think I’ll be alright on my own, Suguru.”

For the first time all morning, his eyes flickered open, wandering idly in your direction. He held your gaze for a beat, then another.

Finally, the edge of his lips quirked upward – the sly, knowing grin you’d fallen in love with soon painted across his lips. When he spoke, it was in a tone to match, all confidence and cloying, calculated sweetness. “No.”

You faltered, at that. “…no?”

“Don’t wanna be away from you for that long,” he mumbled, by way of explanation. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll take care of. Don’t want you to have to worry your pretty little head over anything.”

You tried your best to laugh, but it was a weak effort, better left unacknowledged. “I don’t know how I feel about my boyfriend offering to, I don’t know, shave my legs or something.”

He only soldiered on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

~

You felt Satoru’s hands on your waist first, then his chest against your back. His mouth found the curve of your throat as if by instinct, teeth grazing against a bruise Suguru had left in the same spot the day before. You felt him lean against you and dropped the knife you were holding onto a nearby cutting board, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter to compensate.

You glanced over your shoulder as his head bowed, face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. He must’ve just gotten home – he was still wearing his sunglasses, only the first three buttons on his shirt undone. You grinned, twisting around just far enough to kiss the top of his head before turning back to your ingredients. “Rough lecture?”

“Grad students,” he muttered, the dread in his voice plainly audible. “One more fucking extension request, and I swear, I’ll fail the entire class.”

You hummed, letting him sink further into you. You might’ve let him stay there, too, if one of his hands hadn’t fallen to your ass while the other slipped underneath your loose shirt. Before he could creep upward, you jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Keep it in your pants. You still smell like a college campus.”

Of course, he didn’t budge. “But I missed you,” he whined, as shameless as he was clingy. “I had to leave so early, and I was stuck in my office for so long, and I’m gonna die if I have to wait any longer. Is that what you want? For me to die?”

“You could always go to Suguru, if you’re that insatiable.”

“But I want you.” You felt a thumb slip below the waistband of your sweatpants (or, Suguru’s sweatpants, technically – he’d been unbearable unless you were wearing his clothes, recently) and batted his hand away. Your efforts were, predictably, unsuccessful. “Please, baby?” And then, after a beat. “You don’t care about dinner more than you care about me, do you?”

You felt something delicate inside of you falter, crack, then fall apart entirely. It was strange – how long you could nurse a wound without acknowledging it existed at all. “It’s not that, I just—” You stuttered, then stopped entirely. You deflated underneath Satoru’s weight, and as if in response, he held you that much tighter, keeping you as close as you could be, lest he carve open his chest and force you into the open cavity. “I… I guess I feel like I haven’t really been doing a lot for you two, lately. You pay all the bills, and Suguru goes out of his way to take care of me, and there just… It makes me feel kind of useless.” You tried to punctuate the confession with a smile, a laugh, but both were hollow beyond the point of recognizability. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t tried at all. “You get it, right? I just—I don’t want to be the only one not doing anything.”

There was a beat of silence. You felt Satoru settle against you, his chest pressing into your back before he pulled away, detaching from you entirely. You sighed, letting yourself relax.

And then, just as suddenly, you were off of your feet and in Satoru’s arm, one tucked under the bend of your knees while the other supported your back. You managed a stammered, half-coherent protest, but if Satoru was listening, he wasn’t bothered.

He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, your half-finished recipe forgotten in favor of dropping you onto the nearest couch and kneeling over you, already pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Sounds like our baby’s been thinkin’ too much.” He was grinning, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Let me put a stop to that.”

You opened your mouth, but you didn’t have time to respond. His mouth was already crashing into yours; swallowing down anything you might’ve said and replacing it with a breathy moan, a haze over your conscious thoughts.

You didn’t bother trying to talk your way out from underneath Satoru, again.

~

You couldn’t breathe.

It took you a moment to realize what was wrong, another to put together why. You felt the blunt tip of Suguru’s cock hit the back of your throat as Satoru’s chest pressed into yours, the latter pressing the air out of your lungs while the former forced you to choke what little was left up. Satoru had set a relentless pace; his thrusts brutal, his tempo erratic, his hips crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. Two of Suguru’s thick, calloused fingers were lodged between your body and Satoru’s drawing quick, precise patterns into your clit, while both of Satoru’s hands were wrapped around the underside of your thighs, keeping your knees pinned to your chest, your body folded in half and pressed into the mattress. They’d always been taller than you, with Suguru kneeling by your head and Satoru looming over you, they both seemed so much bigger. They both seemed so, so much stronger than they ever had before.

You couldn’t breathe. The lack of oxygen was already rushing to your head, already replacing your sense of logic with a shrill, panicked buzz. Your body hurt everywhere they touched it, the warmth pooling in your core and arousal left behind by previous climaxes not enough to dull the sharp sting of Satoru’s nails against your skin, not enough to soften the harsh edge of the grin you could only barely see spread across Suguru’s lips out of the corner of your eye. It was a struggle just to move your jaw, and even then, any sounds you were able to make were borderline incoherent – your little chants of ‘red, red, red’ so stifled and so garbled by Suguru’s cock that you couldn’t have blamed him for not hearing you at all. It was only when you tried to pull your head back that his eyes fell away from where Satoru’s cock was fucking into your dripping cunt and to your face, tears of distress already beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. You let out one more panicked cry, hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to see the fear in your expression and know something was wrong, but that grin you had loved so much only widened, sharpened. “Like that, princess?” You felt his free hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair while the patterns being pushed into your sensitive clit sped up, intensified. “Faster,” he cooed to Satoru, his voice laced with something vicious and mocking. “If she can still cry, she can still fuck.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. Suguru just liked to be mean in bed, and Satoru liked to indulge him. That was the only reason they were doing this to you, that was the only reason Satoru listened; leaning that much more of his weight onto as his cock beat against the walls of your cunt. “Fuck,” Satoru muttered, as Suguru’s cock twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Got tighter when you said that. Is that what you want? For me and him to fuck you unconscious?”

This time, you didn’t try to pull back, you jerked – lurching out of Suguru’s hold, drawing back until you could gasp and pant and fill your aching lungs. “Red,” you half-choked, half-cried. “Red, red, stop, too much, I can’t—”

Satoru cut you off with a throat groan. You felt his form tense against yours, heard a shameless moan spill past his lips, and suddenly, it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Too close for that,” he muttered, his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “You can take it for me, angel.”

You couldn’t, but you didn’t have time to tell him that. You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to spit out was a keening, pitiful whine as you felt something deep in your core pull taut and snap, as your cunt clenched around him and you came undone on Satoru’s cock for the nth time. At the same time, he went stiffed above you, forcing his hips flush with yours and filling your abused pussy with something thick and searing. The feeling was alien, strange. You could’ve sworn he said he would wear a condom, tonight.

It felt like you laid there for a small eternity – trapped under Satoru’s limp body, Suguru still petting idly through your hair. You stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until, days later, Satoru pulled himself upright with a raspy grunt, turning to Suguru. You were vaguely aware of his head being lowered into Suguru’s lap, moving to finish the job you hadn’t wanted to, but that seemed distant, unimportant. The room was too small, too closed-off. You weren’t getting enough air. You were too warm. You were too small. You—

You needed to leave.

Your body was on the edge of the mattress before your mind could make the conscious decision to move. You were shaking, despite the damp humidity clinging to your skin, but you tried to ignore that and focus on getting your feet underneath you, on fishing Satoru’s shirt off the floor and pulling it over your head. You’d need pants, too, and your wallet – maybe you’d still have a little cash stowed away, something from before Satoru insisted you start carrying one of his platinum cards. You’d spend the night in a hotel, or better yet, rent a car – get out of Tokyo altogether. You had a friend who lived outside of the city – or, you used to, at least. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru and Suguru.

You made it to the doorway before Suguru called out. “Going somewhere, princess?”

You froze, but didn’t look over your shoulder. You could barely stand. You needed to go. “I just—I think I need a little air.”

“Give us a minute. Me or ‘toru should go with you.” There was a lull to his voice, an airiness just barely audible over the slick, sloppy sound of Satoru’s mouth moving over his shaft. You could remember admiring that about him, once, constantly thinking about how lucky you were to have such a cool, confident boyfriend. Right now, though, it was hard to think of his unfaltering composure as anything but inhuman. “It just wouldn’t be safe to let you—”

“I need air,” you repeated, because it was true, because you did. Little, black spots were already starting to dot your vision, and it felt like someone was trying to wrap their hands around your throat and squeeze. “I… I think I might be gone for a while, too.”

For all his tenderness, Suguru didn’t sound very concerned. “How long?”

“A couple hours,” you tried, and then, much more quietly, when he let out a disbelieving hum. “…a few days?”

This time, Suguru didn’t have to say anything at all. Leaning against the doorway, Satoru’s cum still dripping down the inside of your thigh, it took less than a minute for you to crack on your own. “I think we… I think I might need a little space.”

There was another beat of silence, occupied only by a soft groan from Suguru, the sound of noisy swallowing from Satoru. Finally, he sighed. You didn’t dare to look, but you could picture him shaking his head, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Acting as if you’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think, Satoru? Have we waited long enough.”

“—too long.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse, breathy. In your peripheral, you could see him dragging the back of his hand across his lips as he raised his head. “We’ve had everything ready for months, now.”

That was all Suguru needed to hear. He turned back to you, letting his head lull to the side. “Come back to bed, won’t you, princess?”

You didn’t respond. What little air you still had hitched in your collapsing throat as you attempted to move forward, only for a hand to catch your shoulder and hold you in-place. It was Satoru – now standing less than a full step behind you. He didn’t bother with a warning before wrapping his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his chest and off of your feet. You made a weak effort to thrash, to squirm, to dig your nails into the forearm laid over your midriff, but Satoru didn’t make a sound, didn’t let you go, only hauling you back to where Suguru sat on the edge of the mattress. You shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as you did. They’d both always been able to pick you up and throw you around like a kitten, being carried from place to place by its scruff. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they stopped listening to your half-hearted protests entirely.

“Over the knee,” Suguru said with a sort of flippant, beckoning gesture. “I want to make sure we get off on the right foot.”

Wordlessly, unceremoniously, you were dropped face-down into Suguru’s lap – his thighs pressing into your exposed stomach. Satoru lowered himself to the floor in front of you, sitting cross-legged and reaching out, cupping your face delicately. More out of reflex than anything intelligent, you tried to push yourself up, but a hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you paralyzed. Sometime between the doorway and the bed, the shaking had gotten worse. You doubted you’d be able to keep your legs underneath you, anymore. “Twenty-five,” he announced – an executioner reading out his victim’s sentence. “Fifteen for trying to leave us, and ten more for not listening to me. Does that sound fair, Satoru.”

“So mean, Sugu’,” Satoru whined, but you could already see a crooked smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “The poor thing doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Which is why we have to make a strong impression. I want her to know there’ll be consequences for misbehavior.” You felt his hand drifting up the length of your spine, lingering on the sensitive junction between your shoulder blades. “Twenty-five, okay, princess? I’m going to need you to count for me – if you lose track, we’ll have to start over.”

“Suguru, ‘toru, I don’t—I don’t understand what—” You were cut off by a sudden, bruising blow to the plush of your ass – all force, no friction. It took you a second to realize that it was Suguru’s hand, another to consciously acknowledge that he’d spanked you. Like you were some bratty toddler. Like he wanted to hurt you.

It took another lash to know you out of your spell-bound state and send a keening, pitchy cry spilling past your lips. The tears you’d managed to hold back minutes ago were back in full-force, dripping down your cheeks and pooling on your chin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle or ragged sob. Suguru hummed, but any sympathy he might’ve had remained unexpressed, hidden behind a thick veil of strict impassivity. “I need you to count. I know it’s hard, but it’ll only get more difficult if you don’t cooperate.” He paused, clicked his tongue. “We’re still on one. Are you going to be good, or do I have to get the belt?”

“Hurts, Suguru, you’re hurting—”

Another blow, this one to the back of your thighs and twice as harsh as the first two. Meekly, you mumbled a weak “…one.”

You couldn’t see past your own tears by the fifth strike, and by the tenth, you were sobbing openly. Each blow leaves your skin burning and your ass pulsing, but despite everything, he was far from brutal. His pace was measured, precise, and he was strategic – careful to never abuse the same spot to the point of numbness. After the fifteenth, you sniffled and forced yourself to raise your head, meeting Satoru’s eyes and silently pleading for his pity, for his help. Rather than empathy, you found a glassy stare and his hand in his lap, pumping idly over his cock. A few hours ago, you could picture yourself teasing him for not being able to go a full minute without someone touching him, even himself. Right now, the sight alone was enough to make bile rise into the back of your throat.

His thumb ran over your cheek, his palm settling under your chin and tilting your head back. “Don’t give me that look. This is twice as gentle as he’s ever been with me.”

By the time it was over, you were near-inconsolable, every number followed immediately by a string of distorted gibberish, a disjointed plea for him to stop, or be gentle, or let you go. You laid limp across Suguru’s lap as he drew slow, tender patterns into your abused flesh, every little touch sparking a new kind of pain, dragging another ragged sob up from somewhere deep and visceral in your chest. He was talking to you, cooing sweet nothings, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t want to hear him. You wanted to leave.

But, you couldn’t, and even if you’d had the strength to try, you wouldn’t have gotten very far. You hadn’t seen him move, but at some point, Satoru must’ve left the room. When your crying began to wane and you could bare the thought of opening your eyes, you found him standing in front of you, holding a glass of water in one hand and three white pills in the other. “Open up,” he said, drawing out each syllable for a beat longer than he really had to. “It’ll help with the pain, promise.”

You pursed your lips, grit your teeth, but Suguru’s thumb pressed into a fresh bruise and fear immediately overwhelmed your sense of caution. Suguru took precious seconds to reposition you – drawing you up by your shoulders to straddle his thigh – and Satoru’s hand found its way back to your cheek, his thumb tapping your bottom lip and slipping onto your tongue as you, reluctantly, opened your mouth. The pills were first, allowed to sit on your tongue until their bitterness reached the back of your throat, then the water, poured sloppily enough for the excess to spill out of the corners of your mouth. The reaction was instantaneous – a wave of nausea, then fatigue, your eyes immediately too heavy to keep open, your body too distant to justify attempting to control. You went slack, falling against Suguru, and he chuckled, bowing his head.

The last thing you felt was his mouth against your throat before everything went numb.

~

You woke up hours later, tucked into a bed that wasn’t yours and in more pain than you’d ever felt before.

Shock and terror startled you into consciousness before you could so much as attempt to fade back into blissful oblivion. You tried to curl up, to make yourself as small and as safe as possible, but your leg caught on something – a leather cuff, discovered after throwing the sheets that’d been laid over you to the side. A shackle, lined in velvet and sitting loosely at the base of your ankle, a silver chain connecting it to an unseen point underneath the bed. You gave it another tug, just to check, and unsurprisingly, it refused to budge. You choose to look away before the pit quickly opening up inside of your chest could deepen any further.

Instead, you turned your attention outward – to the rest of the bedroom. It wasn’t the one you shared with Satoru and Suguru, or the undecorated guestroom Satoru had semi-converted into a home office. The walls were a pale pink, the shelves already stocked with stuffed animals, fairy lights, jewelry boxes that (knowing Satoru) were no doubt filled to the brim. You weren’t wearing Suguru’s shirt anymore, either. Your blood ran cold as you glanced down and found yourself in a pastel blue nightgown – all lace and silk and frills no one could ever hope to actually sleep in. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted that they’d re-dressed you while you were unconscious, without your permission, or thankful they hadn’t waited until you were awake enough to try and stop them.

Seconds seemed to move in thick, dripping clumps. You couldn’t be sure how long passed until your disoriented stillness was interrupted, but by the time the plain, white door (a neat row of undone deadbolts visible above to the knob) swung open, Satoru stepping through with Suguru following shortly behind him. Automatically, you started to move towards them, but caught yourself, pressing you back into the headboard and crossing your arms over your chest, as if that gave you any kind of authority. As if there was any authority you could have, chained to the floor in the bedroom of a pre-schooler.

“You were beginning to worry us,” Suguru started, sitting on the foot of the bed. “But, then again, our little princess was always a delicate one, wasn’t she?”

You stiffened, bristled. You opened your mouth, but closed it as Satoru draped an arm over your shoulders, collapsing next to you. “Here,” he said, holding something out. “Suguru wanted to make you ask, but I’m not that stingy.”

 You attempted to shift away from him, but Satoru had never made things that easy. He clung to you that much tighter as your eyes fell to his hand, finding—

A cup.

A sippy cup, pink and plastic and decorated with little, glittering clouds.

The nausea was immediate, nearly overwhelming. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to throw it across the room. You wanted to do anything but accept it, but your throat was bone-dry, a steady throbbing already begging to root in the back of your skull. Wordlessly, you snatched it out of his hand and (with more than a little strain) pulled off the lid, drinking as quickly as you could. Satoru’s nails scraped against your bicep, but neither of them commented.

Suguru waited until you were finished to go on. “You’ll get used to it, after a few weeks. It’s really not that different from our prior relationship, just a few aesthetic changes ‘toru and I thought a—” He paused, grinned. “—softer environment might suit you.”

“We can be more honest now, too.” Satoru sounded too giddy, too happy. “Those last couple of days practically killed me – having to watch you leave the apartment, acting all independent n’ shit. This way, there won’t be anything stopping us from keeping you all to ourselves.”

A beat passed in silence. It took you a moment to realize you were supposed to say something, and another to actually open your mouth, to find your voice when all you wanted to do was shrivel up and shut your eyes. “I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you muttered, like that would make it true. Like enough stuttering, simpering obliviousness would be what made them change their minds. “When are you going to let me go?”

Beside you, you heard Satoru try and fail to suppress a breath of a laugh, and Suguru’s grin only seemed to widen.

[neptuneblue]

◞  ADORNED WITH ADORATION.

꒰ you give satoru a forehead kiss and your tenderness is something he's still trying his damnedest to get used to. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 0.8k. f!reader. fluff. fluff. more fluff. reposted from my old account n satoru deserves better. sfw.

satoru is still learning to love shamelessly; he’s still learning how to be adorned with adoration. while he’s always grateful to have your arms tightly clasped around him, hugging him with all your might, he still struggles to accept all your loving gestures fully and readily. despite how much he wants to feel loved by you, despite how much he aches to feel safe in your softness, he can’t help but shy away from its frequency, from the pride you exude when you slip your hand into his. but you’ve made it your mission to break down his apprehension.

exposure therapy. whenever you can, you press a kiss to his temple. when he’s least expecting it, your small hands cup his unsuspecting cheeks, your fingertips tingling as his face flushes and warms beneath them. your thumbs stroke his soft skin, taking in a towering man turning timid for you. now is no different.

you notice he’s keeping his distance again, and that simply can’t be sustained. not while you’re around, not while your endeavor is ardency, not while you’re teeming with all the fondness you’re desperate to display for him. “come on, let’s take a nap together.” you suggest, pulling on his hand until you’re dragging him along. despite roseate cheeks giving away timidity, satoru’s rejection attempts to persist. “baby, listen. let go, yeah? i have things to do.” he protests softly, weakly, and with little effort to stand by it, but allows himself to be tugged by you because the truth is he doesn’t want to do anything else except be yours. he wants nothing more than to be all for you. he doesn’t want you to let him go; he just wants to hear you say you want to love him instead. a soft smile and a shake of the head from you. “nope, the only thing you have to do is treat me like a tree and become my koala. let me hug and rub on you.” “me, a koala?” he raises a brow, looking away from you as if it would reduce the pressure and heat in his face. “eh, no thanks. you’re not really an adequate tree.”

pouting, you huff at his comment and grip his shirt, pulling him down until his face hovers just over yours. his lips anticipate the softness and adoration of your kiss, and as his eyes flutter closed to brace for arduous impact, he hears your amused giggle instead. there’s a sinking feeling in his gut then that begs him not to ever let you slip from his devoted grasp. when he feels your lips plant firmly against the center of his forehead, he freezes in place, eyes shooting open wide. your warm-blooded murmur follows. “well, i’m the best tree you’ve got so you better cling to me well, okay?” so of course, his lips clamp shut and he nods without argument or protest, gulping with a mousy expression. you draw him in for a hug then, an all-consuming one, one that makes him melt into your arms and surrender to his willingness to reciprocate. you don’t see the amused and moony smile he gives you; you never do. you don’t feel the way his heart skips a beat in his chest at the thought of crawling on top of you, being caressed and embosomed by you. even if he does suck it up and say it aloud, there won’t be enough emotion in his voice to convey it befittingly: his heart is not with him anymore.

his heart has a new chasm to dwell and meander around in. on a plot of your tenderness with a foundation of your holiness, that’s where he builds his new life and his new will. right there with you. when you lay in his bed on your back, arms expectant and open, you just look at him blankly. he tries not to smile so triumphantly knowing you’re about to wrap him up and he’s going to be laying with his head on your chest, your soft fingers raking through his hair, an endearing palm rubbing along his spine. finally, he lays down with you, sinks right into your patient and waiting embrace, nuzzling his head into the indentation of your collarbone, claiming your signature scent of cashmere and peonies for himself. it clings to you as closely as he does. “all i needed,” he sighs against your skin, a little hidden smile you don’t need to see to know is there for you. “you always make it better. every time.” there’s nowhere he’d rather be than with you. where he belongs is securely attached to you. there’s no future without you by his side, without you loving him so much it makes him move. there’s no such thing as ‘in love’ if it’s not you and him, in the end.

© 2024 neptuneblue. all rights reserved.

[slutforln4]

TWO PRIZES

🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader

🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed

🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[kendyzzlewp]

Long Ass Break

art donaldson drabble

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

tags: fluff, domestic, married life, husband!art donaldson, tennisplayer!reader, tournament, coach!patrick

word count: 629

__________________________________________

Art was worried.

He watched as you ran off the court, your hand over your mouth as you tried for the life of you not to puke all over the clay court. Your opponent stood there frustrated, arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face.

Minutes passed and the murmuring of the crown began to get louder due to your absence. Art looked around, his left hand scratching his head, a gold wedding band reflecting in the sun. No sign of you yet.

He was worried. He warned you about this happening, the pros and cons about playing in the tournament. You were stubborn, determined to power through because you’ve encountered worse. This was a piece of cake. Being your husband, he supported you but mostly, he just wanted to avoid your bad side.

Art glanced at the door you disappeared behind, his leg shaking in anticipation. You still hadn’t returned. The umpire was about to call the game. You were going to lose by default after being close to winning the whole goddamned tournament.

Fuck it, he thought and stood up to go through that fucking door. His heart racing as he pushed people from your team, muttering excuse me and thank you or whatever the fuck they needed to hear.

He reached the closed bathroom door, leaning closer to hear your retching as your stomach rebelled against you. His knuckles knocked on the bathroom door, as a courtesy and then pushed the door open.

Inside the bathroom, you were hunched over the toilet, clearly in distress. Art's heart clenched at the sight. He quickly kneeled down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Hey sweetheart," he said softly, trying to offer some comfort. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

You looked up, tears in your eyes, and managed to croak out, "You were right,” you admitted. “I need a break.”

Art's heart sank as he saw you so distressed and vulnerable. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his comforting embrace. You felt a little better, the nausea still lingered around your throat but the urge was gone.

“You need to rest,” he whispered into your hair, sound muffled. “It’s starting to take a toll on you.

You sighed, tired, sweaty and defeated. “I know. Just take me home.”

Patrick burst through the door, concern and disappointment etched all over his place. “What the fuck is going on? Why aren’t you playing?”

You rolled your eyes as Art helped you stand up on your shaky legs. “I need a break Pat,” you said, leaning on your husband for support. “I need a long ass break.”

“A break?” He asked, crossing his arms in disbelief. “When have you ever taken a break?”

“Fuck off, Patrick,” Art grumbled at his best friend, turned your coach. “She needs a fucking break.”

Patrick scoffed, the sound making Art’s grip tighten around you. “How long is this break supposed to be?”

“9 months.”

Patrick's eyes widened in shock as the weight of your words sank in. He looked from you to Art, realization dawned on him. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to just go home and sleep for the rest of the year.

"You're pregnant?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and understanding.

You nodded, leaning more heavily on Art for support. "Yes, I am."

Patrick's expression softened, his initial frustration melting away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I... I had no idea.”

“Now you do,” Art rolled his eyes, his own concern for you evident but the annoyance toward Patrick even more prominent. "I just need to take her home before she throws up all over you.”

Patrick stepped aside, offering you a supportive smile. "Congratulations, you fuckers. Take all the time you need. We'll handle the tournament."

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 

[zyonsay]

Een Nacht JOOST KLEIN

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: An unplanned encounter led to a fun adventure.

Reader: Male, Tattoed

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes

Now playing: 'One of the girls' by The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp & JENNIE from BLACKPINK

AN: Hello everyone <3 i've been gone for a while and i still dont have much time to write, but i got overcome by my joost klein obsession.. again. I hope y'all enjoy this. I expected to write like 2k words, it ended up being 4,5k. Take care!

#Justice for Joost

...7 Missed Calls from ‘Millie’

Your best friend and roommate had left you hanging for a one-night stand, to put it shortly.

Tonight was Joost Klein’s concert in your area and you had bought these tickets ages ago. Both you and your roomie were huge fans of his music and planned on having the most amazing time ever. That was until she texted you, a few minutes after the time you had planned to meet at.

‘Hey dude, im soooo sorry, but I just met this really amazing dude at the library and I really wanna take him home ymwim?? I hope you still have an amazing time, byeeee!’

Saying you were angry was a brutal understatement. Absolutely fuming fit better. But nevertheless, you had so much fun at the concert. You didn’t need Millie to have a good time, you hope he at least fucked her well if she’s going to miss a Joost Klein concert for that. But this isn’t about Millie, this is about you jumping around all night and screaming your heart out.

All good things must come to an end and so did the concert. Joost thanked the crowd dearly and seemed really happy with the performance. Now that you had gathered your stuff, you pulled out your phone and prepared to walk to the bus station. Should be a 23-minute walk. An interesting insta reel popped up on your phone, your eyes were practically glued to the screen. That was until you inelegantly collided with someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You had your phone in a death grip, it had almost dropped to the floor. “My bad, I didn’t look where I was going!” Then you were greeted with the sight of a messy bleach blonde head of hair and two bright, blue eyes. This was Joost Klein himself. +A shy smile crept onto your face; you didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, I’d be shocked too if I was standing in front of a celebrity.”, his attitude seemed cocky, but in a playful way. He was beaming, his grin as bright as the moon. Without thinking much, you opened your mouth to speak: “haha, exactly.” The sarcasm was dripping from your voice. “You seem happy, the concert went really well.”, you offered him a genuine smile. “Yes! I loved the crowd.”, his eyes lit up, “the numbers could be better though, at least my manager says so. But that’s just how the art industry is.” He kept rambling to you like he already knew you for ages. “Sorry, you probably don’t care. Oh yeah, and I forgot to ask for your name.” Joost lazily smiled at you. “I’m Y/n. I totally get that thing about the numbers. It’s difficult when you’re doing art as a job.” His gaze softened slightly. “It’s hard bringing in new fans when there are new artists every day. There’s always a younger, more talented artist out there.” His smile turned into a rather sad one, maybe he wasn’t so happy after all? “But I think you got something special going. Something different than those soundcloud rappers, you know?”, you chuckled lightly, “I think your music is true art.” For a moment he seemed to taste your words on his tongue. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while. “You seem like you do art too?”, Joost raised an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. “Yeah, I’m not that relevant though.” An awkward feeling crept over you; you scratched the back of your neck. “Ah, I don’t wanna hear it.” He barely let you finish your sentence. “I bet your really talented. I mean just your vibe right now!” Joost was now standing pretty close to you. He tended to close the distance between him and the person he’s talking to. Personal space is not in his vocabulary.

A quick glance to your phone screen revealed that your bus was about to leave in three minutes. Doesn’t matter, you’re striking up a good conversation with one of your favorite singers right now. “That’s so nice of you. People rumor that you’re kinda rude, but I haven’t seen any of that yet.” The left corner of his lips curled up, that was probably not the first time he heard about that rumor. “That’s because a lot of people who meet me say the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and then get mad when I don’t answer nicely.” He then intently looked at your eyes. “But you haven’t said anything bad yet.” Now he was smiling brightly again. “Hmm, so I gotta try harder to get on your bad side huh?”, he chuckled heartily. “You’re chill. I like you, I don’t get that with most people I meet.” He for sure is a big personality. “Oh my god, you should totally get your nose pierced. Would suit your look!” Admittedly, you have been thinking about getting a septum for a while now. But until shortly ago, you were working an excruciating office job, where piercings, colorful hair, gel nails and tattoos were strictly forbidden. That didn’t stop you from getting inked though. You waited to do your arms until you quit your job, but otherwise your whole body was littered with small and relatively big tattoos.

“I already got a few tattoos though; I worked an office job until recently. Getting a new piercing would’ve been difficult to hide.” Joost curiously eyed you, in search of any tattoos that might be exposed at the moment. “What kind of tattoos do you have then?”, he caught a glimpse of some ink under your shirt. “Loads actually. But my first one was a moth under my chest, I really like that one.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah? Let me see.” You could see right through him but decided to entertain his idea for a minute. Pulling down the hem of your loose button up, whose top few buttons were undone, you revealed a small part of the moth’s wings and head. With a gentle grin you declared that he would have to pay to see more. His smile now turned into a light smirk. “How much would I need to pay to see the rest?” Quickly, you quipped back: “How much does a drink in this town cost?” He now inches slightly away from you, he was all up in your space until now. “A drink, huh?”, he mused, “I’ll buy you the whole damn bottle.”

Joost guided you to one of his favorite bars in the area. His hand was on the small of your back when you two enterer the establishment, which seemed slightly out-of-place for a first meeting. “You know, I’ve never paid so much to see a tattoo before.” He teased while he ordered a bottle of vodka and two glasses. You really hope he wasn’t a creep, cuz this seemed like a red flag. “I must be pretty special then”, you grinned while ogling the clear liquid. The blond was now swirling the vodka in his glass. He chuckled, “Yeah I’d say you’re pretty special.” Then he avoided your gaze. He was wondering how the rest of that tattoo looked like. And maybe it wasn’t the only thing he’d get to see tonight.

The swig you took from your glass made you grimace. Vodka was one of your top alcohols, but you had to be honest with yourself and admit it tastes like hand sanitizer. “Don’t tell me it’s too strong for you.”, he teasingly smiled at you. His blue eyes darted towards your hand, which was resting atop the wooden bar. In a smooth motion, he interlinked his pinky with yours. ‘Drink je moed met alcohol’ or whatever the saying is. Nevertheless, Joost felt more forward now. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled. But the alcohol for sure gave him an extra bravado. He carefully inched closer to you. You could tell he was getting a bit woozy, even if he was lazily smiling at you. “You ok?”, a small chuckle escaped you. He intertwined his hand fully with yours now. The look in his face was soft and affectionate. A bit wobbly, but very sweet. You got a bit closer; the tips of your noses were almost touching. Only a few centimeters apart. Joost kept his eyes fixated on you, his breath hitched. His ice blue eyes seemed to roam you whole face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, the proximity was intoxicating to him. Joost’s eyes fluttered shut and you waited for a few seconds, messing with the dutchman in front of you. His eyes opened again and saw you grinning teasingly at him. “Really? We’re doing this now?” A hint of disappointment flashed across his face for a split second, but soon after mischievousness played in his eyes.

The two of you seemed to be getting along well, chatting and laughing with each other which felt like hours on end. Your knee was now touching Joosts and his hand has landed on your thigh. He slightly squeezed it, trying to give you a signal of what he wanted. “What?”, you grinned knowingly. The blond playfully huffed but the smile on his face remained. “You know what.” He tried to play it cool, but the intent look in your dark eyes made his adrenaline levels shoot through the roof. Sneakily, you slid a hand behind Joost’s neck. “I’m usually not into blondes.” With that you caught his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. The man practically melted into your touch, he held onto your shoulder as if he’d fall off the barstool if he didn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or the massive interest he had for you, but Joost was kissing you fervently. A desperate noise escaped him. One of your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. As you parted lips, Joost tried to calm his erratic heart. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. His cologne smelled amazing, even after messing around on stage the whole evening. The huffs of your hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He gently kissed your neck, you gasped and flushed ever so slightly. The bastard even slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your lower back. You let the hand on his chest wander a bit, earning a content gasp. “I’m loving this, but can we go somewhere more… private?” Joost let out a small laugh. “Yeah of course! My place or yours?”, he grinned at you. “My roommate is probably getting laid right now, so could we go to your place?”, he nodded with a sweet, drunken smile. “I’d love to take you to mine. It’s just a few minutes away from here actually.”

Either he was very bad at math, drunk or both at the same time. The apartment building was at least a 18-minute walk outside the city center. The breeze messing with your hair was fresh, a shiver ran down your spine. Joost risked a glance over at you from time to time, his stomach was churning with an excited flutter. Even though your gaze was directed straight ahead, you noticed the blond eyeing you. The faintest shade of rose feathered your cheeks, you bit the inside of your lip from nervousness. That didn’t go unnoticed, as Joost laughed brightly while pulling you into a side hug, still keeping up the pace. “You’re so flustered.”, he chuckled. Playfully, you slapped his arm. “Quit it.”, his smile widened and for a moment it seemed as if the sun was shining. “Try and make me.”, now his expression turned devious. “I’ll make you regret being this cocky.”, a pleased smile spread across your face. He wanted to provoke you a tiny bit more. “I’d love to see you try.” He brought you both to a halt in front of a building and opened the door. Joost looked at you and brought a hand to the small of your back. “Let’s get inside.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up the staircase to the door of his apartment. His hands were slightly shaky from anticipation and the keys in his hand rattled and clinked.

After a few seconds he had finally unlocked the door and led you in, he didn’t bother to flick the light on. You turned around, faced with Joost’s back, a click indicated that he had closed the door. You slide your arms around his torso and press up against him. His breath hitched as you began trailing sweet kisses down his jaw and neck. Joost, now reddened and smiling lazily, turned around and slid his hands down to hold your hips. His scent was fogging up your mind, and you couldn’t help but be excited. Once again, you pecked his neck, occasionally nipping at the skin. To give you more room, he tilted his head ever so slightly. A content huff escaped him as you bit down harder, now having found his sweet spot. “Not so cocky now, huh?”, you chuckled before continuing your shenanigans. Joost let his head rest against the wall behind him and let out a small needy sound. He placed a hand on your shoulder, to steady himself. His breath was rugged, and his skin felt as if it was on fire. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”, he whispered before letting his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder. When releasing your hold on him, you were greeted by two dilated eyes. “Let me be good to you.”, his voice was breathy, and his hair was messed up. “Let me take charge for a bit.”, he pressed the sweetest kiss to your lips. You quietly hummed as he began nipping at your neck, but before you could enjoy it more, he gently pulled you towards, presumably, his bedroom.

He gently pushed you onto his bed, you gladly let yourself fall backwards. “There we go.”, he murmured as he glanced down at you, splayed out. A possessive glint played in his eyes. With a tilt of your head, you invited him. You wouldn’t have to ask him twice, he quickly got on the bed with you. In a swift motion, he straddled you and placed his hand on your chest. You slide your hands up his legs and let them rest on his hips. Joost softly moans into the sweet kiss he embraced you in. He enjoys the heat and friction from his body being pressed down on top of you. His lips taste like cherry bubblegum from the local kiosk, you deepen the kiss as the blond grasps your shoulders. Carefully, you broke the kiss and tugged on his shirt. “Get rid of that. “, you groaned at the hot feeling spreading over your skin. His gaze darkened at the command, and he slowly leaned back. He lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. A cheeky grin was now plastered onto his face, you slid your hands up his body, feeling his abs. “Thank you.”, he laid his hand atop yours, which was still resting on his body. “But you’re pretty hot too.” Now his hands slid under your shirt. “How about you take yours off as well? I need to see more of you.”, a small hum erupted from your throat, and you began peeling your shirt off. “You really wanna see that tattoo, huh?”, he nodded with a small smile. The fabric hiding the big moth was now gone and revealed its true beauty. It was a deaths-head hawkmoth, its wings were detailed and shaded amazingly, he could tell that your tattoo artist was a master of his craft. Joost’s eyes widened for a split second as soon as he saw how many tattoos were littered over your torso. He didn’t expect that many, but oh god they looked good on you. “You have no idea how good you look with all this ink.”, he ran a hand down your arm, feeling its muscles and gently rubbing the skin. “Really?”, you tried smiling innocently, but it came out looking more like a cheeky grin. “Makes me want you so bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weak light of the moon made his blond hair look silvery. You delicately whispered back. “You can have me.”

Now he felt the heat rise inside him. His lips ghosted over yours, meanwhile he was fiddling with the stall of your pants. With a sense of confidence, he bit your lower lip, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that he was in charge now.

Once again, he nipped at your neck, but traveled down to your collarbone, your chest, your stomach and finally to the hem of your pants. Your head was tipped back in pleasure and the occasional groan left you. What you couldn’t see was him smiling up at you, enjoying the view. The soft moonlight painted milky stripes along your muscles. Joost planted a kiss on your hip before leaving bites around the waistband of your pants. He had already opened the button and zipper of your garment and now he pulled them off, tossing them aside. With the gentlest hands he caressed your thigh. A gaze to your thigh revealed even more tattoos, an elegant snake was swirled around your leg, entangled with the leaves of an olive tree. The dutch grinned slightly, then began leaving kisses and sweet bites over your thighs, he was burning up now. His hand slid upward on your thigh, though this time he was messing with the fabric of your briefs. He only chuckled lightly, before biting down harder. A soft whine escaped you, while he slowly pulled your boxers off. Then he sat back, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t tease, I’ll make you regret it.”, your threat sounded more playful than anything. He offered you a small, challenging grin as his fingers slid back up to your hips, where he let them rest. “Yeah exactly, what are you gonna do?” You groaned. “Keep going if you wanna find out.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses over your inner thigh, his hands roamed over your body, slowly making their way towards your crotch. Brushing over the tip of your length, he hummed in contentment. Your eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, licked his lips, then wrapped his fingers around your length. His soft hands felt like heaven to you, his motions steady and gentle. Occasionally +he teased your tip with his thumb, enjoying your expressions. “Bet you rail some guy after all your concerts.”, a teasing smile appeared on your lips. “You’d be correct to think so, yeah.”, he hummed with a sly grin. He stroked you at a slow but firm pace. “Are you trying to rile me up with that?”, he then mused a chuckle. Despite your currently… pathetic state, you mustered to spit out: “I’d never. Just making sure you’ll remember me very time from now on.” He sped up a little. “Oh trust me, I’ won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” Leaning in, he took the tip into his mouth. “Fu-uck”, you stammered. The warm, wet feeling of his mouth could’ve made you cum right then and there. One of your hands reached down to entangle itself into Joost’s blond strands. The mans breath hitched as he felt your hand in his hair, it sent tingles down his spine. He swirled his tongue around your tip, sucking gently while looking up at you. His hands held your hips firmly in place. “Didn’t know your mouth was good at anything other than singing.” Joost’s eyes crinkled at your comment. With a quiet ‘plop’ sound, he released your member. “I can promise you, it’s good at other things.” He muttered before tending to your length again, this time maintaining eye contact with you. The sight alone almost tipped you over the edge, his icy blue eyes were glossy, and his blond lashes framed them perfectly. Joost’s eyes flickered down, he noticed how you started to twitch lightly. He took you in deeper, focusing on the sensation in his mouth. The way his tongue swirled on the underside of your shaft made your vision go blurry, you felt a feeling tightening and coiling in your stomach. “I’m so close.”, you whispered desperately. Little did you know that he had other plans. Once again, he removed himself from your pulsing member, a string of saliva connecting to his lip. You ran a hand trough your hair, while your chest was sinking and rising with heavy breaths. Joost backed up slightly, removing any remaining clothes, then focusing on your figure again. He gently straddled you, his own length rubbing against yours, not without a sharp hiss from you though. “Hop on, let me treat you right.”, your muscles tensed from anticipation. A low groan escaped the blond, he nodded quickly before sitting up. With utmost care, he positioned himself and slowly sat down as he felt you push inside of him. He gasped at the overwhelming feeling, and you rested your head against the pillows, it was too much and not enough at the same time. Gently, he started slowly rocking his hips against yours, he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his soft moans. Feeling a bit revengeful, you bucked upwards, earning a loud gasp from the other man. A loud moan escaped him, and his body shuddered and tingled, he slightly sped up his rocking. Your warm hands trailed up to his hips, helping him steady his movement. Empty threats were never something you made, so you decided to go all out. In a swift motion you had basically thrown Joost off and positioned yourself over him, prodding at his entrance with your dick. He groaned and gasped at the sudden manhandling; a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. “That’s for teasing me.�� He wrapped his legs around your waist, while letting out a breathless moan.  Without much care, you pushed into him, setting a relatively fast pace. The dutch groaned at the rough treatment and you felt him dig his nails into your back and leave long scratches along it. “You’re so g-ood.”, his voice broke slightly, he was panting heavily. “I said I’d make you remember me.” Even in this pathetic state, he chuckled.

With his arms slung around your shoulder, he cried out in pleasure, small pearly tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I will.”, his eyes were glossy. Once again, he bit down on your neck, leaving yet another dark hickey. Bitten off moans slipped out of him; he was pretty sure both of your hips would be bruised after this night. The room was filled with breathy moans and gasps, along with the constant sound of skin slapping against skin. Joost was completely lost in the moment, he loved how you took control. “See who’s not being so cocky anymore?”, you teased. “Shush.” His head lolled back in pleasure. You snuck a hand around his throat, threatingly gripping it with very little pressure. “You’re not the one giving orders.” A shiver of excitement ran trough Joost’s veins, he ever so slightly arched his back, pressing his body closer to yours. “Now shut up and take it.”, your hips snapped against Joost’s, and his groans became even weaker. The pleasure was building up in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. His vision went blurry, and his body tensed up, his nails dug deep into your skin, leaving bloody scratched all over your back. “Fuuuuuuck”, he moaned against your collarbone. Warm, milky white cum shot out of his length, all over his stomach and chest, you yourself quickly pulled out and dropped the load on top of his. “Messy Boy.”, you whispered.

He laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily and feeling utterly spent. You grabbed a random t shirt on the bed and wiped him clean. With a good wash it’ll be as good as new, you thought. Gentle to not disturb him too much, you laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He let out a small huff, then wrapped his arms around you. “I’m going to feel this all day tomorrow…”, he mumbled. “Then I did it right.”, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warm breath trickling down your face and neck. Joost hadn’t seen the tattoo on your back before but was admiring it now. It was another snake, wrapping around a big dagger with various decorations on it. He ran a hand over it, feeling the skin he had scratched open around it. “So, you like it een beetje ruw?”, he whispered. “Ja but I can be sweet too.” Joost chuckled. You looked up again, enveloping him in a genuine, gentle kiss. Brushing a stray hair away, you caressed his cheek. The blond hummed lightly, his heart fluttering at the tender kiss. His lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Just for some people though.”, you grinned cheekily.

After having thrown on your briefs, you had retrieved your pants and began rummaging the pockets. “Can we go out to the balcony? I’d like to have a smoke.” Joost raised an eyebrow while his smile revealed his dimples. “Cigs after a good lay, huh?”, he began to fumble around in his bedside drawer, trying to find his own pack. “They’re on me, owe you after that.”, you giggled. Joost opened the slide door and led you outside. The atmosphere was calm, the two of you sat down on the floor. You held out your pack to the man, before taking a cigarette for yourself. He put it between his lips, waiting for you to light it. His eyes watched your face closely. After having his cigarette lit, Joost leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the fresh breeze. You looked over the city while the smoke mingled as they both exhaled. Joost reached out and tangled his hand with yours. “You’re so pretty.”, you mumbled absently, watching a few blonde hairs follow the flow of the wind, his hair was all messed up, but he looked perfect. The tips of his hair looked almost white in the moonlight. “I’m usually not into blondes.”, you ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”, he cried out, but he quickly reached for your hair in an attempt at revenge. You gladly lowered your head, letting him do whatever he wants. Instead of messing up your whole hair, like you though he would, he gently combed trough it with his fingers. It felt soothing, you leaned into his touch and ended up flopping your upper body down into his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Comfy?”

A pleased hum escaped you, moments like these should last forever.

[golden1u5t]

in-house babysitter | a.h x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: aaron is your boss and you're his in-house babysitter, after having a horrible date, he comes home and all he wants is you.

you were sitting on the sofa watching a horror movie when aaron came in, you heard the door close and his heavy footsteps fading down the hall to his bedroom. he hadn't spoken to you which was unusual for him, he always spoke to you no matter how upset or tired he was.

choosing to ignore it, you redirected your attention back to the movie. though, you kept getting sidetracked by the small sounds you could hear coming from him in his room. you didn't have the volume on the tv turned up too loud as to not wanting to wake jack.

about half an hour later, a loud thud came from aaron's room which caused you to pause the television. you walked towards his room and softly knocked on the door, a gruff 'come in' came from the other side of the door.

you opened the door and stepped inside his room, leaning against it after you closed it. you caught a small glimpse of aaron's toned stomach as he finished pulling his shirt down. "is everything okay?"

"yeah- why are you still awake? it's late." he asked, glancing down at his watch to confirm how late it was. you shrugged your shoulders and spit out a lie about just not being tired but of course, aaron saw right through it. "truthfully?"

"i just- i wanted to make sure you got home from your date safe." you shrugged, averting your gaze when aaron started to walk closer to you. your cheeks burned as you could almost feel his body warmth radiating off of him. ever since you first applied for the babysitting job you've had a crush on aaron, but having to live with him has helped you manage your feelings around him better.

"speaking of which, how was your date?" when you finally looked back at him, you didn't miss the way his shoulders tensed at the question. you opened your mouth to take the question back but aaron started to speak before you could.

"it wasn't exactly the best." he stated, shaking his head as he thought back to how awful his date really was. he kept the details vague when you asked, saying that they just weren't compatible but the real reason the date was so bad was because he couldn't keep his mind off of you the entire time and that caused him to be a bad date.

"oh, i'm sorry to hear that." you pressed your lips into a thin line, not trying to give away the fact that you were actually a bit glad the date didn't go well. aaron chuckled and took a step closer, he had you backed against the door with nowhere to go.

"no you're not."

your breath caught in your throat as he brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over the soft skin. even if aaron hadn't been a profiler, you've lived together long enough now that he's had time to learn all of your tells: when you're lying, when you're nervous, when you're happy, etc.

for a few moments you both stood there, pressed against his bedroom door, staring into each other's eyes waiting for the other to make the next move. aaron's gaze dropped down to your lips for a moment before he met your eyes again, he was silently asking for permission to kiss you, which you granted almost immediately.

you tossed your arms over his shoulders as he leaned forward and finally pressed your lips together. it was a kiss that portrayed all the feelings you've had for each other that have been building up for months.

aaron placed his hand under your thigh so he could lift your leg up and place it around his hip. he pressed himself against your core so that you could feel how his cock was hardening with each second his mouth was on yours. as much as you hated to have to pull away from his lips, you desperately needed air. aaron took that moment to tuck his head in the crook of your neck and place kisses anywhere he could.

"aaron- are you sure we should be doing this?" you mumbled as you pushed your fingers into the short hairs at the back of his head as his teeth lightly grazed your skin. you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to trail his lips over your skin.

"i've been thinking about you all night." he lifted his head from your neck and pressed one quick kiss to your lips, he pushed his hips into you to accentuate his point. "if you don't want to then we won't, it's all up to you."

you stared up at him while you thought about your decision. you really did want this but you had to think about how it could affect your job and your relationship with him afterwards. aaron pushed a stray piece of hair from your face and gently let your leg down.

"i want to." you finally spoke, you leaned up and ghosted your lips against his before slipping around his body. aaron turned around to face you, a soft groan escaping from his parted lips as you pulled your shirt over your head.

"show me what you've got, mr. hotchner."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hey!Hey! How are you doing? I hope well.

In any case, I can make the request with Ganyu, Sarah, Shenhe, Furina, Lynette and Arlecchino with a shy, kind and quiet Y/N taking a stance to defend them?

(Genshin Impact) Ganyu, Eula, Sara, Shenhe, Furina, Lynette, and Arlecchino's shy S/O defending them

Ganyu is speechless when she sees her S/O stepping in between the person she's speaking to.

(S/O) "Ganyu is always doing the best she can...! I don't see you putting even a single fraction of effort she always does!"

While she is surprised, her love for S/O goes up tenfold hearing them stand up for her. Especially knowing that they were just as shy as she was.

It inspires her to do the same, and takes their hand to excuse themselves.

Once they get out of the area, she gives such a warm smile to them.

(Ganyu) "Thank you for saying those things about me, S/O...Would you like to get dinner tonight, it's on me!"

Eula can't help but wince a little, seeing S/O step in to defend her.

She was used to this, and worst of all, this would paint a target on S/O's back as well, if dating her already didn't do that.

But at the same time, it made her heart swell hearing their words.

(S/O) "Who cares if she's a Lawrence! She's always fought for every single one of us in Mondstadt to keep it safe, including you! Don't...Don't treat her like that!"

Once she fights off her creeping blush, she takes S/O aside after the argument.

(Eula) "You didn't need to do that, but...thank you, S/O. Just don't get hurt because of me, got it?"

Sara is more impressed than anything that someone had the balls to even insult the General of the Tenryou Commission straight to her face.

And she continues to be when Sara steps in.

(S/O) "And what have you contributed to Inazuma? Sara would be the first one to defend the people, while you'd be doing nothing!-"

With how soft-spoken S/O was, she decides to step in so that way S/O doesn't let a vein burst in anger.

(Sara) "That is enough, S/O. Thank you."

Once they're in private, she can't help but smile.

(Sara) "S/O, about what happened back there...I have to say I'm impressed and...thanks."

Shenhe is resisting the urge to bash this person's head against the wall.

Not for insulting her, she was used to that, it was for doing this while she was on a date with S/O, and their time had to be wasted on this nonsense.

Before she could open her mouth and threaten them, S/O steps in.

(S/O) "She's not an adeptus. Shenhe is human, more than you are!"

Shenhe recoils ever so slightly at their words, moreso by the fact that S/O spoke less than her, and yet decided to interfere.

It also made Shenhe be that much more fond of S/O. They'd defend her, even though she didn't need it?

(Shenhe) "S/O, let us be off before I throw this man into the harbor."

And if they tried to insult S/O, then Adepti help them, because then she'd actually do violence to them.

Furina shrinks with every insult thrown her way by the person standing in their way.

At least, until S/O stepped in between them.

(S/O) "Shut up. Furina isn't even human, yet she'll always be a better person than whatever you'll turn out to be!"

Furina's mouth goes agape, she'd never thought that the S/O who would clam up at the presence of more than herself could say such a thing.

Doubly so when they spit at their feet and take her hand and drag Furina away.

Furina is blushing the entire time, trying to process what just happened.

(Furina) "That...was quite the performance S/O. And...u-um...thank you for defending me."

She is looking away, blushing madly as she thanks them.

Lynette really didn't care about the person calling her cold.

She was used to it, and it's not like they were wrong. She was busy tuning them out until S/O's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

(S/O) "If you're so adamant on her performing magic, I got one for you! Conjure yourself a bridge, AND JUMP OFF IT!"

Lynette's tail shoots straight up as her eyes go wide.

Okay, she didn't expect her S/O was even more quiet than her to ever say something like that.

Not that she had a complaint at all about it.

S/O and Lynette get some privacy, making her speak up.

(Lynette) "...I'd say you should say stuff like that more often, but that'll create more headaches for the two of us."

Arlecchino couldn't give less of a damn about what people said about her.

Which made her all the more surprised when S/O defended her from a stranger's rude words.

(S/O) "You call her hands creepy, but you haven't even looked in a mirror today!"

Oh? Now that got her attention.

She was under the impression that her S/O was like Freminet in terms of speaking to others.

Arlecchino doesn't even wait until they're out of earshot.

(Arlecchino) "My, I didn't know you had it in you, S/O. You should let that side out more often."

If that person wanted to interrupt her and S/O's conversation now, they'd answer to her instead.

S/O's defense truly wasn't needed, but the thought at least counts.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; top + gn!reader (no desc of parts but reader is fucking him), unabashed daddy kink, implied verse, small age gap, bottom megumi, petnames (boy, baby) thorough discussion of megumis daddy issues in exactly the direction you think, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮  a/n ; i haven't slept . im not responsible for anything. will not be taking questions at this time. 🫡

He's the prettiest thing you've ever seen in your life.

You tell him as much. He pretends to hate hearing it. Soft features bend at hard angles to convincingly drive in the fact that he detests it. Megumi is always like that. For the years you've known him - anything he's at risk of playing his hand too quickly, he retracts. You think that's why you're so addicted to getting him to let go.

He scowls, has the signature Zenin mean mug that almost makes the whole schtick convincing. You know better though. Maybe because you've known him since highschool, or maybe because you simply find him easy to read.

You've never met someone so touchstarved or so delicate all while being so, so mean. There's a lot Megumi can do but he's shit at hiding when something bothers him. When he's irritated, he's petulant and when he's pleased - you'd almost describe him as docile. In his own way. in the way a dog who used to cage fight could be.

You have an interesting relationship to Megumi. You're a stray just like him - with your family being a Zenin lapdog and you being their black sheep. You have a lot to relate on, but Megumi finds your attitude grating. Finds the harshness of your personality difficult, and finds the finesse you have for slaughter and violence to be nauseating.

It's probably why he makes wide, wet eyes at you whenever you're alone. Closes thing you have to someone to depend on with more experience. You're quick to appraise his work when you go on trips together. Despite your acting smug and Megumis frustration about your attitude, he soaks up the praise like a pretty little sponge. He's only a few years younger than you though, despite how he acts.

(Sometimes you think he wants the gap to be a little wider. )

A cute kid, only two years younger than you. Soft, striking green eyes. Soft lips. A mean little glare and spiky mop of black hair to compliment pale, cream colored skin. Megumi blushes easy, bruises even easier. His knees and elbows are a pretty cherry-blossom pink like something out of a movie scene.

The first time you fuck Megumi, its mostly because you're drunk and interested. It'd be stupid to not be interested in a face so pretty and desperate for approval.

All times after that are false happenstance. You make a routine of it - a silent game that makes it look like you're coercing him so he doesn't have to accept his own wants with any seriousness. You're cool with the ambiguity cause you're a little sick in the head. It's enough to fuck him, and sometimes when you're generous - to have him fuck you.

Megumi is pretty when he's being fucked. He changes his tune fast when his dick is a little hard and his guard is down - never thought that bratty little fucker could whine like he's in heat until you pulled the sounds out of his mouth yourself.

You always reaffirm how much he loves attention and praise and pampering when you fuck Megumi. He likes when you appraise him like that too. Soft compliments about his pretty little hole and the tightness of his waist. You manage it with relative ease. Makes your whole core throb just to see how much he twitches over something so slight and so easy. Such a mean fucking kid - such a brat, all welled up anger and abandonment issue.

Sometimes you wanna make him cry from him pain.

But most times, like now - you offer Megumi sweet pleasure. Give him that gentle, doting authority that he seems to fiend for. Desperate for reprieve in a way that stains his face, despite his attempts to brush it off.

Megumi takes dick like he was born for it. Slender fingers grip at your waist and claw at your back like he wants to rip you in half - tear you limb from limb but his legs wrap around your waist like he'd die if you left him for one fucking second. Megumi likes being full, you think. And he likes more when you praise him for taking your cock with such ease.

It's not rocket science to figure out he has some issues with authority. That distant relationship with his sensei and absent father make it obvious that he never wants to let anyone get too close. He could never really entertain certain relationships, he could never actually ask for approval. It's too little, too late.

Still, it surprises you a little when you first hear him say daddy. Not a lot, but enough that you pause in mid-thrust to stare at him a bit. He's mortified at the realization.

But you're not much less of a scumbag you figure, than all the figures in his life. You nod instead, feel arousal spark up in your stomach and claw it's way into your throat as you fuck him even harder.

("Daddy, huh?" You laugh because it's funny and you think the feeling of being so turned on you pass out is inappropriate. "Sure, baby. I'll be your daddy if you want." )

He doesn't say shit to you about it afterwards. Can barely look you in the during your post-sex aftercare and chat - though that conversation is never particularly romantic. You think the whole thing makes him want to die, so you don't really bring it up outside of a knowing look.

But it happens more often than that. Like a dam breaking, and something slips and now Megumi can't close it despite how desperate he seems to want too. It's not even that you're particularly into it at the start.

But well, he's pretty. Prettiest little thing you've ever seen in your life, even though he's tall and strong. He's got this grace that overwhelms you into fucking him dumb whenever you can. Try as you might, you will is not strong enough to not lust over someone like him calling you daddy. That level of unprecedented whining, the affection, the need in such an embarrassing word makes your feel so horny you can barely think.

So, it doesn't particularly surprise you when Megumi calls you daddy. Not anymore.

He's weepy in the face, somewhere in the distance - and he's still wearing his pajamas when you come see him. The scene is uncomfortably domestic between two people who aren't dating, but you don't really care either way. Megumi is pretty everywhere, but he's especially needy getting fucked on his kitchen counter sitting up to cling to you.

His arms around your shoulders, face drawn together with shameless embrassed. His cock is twitchy, leaking against the flat plane of his stomach with unbridled enthusiasm. He says it in a whisper today which you can't help but find cute.

It's raw in the back of his throat, mildly gravelly as his nails dig into your shoulders with an enthusiastic whine. "Daddy. Fuck, please, can't."

"What's daddy's boy want huh?" You say, obviously mocking - a hand wrapped around shaft with a thumb over his slit. Megumi shivers. Lets out a shameful moan at the word boy that makes you laugh hard, makes your head spin dizzy with lust.

"Wanna cum," He says, but doesn't beg. Doesn't know how and couldn't figure it out if you paid him. You've spoiled rotten after all. Filthy, really but he's prettier when he's acting precious. At least to you. "Make me cum, daddy please."

"Really milking it today, huh boy?" You chuckle and all he does is whimper. "Okay, okay. So fucking needy. Go on and cum, baby. Cum for daddy."

Megumi lets out a whine. A sound you barely knew he had in him as you say it that time and you laugh again and again as you bottom out. You watch him squirm as he finally finishes, back arching off the counter as the pleasure runs through him.

His face is still hazy when he comes down. Still beautiful in that way that makes you want to fuck him stupid and indulge for the rest of your life.

"Feel good, baby?"

He blushes faint and doesn't bother pushing you away. "Mm."

[azzifudd]

streams

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary:

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

four times paige & azzi were on tiktok live

rated: teen

2.8k words

disclaimer: you kinda have to know about the lore surrounding all those lives they've been a part of to fully understand this. this is based around existing events, but obviously a fictional interpretation of those events. also a warning that this is sappy as hell

[AO3 LINK]

“Let’s go! Two more points!” Paige’s shout echoes through the room. She stands from the bed and howls at the top of her lungs.

Azzi is unfazed. She knows just how much Paige loves LeBron. In fact, to her embarrassment, she has spent countless nights staring up at his face as she laid in Paige’s bed.

She hears Amari proclaiming that she’s single and sees Paige go over asking to be dapped up.

“Someone said Paige has a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend.”

“Paige does not have a girlfriend,” Inês protests, or maybe it’s Ice, Azzi can’t really tell, too distracted by Paige who has come back over to the bed and is leaning half over her with a smirk. Azzi rolls her eyes, but still returns the soft peck that Paige presses to her lips.

Then she playfully shoves Paige away, letting her get locked into the game again while she reclines on the bed. Almost immediately, she finds herself becoming extremely bored. Maybe she’d be interested in watching if LeBron was getting the record against Steph, but he’s not. Azzi didn’t even recognize the team he’s playing against.

She grabs Paige’s ever present iPad and pulls up her favorite game.

Paige stares back at her, eyes wide and incredulous. “Azzi, we can’t play- Are you serious? She wants me to play a game right now, when LeBron’s about to get the record?”

Azzi pouts at her, but Paige doesn’t give in. Instead, she jumps up, yelling, “Lock in!” as the game returns from commercial break.

But when not even half a minute later, a foul is called, Azzi takes advantage.

“Free throws! Come play,” she demands, and Paige flops back onto the bed without protest. Inês makes a whip motion with her hand, and Paige gives her the middle finger.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Azzi whines.

Eventually, the game starts again, and Paige stands up, shouting about the gameplay. LeBron finally breaks the record and everyone screams in celebration. They all watch the ceremony before Amari begins to wrap up the live.

“Only cuz of LeBron, not cuz of Azzi.” Paige says, when a viewer mocks them all for shutting up at Azzi’s complaint. But she still crosses back from the other bed, laying beside Azzi for some quick cuddle time before she has to go back to her room.

“Paige, someone’s gonna take you to breakfast,” Amari reads.

“Better not.” Azzi mutters, under her breath as the others laugh.

Amari ends her livestream, and they spend a little more time messing around, until they realize that it’s almost curfew.

Ice turns to Azzi’s bed which has been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“She’s asleep, already?!” Paige appears to be deeply asleep, mouth slightly open and face pressed into the pillow as Azzi cuddles in behind her.

“Shush, you know she has trouble sleeping sometimes.” Azzi whispers over her head.

“Well, she’s gonna have to have trouble sleeping in our room, because I’m not getting in trouble when the coaches come for room check and lover girl is missing because she’s over here being your little spoon.” Ice grabs a pillow from Inês bed and whacks Paige in the face with it.

“Bruh, what the hell?!” Paige sputters.

“Let’s go! I want to sleep too.”

“Ugh, fine.” Paige stands and quickly gathers her things before going to stand beside Azzi’s bedside. Without a word, their friends turn away as Paige leans down to kiss Azzi goodbye.

The next morning, a knock sounds at Paige’s door.

“Ice, answer it.” Paige shoves her head under a pillow.

“You’re closer to the door.” Ice complains.

“Freshman duty.” Paige fires back.

“I’m not even a real freshman!”

Knuckles rap against the door again. “Room service!”

Paige finally drags herself to the door and pulls it open. The hotel employee wheels in a cart full of food, transferring it onto the table in the corner of the room. Paige thanks him and he leaves.

A full breakfast spread covers the table. A small white card sits by itself on a plate at the center of all the food. Ice wanders over, drawn by delicious smells. She picks up the card, snorting out a laugh at its contents.

“Thank you, Azzi.”

Paige’s face scrunches up with confusion before she takes the card from Ice’s outstretched hand.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Love, Not Paige’s girlfriend

//

Azzi wakes to the sun shining directly into her face and her bed moving beneath her.

It’s only when the bed groans in pain that she realizes it’s not the bed that’s moving, it’s Paige beneath her, burying her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“Why do you sleep with your blinds open?” Paige hisses, clearly as hungover as Azzi feels.

“I do not sleep with my blinds open,” Azzi rasps, unable to raise her voice above a whisper as her head pounds. “I didn’t have time to close them after you threw me onto the bed and koala bear’d onto me.”

“You know I get cuddly when I’m drunk.”

It’s an understatement. Azzi is still foggy on some of last night’s events, but she can remember how Paige had spent half the night latched onto their teammates and the other with her hands glued to Azzi’s body.

Azzi throws the blanket over both their heads, hoping the darkness can help them recover before they have to wake up. But before they can get any meaningful rest, a knock sounds at the door.

“Hey, are you guys decent?” Caroline’s voice comes through the door. “I’m coming in, in three, two, one.”

She still gives them a few more seconds. She’s one of the only girls on the team that hasn’t walked in on them, and she wants to keep it that way.

Azzi has poked her head back out of her sheets, but Paige remains hidden, just a lump in the blankets.

Caroline places a bottle of Gatorade and a bottle of coconut water on the bedside table alongside some pain killers.

“Caroline, my angel.”

Azzi sits up, throwing back the pills with a deep swig of the coconut water. She nudges Paige, who simply rolls over and buries her face in Azzi’s stomach.

“Dude, drink the Gatorade.”

Paige cracks an eye, looking up pitifully. “Feed me.”

“Ugh.” Caroline makes a disgusted noise. “Well, when you guys are good, Ice brought breakfast. Not sure how much you remember from last night because you both were pretty gone, but something happened on Ice’s live that you’ll wanna see.”

“Um, that don’t sound too good.” Paige has finally propped herself up to take light sips of the Gatorade that Azzi has passed to her.

“It’s not a huge deal,” Caroline says, clapping her hands together. “Just something you should know about.”

“We’ll be out soon,” Azzi replies, and then Caroline exits, leaving a confused Paige and Azzi behind her.

Azzi sighs and reaches for her phone, shocked to see her group chat with her brothers has over ten unread messages.

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

The rest of the texts are mostly them arguing about a clip on tiktok and asking Azzi if it means that she and Paige are coming out.

She tilts the phone to let Paige read the messages.

“What the fuck? Ice! Isuneh!” Paige gets out of bed, suddenly very awake and heads toward the dining area, Azzi following close behind.

A bunch of the girls are gathered at the dining area, some eating and some clearly waiting out their hangovers.

“Good morning, Paige and Azzi! I brought breakfast.” Ice says, her voice sounding falsely positive.

“What happened last night?” Paige questions, taking the last available seat next to Ice and pulling Azzi to sit on her lap.

Ice winces and slides her phone over. “Before y’all get too mad, it’s been wiped from TikTok and not that many people saw it.”

The video is only a few seconds long, a grainy snippet from Ice’s livestream from the night before. The camera pans along the bar, showing Jana, then Caroline deep in conversation with Azzi who is wrapped up in Paige’s embrace. They watch as Paige’s hands roam from low on Azzi’s hips, up toward her back as she turns toward Paige with a hand on her face. And then the camera is jerking and the frame fills with Ice’s shocked expression.

“Bro, you need to warn us when you’re on live. That could’ve been so much worse.” If Ice had kept her camera on them for even a second more, it would have been much worse.

“I’m sorry, but I did! It’s not my fault you can’t keep your grabby hands off!”

“You know I can’t help it. Did you see her last night?”

Even now, Paige’s arms are wrapped around Azzi’s waist, and her chin is tucked over her shoulder as they look down at Ice’s phone.

Ice rolls her eyes as Azzi smiles, pleased at the comment.

Suddenly, the smile drops as Azzi looks sharply at Ice. “No more lives. You’re banned.”

“What?! That’s not fair!” Ice looks pleadingly at Paige, always the more lenient of the pair.

“Let’s just chill on the lives for a bit, aight? At least until this blows over.”

Everyone agrees, and after Ice apologizes one more time, Paige and Azzi take their breakfast back to Azzi’s room so they can get some more sleep.

Paige only lasts three days before she lets Ice and KK back on live.

//

It’s nearing 11:30 PM when Paige tells Ice and KK that she’s heading out.

“Girl, boo.” KK shoots her a thumbs down. “I thought we were gonna play some more Fortnite.”

“Nah, I’m tired dude. Supervising y’all on live took a lot out of me.” Paige smirks as KK rolls her eyes and Ice, the main instigator in most of their slip ups, muffles her laughter.

Paige leaves them to their own devices, slipping out of the apartment. She doesn’t tell them the real reason she’s leaving early, that Azzi had made it clear that if Paige showed up at her door past midnight, they would both be sleeping alone that night. The girl takes her sleep seriously.

She can imagine how much shit she would get from the girls if they knew how she refused to even consider spending a single night away from Azzi, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be near Azzi, always.

Paige lets herself into Azzi’s apartment, which is dark and quiet, with all its occupants asleep or on the way. She heads into the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the brush she keeps there, and gets ready for bed.

When she finally makes her way to Azzi’s room, she’s surprised to see light still shining from beneath the crack of the door. She eases the door open, as quiet as she can. She isn’t surprised to find Azzi asleep, with a book in her lap and her glasses falling off her face.

Paige doesn’t try to stop the grin that spreads across her face at the sight. She moves closer, putting the book on the bedside table and carefully sliding Azzi’s glasses off her face. Then, she turns off the light, flooding the room with darkness.

“Mm,” Azzi hums as Paige slips under the covers next to her.

Paige shushes her, trying to ease her back into sleep as she pulls Azzi’s head to rest on her chest.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Azzi murmurs something else into Paige’s neck, clearly more awake now.

“Watch out for my boyfriend.”

Paige has already closed her eyes, but they shoot open when she registers what Azzi has said.

“Huh?”

Azzi smiles lazily, stretching her body until she’s pressed head to toe against Paige’s.

“Y’know since I apparently have a boyfriend now, he probably wouldn’t like finding me in bed with someone else.” Their legs tangle together beneath the sheets.

Azzi’s words finally register, and Paige groans in understanding.

“What the hell? How’d you find out already?”

It couldn’t have been an hour since the moment where Paige had had a too visible reaction to KK reading a fan’s comment claiming Azzi had a boyfriend and that she was with him at that time. She hadn’t been able to stop her growing smile, and before she even realized it, she was scratching awkwardly at the bridge of her nose, trying to distract from her reaction and Ice and KK’s muffled laughter.

“Ice texted me, but I’m sure it’s all over Tiktok already.”

Azzi shifts again, until she’s seated astride Paige’s hips, hands splayed across the hard, flat plane of Paige’s abdomen. Paige inhales sharply as the other girl begins a slow glide in her lap, hands immediately find their place among familiar curves.

With a sure grip, Paige guides Azzi into a heavy grind, pulling their bodies together until they are both panting. Azzi dips her head to give Paige a searing kiss, tasting mint and something distinctly Paige.

When they part, Paige snarkily says, “What would your man say about you kissing someone else like that?” But the effect is slightly lessened by how breathless she is.

Azzi reaches down to tug her shirt over her head before leaning down again. She whispers, “Stop talking,” against Paige’s lips. Paige does.

//

When Azzi texts that she’s on her way over to the hotel, Paige drops Drew off with Ice and heads to the market next door. By the time she’s done, Azzi’s dad has dropped her off at the front.

It’s been just over a week since Paige has seen her, but Azzi is always a sight for sore eyes. She looks smaller than usual with the big brace over her knee, and when Paige hugs her hello, she holds on just a little longer than what might be considered casual, pressing her face to her favorite spot where Azzi’s neck meets her shoulder and sneaking a kiss there.

“I missed you,” Azzi breathes into her shoulder.

They text almost constantly, and are on FaceTime whenever they’re free, but it’s not the same as being together. It takes Paige back to the years before UConn, before she knew what it really meant that she would sometimes miss Azzi so much it felt like a wound.

She squeezes Azzi around her waist one more time before pulling back and leading her up to the room. She swipes the key to unlock the door and holds it open so Azzi can limp through in front of her.

Ice has taken Drew to bother some of the other girls, so they can have some much appreciated time alone.

Paige has barely shut the door behind her when Azzi is crowding her up against it, throwing her arms around her shoulders as her crutches clatter to the floor. Paige catches her around the waist, dropping her shopping bag on the floor, and lets Azzi kiss the hell out of her.

“You really missed me, huh?” Paige rasps as Azzi moves her lips down the line of her jaw, her neck. Her hands reach down to palm Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer and squeezing.

She knows something is wrong when Azzi pulls back, releasing a choked gasp. Her head ducks down to stare at her knee, throbbing at the sudden movement. When she looks up at Paige again, her eyes are wet.

“I can’t even kiss you without hurting myself.” Azzi lets out a bitter laugh.

Paige remembers the back and forth of emotions that came with such a big injury. How one moment it could be like nothing had happened, but then something would remind you and the world would feel like it was crashing down on you.

She pulls Azzi into the room, helping her to take a seat at the end of one of the beds before going back to the door to pick up her bag.

Paige comes back to kneel in front of Azzi handing her the bag with an uncharacteristically shy look on her face. Azzi pulls out an only slightly crushed bouquet, two family sized bags of her favorite chips, and a stuffed plushie.

Azzi stares at the gifts for a second. She shouldn’t be surprised at Paige’s thoughtfulness, not when she’s been this way for as long as they’ve known each other.

But she loves how Paige can still surprise her after this many years. She just loves her.

So she places the gifts gently to the side, cups Paige’s face between her hands, kisses her softly, and tells her just that.

💗 I love you, Pookie. 💗 9:13

😡🙄 9:14

love you too 9:15

[kaeyeahsworld]

A Tatted Sin.

Toji Fushiguro X Reader

Summary: You got yourself a womb tattoo to surprise Toji. He loved it. A bit too much.

(18+)

Tags: Smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, female reader, toji has a big dick lol, soft toji, praise kink, dirty talking, face riding and creampie

Cross posted on AO3

MDNI and do not interact if uncomfortable

To state that Toji was horny was an understatement.

Here he was, you sprawled out underneath him, your riotous laughter echoing about in the room, in the middle of a pillow fight you had bugged him into when he caught a glance of it.

A delicate little inked intricacy peaking out right below your curvy navel and Toji’s was about to lose his marbles. How had he never noticed it before and maybe it was time he got rid of all your high-waisted jeans. “When did you get this one love?” he turned to look at you, his expression darkening. You didn’t quite understand him at first but right before the embarrassment could sink in, he pinned you down one hand on your wrists and his other one on your tattoo, warm and big, rough against your soft skin.

“I was…going to tell you about it Toji-” “Yeah?” Toji nuzzled his knee closer to your core and his mouth latching onto your pulse point on your neck “Answer the question bambina, when did you get it done.” he whispered nipping about the sensitive area. “A week ago..mmph-!” a pitiful mewl leaving your lips the moment he crashes his lips onto yours, grabbing you the by waist and pulling you hard and closer than ever. Your luscious fucking scent was all over Toji and if he could just bottle it up or make it settle in his bones he would.

“Hiding that precious little thing from me for a week now love? You could have asked nicely and I would kissed it better for you the day itself” He wasn’t angry about you getting tatted, if anything he loved it more than anything. His innocent girl, whose eyes welled up even if she accidentally touched something hot went through all that pain, of course, he had to reward you, In his own way that is.

Ripping away your flimsy shirt, he immediately latched his lips onto your perky little mounds, leaving half-mooned crescents all over one and twisting and deliciously torturing the other with his fingers. Your head was fuzzy, feeling Toji all over you and his mouth leaving a trail of fire everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Those moans leaving your mouth were Toji’s drug and his carnal touches, with his hands splayed all over the tattoo had you gasping “Toji-Please-”, you can hear a hard tear as he ripped off your shorts, his pupils almost blown at the site in front of him.

Lips bruised a beautiful red, a sinful tattoo and a cunt wetter than a waterfall you were Toji’s salvation. He got around to kissing your still-fresh tattoo, licking it and massaging around with his tongue. Your navel had always been a pleasure spot for you but with the added pain from the tattoo and Toji’s ministrations, it was ecstacy. If you had known it would get Toji so riled up maybe you would have got it done sooner even. “Did it hurt baby? Needle all over, ink on your precious little womb” he asked while dipping his tongue in and out of your belly button. “It did-hurt’…so much Toji, but I wanted to surprise you-” Toji’s cock ached so much, rubbing himself when he could over your thighs, precum staining his boxers. He could just take you right now but he was enjoying the tease.

“Stop teasing …please..baby…ahmphh-” he was nipping at your hip bones, your inner thighs, kissing and licking anywhere but where you were aching the most at this moment. “Beg for it, love. Tell me what do you want me to do to you.” he rid himself of his office shirt and pants and the view in front was heaven. Toji in all his muscular glory, scars all over his chest and stomach and goosebumps all over his skin and perked-up brown nipples. “Do you want me to kiss you for being a good little girl and sitting through the pain? or put my cock in your cunt and make both of us see how far up to the tattoo it reaches? Huh?”

Could he get any dirtier and hotter than this?

You grabbed him by his face and kissed his plump lips slowly, pulling and swirling over his tongue “Kiss me down there Toji…it..aches” “Come on baby you can do better than that, spell it out” “My clit Toji..please-” before you could finish, Toji’s wet tongue was on your pulsating nub, sucking and lapping up your juices like a man damn possessed. With your grip on his dark locks and your knees buckling, you could feel the tension building up in your tummy, ever more with his tongue plunging in and out your seeping hole and his nose pressing into your clit, with you riding his face, it was all too much. “I am gonna cum baby…keep going…right there” But what you didn’t expect was Toji to pull out right before you could ride out your high, and kiss you, making you taste your own arousal and a mix of his saliva. “You will only be cumming with me inside you of today”

“What do you mean…aghhh..Toji slow down.” You gasped as he was sinking into you, his ridiculous length kissing your core in the most delicious way, your gummy walls swallowing him. “Gosh baby, look at this pussy, starving for me, taking me so well…uggh godd” Toji’s guttural moans only made you clench around him even more, “such a dirty little minx you are huh? Look what you have reduced me to baby, I don’t think I can ever get enough of this tight cunt—fuck!” your hips and back arching into him and your tits brushing and rubbing right against his hard pecs, adding to the pleasure. His hips were rutting into you wildly and yours were setting their own sensuous rhythm to match his, and the wet warmth had started to build up again, your thighs quivering and mouth spilling out moans and calling out Toji’s name like it was a prayer. “You are doing so well for me love, look at me” he grabbed your chin and while looking at your beautiful tear stained eyes he confessed “I love you so much, you know that right? I am all yours as long as you will have me.” “Tojiii….that’s so unfair..I am gonna cum—, it feels so wet down there-” “I know baby, I know…ughh..come on make a mess for me girl, cum all over my cock baby, take what yours” and you did, you came right along with Toji so hard, a wet mess soaking the sheets all over and clutching onto Toji’s broad shoulders for dear life, kissing his lips with so much fervor “I love you so much Toji, love you-will never let you go”

The next tattoo was definitely going to be a lower back one.

A/N: First time writing smut, I couldn't sit through its editing because I couldn't stop laughing and cringing PLS WTF IS THIS

lemme know how you like it, I tried my best for this one (read some smuts from a whole new perspective just to write one out) I wanna get used to writing smut a little bit more just because I decided to have some in KMIL but yeah.

use protection always.

Header tag and credit to wonderful @kiochisato her headers are aesthetic af!

Take care sweets.

[pinkishpearls]

hi, i love your fics theyre amazing ! please can you do reader x childhood bsf! jude where jude catches her touching herself to him

y o u

a jude bellingham fic

dom!jude x sub!reader (for once, never again.) | masturbation | fingering | missionary | degradation

that fucking instagram post.

that innocent photo slide never meant to make you so pent up, but the wetness in-between your legs was getting unbearable.

he’s your bestfriend, you shouldn’t be thinking about him like this!

the light in the photos that accentuated all the features of his face that had made your hands snake down your panties. your freshly done nails grope at the hem of them, taking them off in one needy swipe.

fuck it.

your fingers run delicately in-between your folds, making you squirm as pleasure already flooded your body. “mm- fuck.” you groan, your fingers dipping deeper and deeper. the tip of your fingers get engulfed by your pussy, now vigorously grazing your clit.

“yes- mm- jude!”

fresh out the shower, his boxers wrap tightly around his abdomen. his dark blue towel wraps around his waist, accentuating his hips and the abs that lay above them. his skin was glistening, the sunset painted across the sky that seeped through the windows making him look ever so beautiful. he was a view you wish you’d gotten to encounter, but you were too busy touching your throbbing, aching core; you wished your hands would morph into him, any body part and you would be as happy as a child receiving sweets.

with the slick sounds of your fingers, you hadn’t realise how loud you had gotten, but jude had. with every step he took to get to the guest room, he’d walked past yours, meaning he had caught onto the lewd moans escaping your lips. “mm- oh fuck- jude! please! i- i jude!” your incoherent sobs made his dick twitch, his erection springs out from underneath his navy blue towel. his jaw fell agape, almost feeling dumb after being oblivious for so long, he didn’t know he had such an affect on you. you both knew you found each other good looking, but with your fingers pushing deeper and deeper into your core, he knew you felt more than that.

lucky for him, you kept the door unlocked, making a million thoughts run through his head. did you leave it unlocked for him? did you forget? or did you want him to hear you fuck your fingers into you? hesitant, he pushed the door carefully ajar, now having a great view of what you were doing. it was just like how he imagined, your fingers centimetres up your pussy, moaning and practically drooling over pretending they were jude’s cock. “princess?” he smirked and you jolted up, immediately pulling out your fingers, your wetness seeping down your skin. “your so wet, huh?” he coyly inquired, making his way to his bed as he flipped the sheets, making you both get engulfed into the warm, silk fabric. “mmm- so soft, just know your getting fucked in these.” he giggled to himself, and you stared in shock at how calm he was. you still felt like you had to apologise, though.

“jude- i-i’m sorry! that was gross and if there’s anything you want me to do for you to make you feel better i’m h-here i’m just so-“

“anything?”

“anything.” you breathe out.

“let me fuck you, please?”

and in one swift motion, his boxers were across the room and his fingers were inside of you. you craved for his touch, and he did too, so he delved his fingers deeper, making your hands fly to his arms in pleasure, gripping them for support although you felt like you were drowning into the silk covers. “your a slut, you know. touching yourself to me. what were you even touching yourself to?” he degraded, making you even wetter and jude noticed; a smirk emerged on his lips. “mmm- you.” you slurred out, your pussy throbbing and clenching around his fingers. “fuck! ‘m gonna cum- jude!” you warn as your pussy quaked.

“not yet, princess.”

the mattress plunged down as he shifted on-top of you. the view was mesmerising, and you could’ve had a mini orgasm just from the sight of him. “jude, i need you.” you breathe, your legs shaking and spread wide open, your pussy was practically dripping; you felt empty without jude, and you needed him. “jude- please!” you cry out, huffing as you see jude’s big, sheepish grin plaster his face. “alright- alright.” he gave in, smirking as placed himself in between your folds. “are you sure, we’ve been friends for ages and i know i just fingered you and all but i don’t-“

“just fuck me jude!”

you both cry out as he finally fills you up to the brim, his dick twitching at the sudden, tight pleasure. “fuck- so tight.” he cooed, placing a harsh kiss on your neck. it was euphoric, jude being a sensation you were craving for so much, but you thought you’d never get. “mmm- fuck! faster! faster!” jude followed your orders, accelerating in speed so his dick vigorously hit your g-spot. “oh my- gosh!” jude whimpers, dipping his nose into the crook of your neck.

“i love the way you look when i’m inside of you.”

his seductive words sent you over an edge, and you let go all over jude, coating his twitching cock in your juices. with the intensity of his thrusts, jude increased his speed, making the mattress creak even louder. as if it were possible he tightened his grip on your hip even more, and you grabbed his bicep with all the strength you had left, clawing at his skin. you wrapped your legs around his waist, preventing him from pulling out. he let go of your hip, not even seconds passed that you were cumming, letting out a loud scream of jude’s name. any neighbor listening would believe you were being murdered by him. your head continuously got rammed into the pillow, making your eyes roll back and mouth fall agape. your face must’ve sent jude over the edge, too, as for in seconds his orgasm washed over him. “oh baby…fuck…oh my!” jude whined, his hips jittering suddenly as his orgasm washed over him. with one last thrust you felt him cum inside of you and he ended up hiding his head in your neck to catch his breath. you felt the hot liquid drip from your hole onto the bed, possibly leaving a stain that you would have to take care of. either way, cleaning was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

“you are…crazy.”

AN: i’m afraid i cant do dom jude to save my life

[chaewritesjjk]

Obsessive Bestfriend; Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader drabble

wc: 779 (not edited)

Synopsis: You get rejected by your crush, but lucky for you, your best friend is there to help you get over him. WARNINGS: MDNI! 18+ (please), somnophillia, dub-con, foul language, name-calling, fem! reader, dirty talk, hand-jobs, reader is eaten out, and a lot of very NSFW things!!!!!

You just got rejected from your first-ever 'real' crush.

You are crushed. He was the first actual guy you liked. And on top of that, he was one of the nicest friends you ever had. And you just ruined all that just by asking a simple question. Yes, you had a physical and emotional attraction to different guys before- but this one was different, yeah it's a cliche - I know. Now you are in your best friend Gojo Satoru's room crying your pretty little eyes out before him.

"ToruUuuU.. Sniff am I not girlfriend material or something?! Sniff " You ask, he just sighs and looks at you,

"You know, there are billions of other guys that are nicer, and smarter than h-"

"NO! I wanted him! And when and where am I supposed to find a better guy than that?!" You exclaim as you cut him off, you look up at him to find an annoyed expression on his face,

"You know, I could've had a girl over today but I canceled just to hear you talk about some dumb boy, just get over it." He says as he rolls his eyes at you.

You stare up at him and here come the waterworks again - you start sobbing uncontrollably, making him feel bad.

"Look, I'm sorry, but maybe it's a sign that it wouldn't have worked out anyway? Who needs a boyfriend when you have me right?" He looks at you waiting for an answer,

But to no avail, you keep on crying. He sighs again and pulls you in for a deep embrace.

He can't help but smile as you cry. Is it bad that he knew this would happen? He predicted all of this. You get rejected, and you come crying to him. It's always him. He is all you have. You need him.

He strokes your hair and begins comforting you with his words, "...there there, I'm always here for you. You don't need to worry..." Then you slowly start to drift off into a deep sleep.

-

"ah.. hnghhh... " What? Why were you making these noises? You groggily open your swollen eyes. You are then met with a sudden wave of pleasure from your pussy. With widened eyes, you look down and see none other than your best friend peering back up at you; between your legs, chin glistening from your juices, and smiling.

You gasp and try to close your legs only to be deflected by Satoru's hands holding them down. He goes back down and continues eating at your cunt hungrily - sucking on your clit and lapping up the juices you secrete.

"To-toru! What are you doing?" You panic and try to squirm away from his touch. He smacks your thigh - "M'only trying to help you get over your rejection, s'just be a good girl for me and take it." He continues to aggressively eat you out, and you can't help but let out loud moans. You feel a familiar feeling rushing to your stomach as he starts to tongue fuck you.

"To-toru- m'gonna cum!" You cry out as you arch your back, you are now gripping his hair to angle him to get more friction of his tongue and your bare pussy. As you get closer and closer to your climax, You feel fingers start to insert into your leaky hole; this sends you over the edge. You cum on his fingers right away - a whiney wet whimper leaving your mouth.

"He is s'dumb for not wanting you - look at you. He's missin out." He coos at you kissing your cheek. Your eyes hooded and droopy, legs open; still in the position he was eating you out in, your cunt glistening and the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing.

"You needed this, it was the only way to get over him, sweetheart. N'now, he wouldn't want a dirty slut like you would he?" He pulls you in his arms and starts stroking your hair,

"You don't need anyone else besides me. M'the only one always here for you aren't I?" he says looking down at you, you look up at him meekly and start to realize - he's right.

He's always been there for you - no matter the weather or time. You really don't need anyone else besides him. And if you lost him... you would probably crumble. He knows all your deepest darkest secrets, and you know his - well, most of them. So you nod at his question and snuggle into his chest starting to dose off. Satoru gives out a smile, his breath shuddering as he feels nothing but a dark wish being fulfilled - you're his, and you know it.

a/n: my first fic 😭 it's just a short n' cute fic that I completed in like 2 days. I have so many drafts and ideas but I didn't know what I wanted to post so send me more ideas! thanks for reading!!!

[dex0s]

💋MY DEAD HEART • ZOMBIESukuna X Gn reader WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT , NON-con/rape, main character death, cannibalism, humiliation, bad ending, public?, gore, animals, DARK CONTENT, age-gap, small plot/smut, violence mention, lazy ending, not proof read, MDNI 18+

A/N—hello.. how have u been.. that’s good. Bye! *disappears for 4 months*

You had studying subject 01 King of Zombies or what he calls himself Sukuna with some other scientists and as you can imagine it not a pretty sight to see. Like the normal things you would think of a zombie is he will human or animal flesh but yet he can be picky with it or he can do something disturbing to the flesh.

Flashback

You were walk to subject 01/ Sukuna test area. It was a huge metal door about 8ft tall with electrified bar along side with talismans all over.

“Good morning Mx.name” one of the security welcoming you, “you doing a check up on subject 01 today?” Finished the guard.

“Yes you are right. I have to check out what that 01 did with our experiment…” walking towards the door, one of the guards scanned his badge unlocking the door to the lab room. Yet before you could take your first step the other guard turned to you a said, “ I would be care in there even if there’s another door… the night guards told me that they heard some freaky shit coming inside.”

“Well thanks for the warning” you finished, walking in the lab the door closed behind you. Looking at the window in front of you the fake forest seems empty but you know better. Getting closer you can see a deer and when examining closer you can finally see what that disgusting creature did… it fucked the deer to death.

Cum spilling out of it hole, the poor hole was stretched on the unimaginable size, you can also see bites taken revealing the flesh underneath. Writing down this information not knowing the something so sneaking up on you.

*boom*

Quick turning to the sound you can see subject 01 smiling at you and what you assume to be deer blood on his face and hands.

“Do you like my master piece doc?” Sukuna asked. Going back to you notes you continue writing. After a few seconds Sukuna started to get annoyed that you were responding, “you think you can just ignore me doc!? I know you can hear me! Don’t go thinking your better then me, I’m the king and you are the peasant—just wait until I get out of here, you are going to be my first victim!?”

End of Flashback

You still remember the way he spoke to you—hate and disgust. Yet that didn’t stop you from coming back to work. The pay was good and you can live your happy ever after.

Parking in your spot. You walk up to the building, once you give in the doors you see no one at the front desk. Looking a around seeing if you can find someone. You captures something you wouldn’t want to see in a million years.

Over the counter of the desk, there lay a woman with bite marks and a chuck of her head bitten off. “I- what the hell happened here?” You asked yourself. Going around the desk you check the body, yet before that the body started to shake violently. Moving away and hiding you behind the desk. Trying to stay quiet you can hear movement then sudden silence.

Hearing Growling on top of you, quick looking up you can see the “woman” looking down at you with a hungry look. Quickly getting up u run towards a door that requires your key card. Looking back the “woman” is running at you full force.

Scrimmaging through your lab coat you found it. Briskly you open the door and just how quickly it opened it quickly closed. Hearing the bangs behind you. U decided to move away before that thing breaks in. With red lights going off and on you can somewhat see that all the subjects doors are open. Due to that u started to walk quietly. Once you get to subjects 01 door their are body’s littering the floor.

Before u can get away you get slam to the ground. “Look who we have hear” you know that voice… that’s the same voice that said that you would be their first victim. Feeling your clothes getting ripped off u try to break out but you know that wouldn’t happen.

Before you can even start to think Sukuna slam his two cocks in your ass/pussy. Hollering and screaming you kick your feet. Grabbing your feet he saids “I told you that u would be the first and then I will move on to the next women/male/person. Enjoy this time while you can because after this your time will be over”. Moaning in pain you can feel Sukuna bit down on your neck.

Feeling that harsh bite you scream due to the agonizing pain. Not thinking straight you see him eating something. Skin. Your skin. With Sukuna still thrusting in you and the pain from your wound you can feel yourself about the black out.

Around you hearing of feet pattering u see subjects looking at you. Laughing at your pain, laughing at your tears, “look at that you have a little crowd laughing at you” Sukuna mocks you. Not able to hold your bladder is piss on his cock/stomach. “Ew did you just piss on me?!” Making sure the people around you can hear. The laughter starts to get louder and louder.

Crying is all you can do, you can’t yell for help because nobody cares, you can’t get out of Sukuna hold because your weak, feeling your end approaching. you called out forgiveness for your sins hoping that when you see the golden gate that you will be forgiven. Closing your eyes for the last time your ears pick up something…

“see you in hell bitch” was the last words Sukuna said before cumming his load in you.

[lcvclywon]

hurt people, hurt people.

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ You thought you and Heeseung would last forever, well it seemed so as your 3 year relationship was smooth sailing. But that all changed one night when he abruptly ended things between you two. Now it's been a year and you could successfully say you've healed from the breakup, but when you get a call from him the night before he leaves for uni, that statement might not be so set in stone.

now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 the grudge - olivia rodrigo

warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, fighting, toxic relationship, heavy heavy HEAVY angst, err no comfort soz i feel evil

genre ⭑.ᐟ angst

pairings: non-idol ex!heeseung x female reader

wc ᵎᵎ 1.21k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 this is me projecting lolz sorry

Oh for fucks sake. 

You let out a frustrated sigh seeing the caller ID that popped up on your phone. It had been 1 year since you and Heeseung had broken up and quite honestly you were doing great. You had finally healed from ending your 3 year long relationship, you were loving your life, meeting new people, you felt better. But that all came crumbling down when you saw that dreadful notification pop up on your screen.

In all honesty you really should’ve blocked his number, you had done so on every other social media platform, but for some reason you couldn’t really bring yourself to block his number. Whenever you try something simmered in the guts of your stomach stopping you. It was the same sensation you felt whenever you tried to throw away the last letter he had given you for your 3 year anniversary. You had tossed all the other letters, gifts, and sentiments out the second you ended things with him; but you could never bring yourself to throw out that last letter. Perhaps because that would mean Lee Heeseung would truly, permanently, and irrevocably be out of your life for good. But that’s what you wanted…wasn’t it?

Don’t pick up, a small voice in your head whispered. “Hello?”

“I thought you blocked my number” he replied, you could hear him laughing from his nose. Fuck you hated it, you hated it but you wanted to ingrave his laugh into your ribcage. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so absolutely hollow whenever you forced out a laugh on multiple cafe dates with numerous other men. 

“Well, I obviously didn’t” your voice was still shaky as you let out quivering exhales. Great YN, not even a full 5 minutes into the conversation and you already want to cry. “Why are you calling?” you manage to force out, tone still hesitant. 

“Um-” he started “It’s my last day today, I’m flying out to uni soon…”

You didn’t realise his departure had already arrived. “I know.”

“I just uh-” you could hear from the other end of the line how he cleared his throat, before continuing with a voice mirroring the apprehensiveness of your own “I wanted to apologise, one last time before I leave” 

“Oh…” you mumbled out

“I’m sorry for ending things like that” the moment he said that it all flashed back to you. That night you tried to lock away in the back of your mind suddenly unleashed itself from its cage. To describe your breakup in one word it would be: abrupt. 

“We should end things” Heeseung uttered, leaving you standing there notebooks in hand, mouth agape, and heart absolutely shattered. 

“What are you talking about” you managed to reply with, words choked out and shaking.

“I leave for university next year, I just-” he paused to look down before continuing “I don’t think we could ever be long distance, it’s too much for you and me. You’d still be in highschool and I’d be busy adjusting in uni, it just- I don’t think it’ll work. You were never even really attentive to me when we’re just a few mere minutes away from each other, how could we ever do that long distance?” 

Coward couldn’t even look you in the eyes before breaking your heart. 

“I was, really just an ass-” heeseung continued, snapping you back to the present “you didn’t deserve that and we both know it. I was just- really scared I think, of course that’s not an excuse…but yeah I’m sorry” 

“It’s okay…” it wasn’t 

A beat passes.

Now two. 

You remain in an awkward limbo of deciding between ending the call or continuing the conversation. All the words you had pent up for the past year were on the tip of your tongue just itching to be said, but some part of you just wouldn’t let them. 

“Do you-” he finally says between sniffles, oh great so he’s crying now “did you ever see a future with us?” 

Of course you did, hell you didn’t even expect him to end things and he has the audacity to ask this? What was his issue? “Kinda I guess” you mutter out, barely eligible 

“I did” A lie. That’s nothing but a lie. How could he even see a future with you when he walked out so easily? “I saw a future with us YN, I saw it and- I got scared to be honest. It was a future but it was built upon uncertainty, and I wasn’t ready for that. I shouldn’t have done that though.” 

“Heeseung it’s fi-” 

“Did you ever think about breaking no contact?” he interrupts “I did.”

“Heeseung.” his name is bitter as it leaves your tongue “Stop it. You’re being selfish.”

“Wh-what how am I being selfish” absolutely unbelievable. 

“You’re saying this the night before you leave to uni, the night before you change your phone number, the night before you fly off to a completely new country not giving me any chance to ever see you again. That’s selfish. You were selfish when you broke up with me and you’re being selfish now.” you’re fully crying at this point 

“YN I-” but you don’t let him finish that sentence 

“You know you really aren’t allowed to make my life a living hell for 6 months and then waltz back in like you did no damage-” you choke out between sobs, you’re not even sad now, it’s just pure unrivalled rage and disbelief “You’re not allowed to do that, it’s not fair. None of this was ever fair. How come you can tell me over and over again how I’m never doing enough and beg for me to be more attentive to you then leave and cut me off so easily?” 

The other end of the line remains silent.

“You’re not allowed to be the one to walk out, I wanted to be the one to do that. I was meant to be the one to cut things off, to leave, to walk out. I wanted to be the one to finish things, how could you do that?” you’re clutching onto your heart with a pain you could only remember experiencing once in your life: the night he walked out. 

“YN I’m sorry I really am, I don’t know why I even called you tonight,” he stuttered out before pausing to curse under his breath “I just, I couldn’t just leave without apologising.”

“So what, you wanted to hurt me one more time before leaving?” you spat back, words plagued with anger and remorse 

“I wanted to say that I loved you for fucks sake!” oh. 

You loved Heeseung too, you knew that the moment you laid eyes on him across the basketball court when he shot that three pointer. You knew the moment he flashed that toothy grin. You knew the moment he traced his fingers across your waist as you laid together in the quiet of the night. And you still knew you loved him when he spat out those words that changed your life forever. 

“Bye Heeseung, I really can’t fucking do this right now” 

“I love you YN, I don’t think I ever stopped.” 

You don’t return that sentiment before ending the call

perm taglist (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor @dimplewonie @cholexc @i2ycat @bunnbam @tobiosbbyghorl @jlheon