#but still the day will come i just know it

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞

✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,

✧ wc: 8,271

“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,” 

Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines. 

And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk. 

Just as they were now. 

“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,” 

“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,” 

Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers. 

And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost. 

He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice. 

“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded. 

“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink. 

“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“ 

“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath. 

One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar. 

He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,” 

You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box,  “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does. 

“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,” 

A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,” 

He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?” 

“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets. 

“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out. 

And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did. 

No matter how hard you try.

“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,” 

And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it. 

“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips. 

“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“ 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects you. 

You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.

“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?” 

“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit. 

“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves. 

“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?” 

“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?” 

And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation. 

“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“ 

He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“ 

“You asked me to hang out—“ 

“And we kissed—“ 

“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,” 

“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more. 

“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach. 

“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“ 

“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“ 

“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle. 

“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“ 

“It doesn’t have to be,” 

“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home,  “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks. 

“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist. 

Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh. 

You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart. 

“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“ 

“Sweetheart-“ and you snap. 

“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,” 

“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch. 

Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say. 

“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,” 

“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“ 

“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?” 

“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go. 

“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t). 

“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now. 

“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?” 

“You’re impossible—“ 

“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,” 

You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?” 

“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“ 

“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Why weren’t you?” 

And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date. 

“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“ 

And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”

“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“ 

“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”

Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him. 

His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse. 

“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“ 

“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?” 

“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“ 

And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles. 

“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.

And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“ 

“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,” 

And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?” 

Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,” 

“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door. 

And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment. 

“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door. 

“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“ 

“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,” 

“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand. 

“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips. 

“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,” 

“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss. 

You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?” 

“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown. 

“I know I’ve made mistakes—“ 

You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,” 

He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“ 

You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,” 

“I—“ 

“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,” 

Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“ 

“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,” 

You stare at him, “What do you mean?” 

He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,” 

“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,” 

“Why?”

“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“  

“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat. 

He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“ 

“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,” 

“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin. 

“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” 

“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him. 

And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?” 

“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you. 

Your lips curl, “Good boy.” 

“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,” 

You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand. 

“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,” 

“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more. 

“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it  — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself. 

And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“ 

“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue. 

“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,” 

“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length. 

“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you. 

And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off. 

Fuck. 

With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips. 

“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps. 

You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean. 

“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“ 

“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,” 

The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige. 

His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders. 

“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?” 

He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,” 

“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,” 

“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?” 

And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“ 

“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,” 

“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs. 

“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily. 

Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place. 

“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,” 

“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly. 

You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices. 

“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?” 

“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh. 

“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,” 

“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“ 

He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t. 

“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper. 

A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then, 

“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?” 

“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“ 

He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“ 

“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart. 

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you. 

“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets. 

And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?” 

He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,” 

His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” 

And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door. 

Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?” 

Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night. 

“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you. 

“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling. 

“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.  

Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on. 

He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin. 

You had turned him down last night when he asked, 

“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,” 

“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again. 

And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?

He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?” 

Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“ 

“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,” 

Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“ 

“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body. 

A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.” 

And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes,  “who was it?” 

He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,” 

“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?” 

“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?” 

“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.” 

✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)

✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot

[lxnarphase]

the way of the househusband ๋࣭ ⭑

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[hedgehog-moss]

I volunteered to help the florist with her Mother's Day deliveries today, it was fun! My favourite parts of the experience:

early this morning I delivered flowers to women who were busy with morning farm chores, usually out in the barn; some had forgotten it was Mother's Day and were pleasantly surprised to see me show up holding a bunch of flowers above my head (so it wouldn't get eaten by barn animals on the way)

speaking of: one woman let a cow smell the flowers, then said "they're probably treated with chemicals—better not have a taste" with an apologetic look (at her cow)

a little boy opened the door at one point and I said, flowers for your mum! and he called her and while waiting for her to come downstairs, he said, "I learnt a Mother's Day poem at school", so I said, let's hear it! And apparently he hadn't expected that, and he lit up upon realising he would get higher returns on his poem investment than expected. He thought he'd recited it once and it was over but here was a fresh new audience!

a woman whom I found at the back of her garden hanging out with ducks deplored the fact that she didn't have a coin in her pocket for a tip, then said "Do you want to see my baby pigeons?" Yes of course I want to see your baby pigeons. That's a good tip

I delivered a bouquet to someone and a woman next door, who was in her garden, turned to the open window of her house and said, "[Neighbour's name] got flowers! For MOTHER'S DAY."

I later had to return to that street after a last-minute order was placed to this woman's address. Whomever she was talking to inside the house got the message loud and clear :)

at one point I entered a barn that seemed empty (except for cows), said "Is anyone here?" and a goat SPRUNG UP out of nowhere and poked me with her hoof and gave me a heart attack

I returned to the shop and the florist let me pick a couple of plants as thanks, and we had the usual conversation—"Would this cheerful yellow plant thrive in my house?" "No. Your house is under 10°C. Try this one instead." Me: "This one isn't yellow :( It's more austere" Her: "So is your house" (She entered my non-heated kitchen in December once, and ever since I've been trying to convince her that it's not always like that) (just six months per year)

as I sat in the shop waiting for more bouquets to deliver, a man came in to buy roses and the florist started wrapping a ribbon around the bunch and the man asked, could you put a ribbon around each rose? I said aw they're for several mums? :) And he said yeah—that he was going to visit his mum at the retirement home and he wanted to get something "for all her friends too, why not!" It made everyone smile

admiring the florist's skill as she quickly put together a bouquet for a new order, I said something like "at least AI won't steal your job" and she said "with quantum computing, you don't know... not sure what it is but I read an article and it sounded scary." I said, I heard it's still impractical because the quantum computer particles need to be kept in very cold environments, like close to absolute zero, and she said "Quantum plants would thrive in your house."

Florist: "I'll accompany you for this delivery because the person who filled the form gave a 'turn left after the third mossy rock'-type of address"

I was invited at her house for lunch, and I asked warily "Does your husband still have swans?" She said "No, we only kept the geese. We have just 3. They're evil too but not as bad as the swans"

one of my favourite interactions was when I delivered flowers in a hamlet that could fit in my pocket, and a young girl who came to the door asked me in what village I lived, and I said, it's not a village, just a lone house in the woods, and she sighed "I wish I could live away from civilisation." I looked around us. Asked, how many people live in this village? She said, "Sixty." I said, "That's too many?" She said, "Yeah."

Final stats for today: I was offered a coffee 4 times, Mother's Day chocolates 2 times, and 1 meeting with baby pigeons; was startled by 1 goat and terrorised by 3 geese; petted 2 windowsill cats, and was asked if Pampérigouste was currently in her pasture 4 times.

[screampied]

Hello my love🩵 I know you’ve had a similar request to this before but I just love the way you write him so can we get soft dom choso who an obnoxiously big dick😵‍💫 like reader is trying to act like she can take it but he just knows she can’t so he just stays buried inside them and rubs their clit until she cums and is finally comfortable enough for him to move

trying to take big dick choso ★

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom choso, size kink, praise, whiny choso, cowgirl.

“just lie back baby,” you whisper against the shuck of his ear, gawking lovingly as his pretty long lashes flutter from your words alone. choso’s heart flutters dramatically by default, you’re hovering over his leaky tip and he can’t help but exhale out a low sigh of what’s to come. he’s all pent up and frazzled—he’s had a long day with dealing with irksome enemies and you told him you’d help relieve some of his stress. “wanna ride you.”

“o- okay,” he swallows, gently bringing his perspiring-coated hands towards your waist. choso’s touch was always so delicate, he stares at you all doe-eyed like and tries hard to suppress his moans once you finally hover over his top. you inhale, glancing down at his wide, mushroom tip that was leaking with various amounts of viscous candied pre. “you’re so pretty.”

his words of affection only make you pulse more between your thighs as you prepare to take him. inch by inch, once his tip bedaubs near your soddened entrance in such a sloppy fashion, you whine. choso’s overwhelmed with how pretty you look like this — in such a position, straddling him. he bites his lip as you’re barreling his length. with a brief jerk forward, he’s slowly easing his way into your folds before your jaw gradually swings itself open it utter surprise. then it hits you,

he’s fucking big.

almost right away, you feel the thick impact of choso’s stupendous girth,

you’re barely even moving but you’re still trying to take him fully. he hears the sudden change of patterns from your breath — they’re all trembly and erratic. with a cute look of worry, he nips a few kisses near your collarbone. “baby,” he whimpers, albeit it’s in the more form of a question. the softness of his fingertips brush against your skin as he feels you struggle to take him. “h-how is it? ‘s it okay? should i hold your hips?”

“i’m okay, ‘cho,” you huff out, almost positive at this rate you were gonna cum. you look down, feeling the pressure inside of you weaken only to then arise. as you grind your hips forward, you bite your lip with your head slightly throwing itself back. “f-fuuuck,” you’d croak out, slumping your limp arms around his broad shoulders. choso awkwardly holds onto you tightly, moaning himself from the way your gummy walls try to swallow him whole. “y- yeah, jus’ hold me okay? just like that, baby.”

“so warm inside,” he purrs, a sheepish smile tugging against his lips as he slouches back. you had him whipped—he needed you in such a carnal way that the tips of his ears burn a feverish hot. he’s feeling all of you all at once, your insides mashing against his, it was pure bliss. so warm, your gloopy walls itself were seductive—loose and clamping down on him, wringing against him voluntarily. “you can take it baby, s-so good, fuckkk.”

you could barely bare around him, the plump head of his cock continues to squeeze around you before you stay still, dragging your hands toward between your thighs.

choso watches with hazy eyes, your own fingers ghosting against your clit. “is it okay if i touch myself, choso?”

“you don’t have to ask,” he whines, his eyes softening as he presses a wet kiss against your chin. for a few seconds, you rub your fingers against your clit before he’s fully in. you moan, feeling his cock just sit still inside of you. choso swallows the lump residing in his throat before he holds onto your right hip with one hand. “even if you’re not riding me, you still look so b-beautiful.”

it makes his mouth water, you’re squeezing around him so tight, his breath is coming out in short pants as he’s just stuffing you full of his inches. choso’s big, you and him both knew that.

the raw stretch makes your mouth open ajar, you try to shift your hips forward but he’s just so big.

choso’s swollen sack sticks against your skin like glue. the lower undersides of his thighs burn, a scorching temperature of heat whilst you sit on him before he lies back. ripped abs of his curl and clench underneath his white tee as he suddenly starts to feel his own head theon back. with a low sigh, choso covers a hand over his face that was starting to brighten a cute tint of embarrassment.

“f- fuuuck,” and with that, you collapse right into your boyfriend. he catches you, soft inky pupils of his take in your beauty as you’re stuffed full of him. his cock remains still as a statue before you whimper once you feel his own fingers brush against your clit. “k- keep doin’ that baby, please. ‘m gonna cum.”

“i love your voice so m- much,” choso whines, feeling himself get sensitive himself from the hot warmth your clingy walls provide. it’s barely any friction happening but still — with his size, you’re basically getting fucked stupid. just without the delicious movement to back it up. choso starts to nibble on your neck, continuing to rub against your sweet drooling cunt. “praise me some more, please, t- talk to me, wanna make you cum.”

his voice— it was also sweet and shaky, you lift your head up to give him a quick kiss before moaning, “you make me feel so good, baby. keep rubbing me there, o- okay? jus’ like that,” and you press a kiss against the left temple of his cheek.

choso’s heart was about to explode— he was so in love, figuratively melting with his twitching shaft exploring your love cave.

“mmhn, cum for me. ‘s okay, make a mess so i can clean you right up princess.” he mutters back, hearing a familiar ring screech through his ears.

the pressure continues to alleviate, your entire body feels misty, everything’s a blur.

as choso’s thick fingers consistently strum against your sopping cunt, he’s still buried into your tightening walls before you finally let go. it’s as if everything’s going in slow motion.

your lips part and you gasp—a devoted, obscene orgasm finally rips out of your throat before your thighs shake over him.

skin to skin, body to body, he feels like you’re just stuck against him like a leech—clinging onto him like velcro, never ever letting go. that was perfect for choso because he didn’t want you to ever go anyway. you’re so pretty once you release though, eyelashes compressing together, jaw hung open, brows furrowing into a disbelieving curve—oh, you were in heaven.

despite how you weren’t able to ride him how you originally wanted— you were still a bit saddened by it, embarrassed.

choso notices the cute pout forming against your spit soaked lips before he cups your face. heaving heavily, he leans in to kiss your nose, a humming “mwah,” comes from him and your rapidly beating heart suddenly swoons. “i love you.”

“i- i love you too,” you puff out a single breath of fresh air, still feeling your thighs quaver from your recent teeth-shattering climax. as his dick was still tucked inside of your gripping walls, you mimic his gesture, kissing the tip of his nose. “you’re such a good boy ‘cho, did so good.”

“heh, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep praising me like that, baby.” he tries to joke— yet once he feels you shift your hips a little to move, he’s suddenly hard again. “o-oh fuck.”

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ my dawg - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer reader

✿ lando norris is down bad for his girlfriend and he has no shame about it

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is kinda pt 2 to walk em like a dog

🝮

yn

liked by oscarpiastri and 1,028,967 others

yn took my dawg out today

landonorris didn’t expect you to become a gymnast in the middle of dinner 😔

⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA

landonorris spit on me your so hot

⤷ yn kinky boy

georgerussell63 Perioddd 💅🏽

⤷ yn ok that’s enough

alexandrasaintmleux I miss you

⤷ yn i miss you more come over i’ll kick lando out

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Walking to the door right now i’ll be there in 10

⤷ landonorris hello?

⤷ charles_leclerc Guess I’ll see you at the paddock then?? 😟

francisca.cgomes let him out the crate for a little bit

⤷ yn yeah he’s been behaving recently

⤷ landonorris 😈😈

oscarpiastri I think you need to take him on more walks he has to much energy

⤷ landonorris i know a way to get rid of energy easily

⤷ yn and back in the crate you go!

🝮

yn

liked by madisonbeer and 2,724,005 others

yn sushi dates with my love 🎀

alexandrasaintmleux My favorite date 🥰

⤷ charles_leclerc Uhm, alright then

landonorris but that’s our thing?? ☹️

⤷ yn you don’t even eat sushi?

⤷ landonorris i still take you out to eat it even though the sight of it makes me gag??

⤷ yn and then you make me brush my teeth before i can kiss you?

⤷ landonorris just say you hate me

⤷ yn i hate you

⤷ landonorris please take me back baby

francisca.cgomes i miss my girls 😣😣

⤷ yn we miss you more!!

alex_albon did lando stay at charles’ 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc Yes and he would not shut up about how he misses y/n

georgerussell63 Me next

⤷ landonorris no go away i’m next

⤷ lilymhe actually i am 🤣

🝮

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,113,562 others

landonorris hopelessy devoted to you ❤️

yn my one love 🤍

⤷ charles_leclerc Hold on…is y/n norris being sweet?? Did someone screenshot this?

⤷ yn did i get married and just don’t remember?

⤷ landonorris yes.

yn can we get a puppy

⤷ landonorris whatever you want baby

⤷ yn 🤍

francisca.cgomes ok, cute

carlossainz55 I remember when you were hopelessly devoted to me.

⤷ landolovesyn LMFAO NOT CARLOS BEING SALTY 😭😭

pierregasly down BAD

lilymhe hm. well, i guess this is cute

alexandrasaintmleux I approve of this post

oscarpiastri WE KNOW

chilipowder55 poor oscar 😭 he’s so done with both of them

flowers444yn all the wags don’t wanna share y/n with her bf 💀

🝮

f1updates

liked by landonorris and 28,001 others

f1updates lando & y/n out in monaco tonight

lordperceval lando’s always in the likes whenever a sighting of them is posted 😭

⤷ georgerussell63 he’s so unserious

⤷ alex_albon GEORGE?!

⤷ charles_leclerc ALEXANDER?!

⤷ maxverstappen1 CHARLES?!

⤷ carlossainz55 MAX?!

⤷ pierregasly CARLOS?!

⤷ oscarpiastri PIERRE?!

⤷ carmenmmundt OSCAR?!

⤷ lilymhe CARMEN?!

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux LILY?!

⤷ francisca.cgomes ALEX?!

⤷ lewishamilton So we all stalk every update about lando and y/n?

⤷ georgerussell63 LEWIS?!?!

sharls_lerklerk why did lewis just expose all of them

🝮

lando.jpg

liked by danielricciardo and 492,705 others

lando.jpg she’s getting it tonight

yn OH OK!! how sweet 😰

⤷ landonorris always for you 😉

yn guys i’m scared

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m omw

alexandrasaintmleux My girl 💘💗💕💓

francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl ever

alexandrasaintmleux so that’s where my dress went

⤷ yn what dress? 😟

maxverstappen1 Hair is on point

charles_leclerc Alright I fw the fit

georgerussell63 Period my queen never lets us down 💅🏽

oscarpiastri Ate down or whatever 💋

danielricciardo Drop the hair care routine girl

lilymhe beautiful beautiful girl

carlossainz55 Slay all day 😻😻

landowonone what is going on 😭

🝮

yn

liked by georgerussell63 and 3,390,781 others

yn alexandra got a puppy, so i made lando get me a puppy too

alexandrasaintmleux Play dates everyday

landonorris 🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc Leo and lil Pete are gonna be the best friends

carlossainz55 So you get him Saturday and Sunday and I get him the rest of the week? 😁

⤷ yn um no ❤️

carmenmmundt How cute 🥹

alex_albon I think he would look cuter with me…in my house…in my arms

⤷ yn i don’t think so

maxfewtrell The chokehold you have on him isn’t okay 😔

⤷ yn neither was the one he had on me last night

⤷ maxfewtrell !?!? 😨

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[teojira]

Scar x fem! Reader/Rover from Wuthering Waves where Reader is trying to get Yangyang back, and Scar offers to give her back for a kiss from reader 🫦

[What's the harm?] [Scar/reader drabble]

Summary: Scar strikes a deal with you, for both your and Yangyang's freedom. (You are Rover in this!)

Word count: 1k+ (I got POSSESSED)

Pronouns: She/her implied

Warnings: Possibly OOC but the game is 3 days old, have mercy. Slightly nsfw! Scar is down bad. You're Rover in this and you're also down bad.

A/N: I want him so bad, the constant flirting with MC? The way his eyes soften at her? I'm in love with him so bad.

“Where is she?” He's already isolated you for Yangyang, bringing you into his domain.

 It's unnerving, standing alone with a man you've seen cause so much trouble, someone who constantly is trying to get into your head.

The comments he makes, there are so many of them and they just keep coming. 

Is he lying about wanting you? Lying about wanting your trust? Is this just a ploy to get you on his side? 

You're not sure, your brain can't deny that this is a trap, he trapped you, but your brain can't deny that he's looking at you with a soft gaze that you're sure he's never graced another human with. He looks like he simultaneously wants to eat you alive and protect you like he claims.

Scar himself stands a few feet away, arms crossed as his eyes trail along your form, starting from your feet, lingering a bit on your chest until finally meeting your eyes. You swear you can see a twinkle in his eye, and he doesn't even remotely try and hide the way he licks his lips at you, a predator grin making it's way on his handsome face.

“Oh come on Rover, she'll be fine~”

“I'm not doing this with you, give her back.” You steel yourself, hand resting on the scabbard of your sword, ready for him to attack.

To your surprise, he knocks his head back and laughs, shaking his head, the movement jostling his locks. He turns back to you, moving closer, step by step.

“Look at that, that fire in your eye is mesmerizing Rover, you're that concerned with a woman who only wants to use you?” He coos, voice mimicking how an adult talks to a child and you feel small, taking a small step back but the distance still closes, he's not letting you get away.

“Stop. I'm not playing this game with you Scar, let me go and give Yangyang back.” You hate how your voice trembles a bit, hating yourself for his presence having such an effect on you.

“Yangyang This, Yangyang that, what about me my dear? Why don't you say my name like you do hers? With that fondness.” He glowers, finally closing the distance, stepping into your personal bubble and cornering you against a large rock.

“What are you even-” You can't help the flush that rushes to your face, your head dizzy at the proximity. The body heat radiating off of him is jarring, but not as jarring as his smell. He smells of ash and burnt wood, and a mix of his own natural scent and it feels warm and safe. For the first time since you've woken up, you feel protected, despite him being the enemy. The same one who the nation you're supposed to protect hates.

It's so stupid, it's so stupid.

"Say my name.” He's leaning down now, was he always this tall?

“W-” He cuts you off, grabbing your jaw with one hand, squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly, only releasing to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Say it, Rover.” His face is so fucking close, you can feel his breath tickling your face.

"Scar." You breathe out, your head spinning, this is wrong, you shouldn't have let him get this close, you need to get out and find Yangyang, what the fuck are you doing?

"Give me what I want, and I'll let you both go." He murmurs, eyes zeroed in on yours.

His heterochromatic eyes are beautiful already, but the way they're so dilated, barely any of his color is shown.

"I'm not following."

"Just a kiss my dear, just one."

"How do I know you're gonna keep your word?"

"You don't, but I don't think that's gonna stop you." He coos again, moving to trail one of his hands down your back, pushing you closer to his body, your chests both heaving and resting on one another.

He's right, as of right now, there is absolutely nothing that will stop you from this, from giving in just this once.

You lean in first, shutting your eyes tight.

It's Scar who does the rest, crashing into you like a wave, trying to consume you.

He kisses you like you're long lost lovers, pouring so much passion into the kiss that you can't ever hope to return, so when he pushes you up against the rock, you know this'll be a reoccurring occurrence. It's addicting, the feeling of his lips finally on yours, all the tension finally reaching a climax. His tongue is damn near down your throat, swallowing down your moans as much as he could, his hands gripping your hips so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if it left a mark later (a small part of you hope he does).

It takes everything in your power to pull away, but the second you do, he moves to start licking at your neck, you can feel his canines run along a specific patch of skin that makes your legs weak. You place a hand on his chest, trying to gently push him away.and when that doesn't work, you bring your other hand up to run your fingers through his locks and tug him away.

The groan he lets out is downright sinful. He looks up at you, his expression as if he just fucked you within an inch of your life, his hair mussed, his lips glossy from your combined spit.

"Was that good enough?"

"Oh honey, you're lucky I don't take you right here. But I am a man of my word." He hums, licking his lips and letting out a snicker. With a shocking gentleness, he pecks your lips one last time.

"Wake up now."

"Rover! Rover! Are you okay?" Yangyang has your head on her lap, one of her palms on your forehead, feeling the warmth there.

All you can do is groan and bring a hand to your face, covering your cheeks.

"What'd he do to you in there?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[elizaleclerc]

Hi, Max and reader are dating (private) for a few years. reader is also working for Oracle (red bull's sponsor) and she comes to a race and surprises max.♥️

this requestttt!!! wanted to twist it a little <3 added lando for some fun flare ; reader & max want to keep it private but can't help but drop hints bc they love the chaos

locked longings ✧ ⁺˳

max verstappen x reader (smau)

summary: a private relationship online with fem!reader and max slowly comes to light

song: the alchemy by taylor swift

author's note: never done an smau before and lowkey underestimated the time it took byeee ; open to more requests for smaus <3 (no face claim imagine whoever i just liked the pics)

ynusername my sweet sweet summer <3

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and others

-user8456 am i the only one wondering if her and max fell off :(

-user9902 they are probably both hella busy

-user4558 the most gorgeous redbull employee 😍

-landonorris can you bring me a redbull pls

-ynusername no.

-user5041 WAIT ARE THEY TOGETHER??

maxverstappen1 A much needed break, but can't wait get back to racing soon.

liked by charlesleclerc, ynusername, and others

-user4558 max turns into mr.worldwide on vacation

-charlesleclerc do you ever sleep?

-maxverstappen1 no.

-user9681 not the same joke y/n used with lando 😭

-user1141 they are so best friend coded

redbullracing What a wonderful day to get back to racing in Spa!

liked by maxverstappen1, ynusername, and others

-landonorris prepare to lose @/maxverstappen1

-maxverstappen1 says the man starting at p11

-ynusername cooked him omg-

-user4802 i can't tell if max actually likes lando or not 😭

-ynusername don't worry they are buddies!

-user3356 OH?

-user2301 y/n blink twice if you and lando are dating

ynusername back to work as usual! congrats to the big number 1 on the win!

liked by charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and others

-user3105 max not lurking in the comments is rare...

-user4301 maybe bc she's with someone?

-user6882 stop pushing the y/n x lando agenda oh my goddd

-user2240 THE POLAROID AWWW 😇

landonorris Good times in Spa <3

liked by ynusername, mclaren, and others

-user4505 wait...that isn't y/n

-user4802 the y/n lando truthers are crumblingggg

-user3893 OMGG so happy for u lando!!!

-mclaren That's our boyyy! 🧡

ynusername glad i could finally see these gorgeous cars in action this weekend <3 a lovely time with wonderful people!

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and others

maxverstappen1 💙💙💙

-user3489 the social implications of these hearts

-user2210 that's a real friendly hug there...

-user5572 WOAH WAIT MAX & Y/N

-landonorris can you be my good luck charm next pls

-ynusername hmm i think i'll be busy that day

-user7005 lando what do you know.

maxverstappen1 Happy guy!

liked by ynusername, charlesleclerc, and others

-ynusername the caption, simple, but effective!

-user2804 love them together so much i need the rumors to be true

-landonorris a man of many words

-user1156 y/n and max together would make me combust

-user4401 i need them to be happy together 😭

-user5969 they are TRAVELING together it HAS to be true

-user2131 he's texting her in the last pic fs

ynusername the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me 🤍

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and others

-user2202 the taylor lyric OHHH they are so in loveee

-landonorris ugh finally i was tired of keeping my mouth shut

-ynusername yeah bc we all know you're so good at it too

-user3335 I KNEW ITTTTTT

-maxverstappen1 Happy 4 years my love 💙

ynusername love youuu <3

-user1203 FOUR YEARS?!?!

-user6061 keeping it private for 4 years...yeah they are endgame.

-charlesleclerc Paddock romance of the century!!!

[smutoperator]

Tummy Perversions

Hanni Pham, Seol YoonA (Sullyoon) x Male Reader

Tags: anal, anal fingering, ass eating, belly bulge, creampie, cum licking, cum on body, cutie goes slutty, deepthroating, food play, gape, meaty pussy, midriff kink, navel poking, (lots of) oral sex, pearly gates, photoshoot, threesome, tummy licking

Word count: 4554.

Hanni is so cute that sometimes you feel bad about having impure thoughts about her. But her banging body is so hot, you can't help but take pictures of her tummy every time you perform a photoshoot with her.

As you just finished her photoshoot for Calvin Klein, you already wanted Hanni to shoot another one, so you approached her and booked the next session.

"Sure, I'll be there," Hanni says. A few days go by, and Hanni appears at your studio. You take pictures of her, but none are of her face. All you care about is her sexy, perfect tummy. And little does she know she's about to be joined by someone else that Saturday afternoon.

"Sorry for coming late; Music Core just ended, and I had to change clothes rather quickly," Sullyoon tells you. Just as you asked, she brought her Dankook University outfit that drove you crazy a couple days ago. "So, is the photoshoot theme today about colleges?" she asked you, seeing Hanni with her Korea University outfit from the day before.

"Way better," you told her. "And I gotta say, I'm disappointed you're showing so little of your iconic tummy, Yoona," you reply to her.

"Sure," Sullyoon repeats the move she did at the university festival performance, lowering her shorts so you can see more of her belly, with her navel popping out as she does it. "Better now?" she asks. "Definitely," you tell her. Every extra second you spend looking at her reminds you of how beautiful she is from head to toe. She reminds you of all the top visuals you worked with in the past: YoonA, Sana, and Tzuyu, all in one.

"You're such a beauty; are you ready to take some nice pictures?" you ask Sullyoon. "Yes," she enthusiastically answers. "I don't have any assistants today, so I'll have to do it all by myself. Also, girls, you look so hot today," you tell both of them. "I'll go get some food for you before we start," you continue.

You bring the food, but it confuses the girls at first. One bowl of ice cream and one of chocolate syrup. But soon, they will find out what this photoshoot is going to be about. You pour the ice cream into Sullyoon's belly and the chocolate syrup into Hanni's. The girls get shocked as the hot and cold food hits their tummies, but soon that gets replaced by a tingling feeling that sends shivers down the spine as you make your first moves.

You start licking the chocolate syrup from Hanni's cute belly. She can't help but find it weird, but soon starts enjoying that tongue sweeping all over that belly. Sullyoon wants a piece of it too, bringing her tummy close to you so you can lick the ice cream from it. You then back off and take some pictures of the girls with their tummies still covered with food before resuming licking them.

"I want to see your sexy tummies and legs," you tell them. "Show me," you continue. Hanni gets a little hesitant, but Sullyoon enjoys the attention. You have worked with too many JYP girls not to know them at this point. They always show their cute smiles in public but are huge sluts behind closed doors. And Sullyoon is no different.

"Don't be shy, Hanni; show her you can be a tummy queen too," you tell her as you focus on taking pictures of Sullyoon between some more licking of their perfect tummies. You would have never guessed you would develop such a midriff kink, but theirs were just too hard to resist.

You clean their tummies from the food you poured on them and take more pictures of their hot bodies, starting with Hanni. The once shy girl quickly starts to change as she strikes bolder poses with your camera each time, turning around for you to take pictures of her ass as well. "Wow, that's so good," you tell her in between some flashes as she starts sticking her tongue out for the pictures you take of her. "Perfect," you tell Hanni as you start capturing close-ups of her belly and tits. "You look so hot today, little Hanni Pham," you continue. Great shots.

Sullyoon takes her turn next. The months of MCing at Music Core have turned her into a natural in front of the cameras. She always knows where to spot them. You just can't find any flaws in her: from the perfect face to the toned tummy to her protounding pussy that can barely hide under her panties, Sullyoon's deer-esque visuals are those of a goddess.

You take more close-ups of Sullyoon, focusing on her killing trio: face, tummy, and pussy. She enjoys every second of the attention you give her. But you still haven't got a picture of one of her finest assets yet.

"Can you turn around, please?" you ask Sullyoon. She does it with ease, showing you her plump ass for the first time. Looking at it, sometimes you wonder if JYP just creates their visuals in a lab and Sullyoon is their finest creation yet.

"Look how cute you look in the camera." You show your latest picture to Sullyoon, who gives you a big smile. "Come here, Hanni, join her," you tell the Newjeans girl. "Otherwise, I'm going to take pictures of this beautiful goddess all alone forever," you continue.

Hanni joins Sullyoon as she hugs the Nmixx girl from behind. "Grab her assets," you tell the cutie as she rests her hand on Sullyoon's bra and panties. "I knew you could be a slut too, little Hanni," you praise her. "I know it's cute, but I don't want you girls to smile now; just give me the naughtiest looks you can," you tell both as your camera keeps capturing them.

"Holy shit, their tummies are so beautiful," you say as Hanni runs her hand over Sullyoon's belly, but she still keeps her navel visible for you to drool over it. Meanwhile, Sullyoon bends over a little, rubbing her big ass against Hanni's crotch. The girls keep running their hands on the beautiful bodies, but Sullyoon is truly stealing the show. Even the innocent Hanni can't help herself as she runs her hands all over Yoona's hot body and even starts touching her pussy.

Sullyoon quickly gets sandwiched between you and Hanni, as the Newjeans girl pulls Sullyoon's bra down and flashes her tits. You kiss her multiple times, in awe of her beautiful face, but also go down to poke her navel while doing so, making Sullyoon blush. The girls know what to do as Sullyoon removes your shirt while Hanni tries to pull your pants down. You slow them down a bit, but the girls quickly take charge.

As Hanni fully removes Sullyoon's top, you kiss her cute nipples while massaging her belly. Her and Hanni reach towards your pants and slowly pull them down, laughing while doing so. Hanni is the first to grab your bulging erection, while Sullyoon gives you a naughty smile as Hanni kisses her. Hanni is already twisting your cock in anticipation. In the end, she's just like Sullyoon—cute from the outside but another slut behind closed doors.

You groan as the girls massage your man meat hard. Hanni takes the shaft while Sullyoon goes straight for your balls before going down to suck it. Damn, what a perfect view that face stuffed with a big cock is. Sullyoon stares at you as she gently blows your pipe, while you turn your attention to poking Hanni's navel and then move up to suck her tits as she also takes her bra off.

Down low, Sullyoon increases the speed of her blowjob. You didn't know she could suck cock this good. But you should, because after fucking them countless times, you should've known already that JYP girls have great blowjob skills, and Sullyoon is no different, as she licked your shaft from top to bottom.

Hanni wanted a taste of it for herself, taking your dick in her mouth as Sullyoon licked your balls. You could tell she was still learning how to suck cock, but you enjoyed her eagerness to do so, taking a seat in one of the chairs as you pushed your shaft deeper into her throat.

After a while, Hanni gagged on your meat while you and Sullyoon were kissing each other, and you ran your hands over her hot body while Hanni kept sucking you off. "Oh damn," you exclaimed as the little cutie put some extra heat on your cock, deepthroating it to the max, with you dunking her head so she could take it balls deep in her mouth.

Sullyoon got down and enjoyed the sloppy mess Hanni had left on your cock, bobbing her head down in full speed against it. Once Hanni took it back, she added further slopiness and pulled your underwear down, leaving you fully naked as you traded more kisses with Sullyoon and admired her beautiful face while pounding Hanni's cute, fuckable face.

Hanni laid on the chair as Sullyoon dove down to like her pussy and tummy. As the Nmixx girl enjoyed the hotness of Hanni's lower body, you kept filling her face full of your cock, harder and harder. "Oh yes, baby, choke on that dick," you tell her as Hanni moans with the tonguing Sullyoon applies to her pussy.

You sit on top of Hanni's body, rubbing your tip against her navel and your shaft against her belly. Sullyoon quickly jumps in, sliding her face between Hanni's legs to taste your cock.

"Come here," you ask Hanni, who gets up the chair even with Sullyoon licking her pussy. Her thong is already pushed to the side as you run your hands into her ass. It turns out her mouth is the perfect cocksleeve, as she gets on her knees again and takes your cock deep once again. "OH WOW!" you groan as Hanni wraps her warm mouth around your cock. "Can you match her?" you ask Sullyoon.

Sullyoon dives so intensely against your cock that you're forced to pull out after just a couple seconds. "WOW! WOW!" is all you can scream as Sullyoon shows why she is on her way to be the next JYP blowjob master and follow in the footsteps of the likes of Nayeon and Ryujin.

Knowing their deep sucking will kill you early, you just decide to slide your cock between their lips, thursting up their cute faces as the side of your shaft rubs against their mouths. But Sullyoon wants it all, throating your cock to the fullest. "If you get a chance, take all of it," she reminds herself of the words of her teaching unnies.

Sullyoon bobs her head hard on your dick, making you scream in awe. "Are you crazy or something?" you ask her. "I just love a big cock; I can't wait to have it bulging under my tummy," she replies to you.

"Such a greedy slut," you tell her. "If you want it so much, then bend over," you say to Sullyoon, who obliges. With the help of Hanni, her panties are quickly gone, giving you a perfect view of Sullyoon's splendorous ass with nothing on. For the first time, you could take a glimpse of Sullyoon's bare fuckholes, going straight for her tiny and tight anus while her meaty cunt just waited down under.

Hanni couldn't resist and took first dib's on Sullyoon's protruding pussy lips while you rested your head on her fat ass and kept licking her butthole and then spread her cheeks to give Hanni easier access to her holes. You licked Sullyoon's ring as if it were her second navel, poking it with your hand shortly after. The way she moaned was beautiful, like a squealing, horny deer.

You let Hanni take sole control of Sullyoon's tight holes, jerking off as the Newjeans girl buried her face under Sullyoon's big ass. But you quickly ended her fun. It turns out that just looking at Sullyoon makes you even hornier. You have to fuck her asap.

You push Hanni to the side and place your fingers on Sullyoon's meaty slit. Her already ultra-wet core impresses you, who teases her by rubbing your cock against her big butt. At first, you didn't know which hole you were going to pick, but seeing Sullyoon's pussy almost begging to be stuffed made it an easy choice.

Sullyoon got on her knees on the makeup table, facing a huge mirror where you could see every expression her beautiful face was going to make when getting pounded. You teased her by putting your tip in and out of her pussy, already making her moan, before attacking her meaty core. Her already large pussy lips throbbed even further as you stuck your cock deep in her cunt, making her extra sensitive to each thrust you gave her.

After a slow start, you couldn't help but attack this throbbing cunt to the fullest, pounding Sullyoon nonstop as you grabbed her ass hard for a firm grip and slapped your balls full speed against her entrance. The beautiful goddess quickly turned into a moaning mess. Despite the wetness of her core, she was extremely tight, even tighter than some virgin pussies you had fucked before, as her walls quickly enveloped your cock and let no air get inside her pussy.

Sullyoon tried to kiss Hanni to distract herself from the pounding you were giving her, but the Newjeans girl left her hanging. "AHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH!" the deer beauty screamed as your cock shaped her insides and hit her cervix. You grabbed her slim waist and ran your hands over her tummy, poking fun of her. "Is it bulging under there?" you ask her. "YES, DADDY, AHHHHHH," she screams as you show no mercy and destroy her meaty cunt.

As Hanni and Sullyoon line up side by side, you take turns spanking their beautiful asses. Sullyoon's childish moans are driving you insane as you pound her even harder. Noticing how wet the Nmixx girl pussy is, Hanni rests her head on Sullyoon's fat ass, ready to get rewarded with a taste of Sullyoon's juices right out of your cock, which you happily feed to her.

You take turns shoving your cock between Hanni's mouth and Sullyoon's cunt before going back to focus on the latter once again. You're completely addicted to her pussy. You've never fucked one this good before: young, tight, and wet—the perfect mix. Her moans make you go feral as you stretch Sullyoon to the fullest, shoving every single inch of your cock into her core. Hanni licks Sullyoon's tummy right where your cock is bulging under it, as you keep destroying her snatch and show no signs of slowing down.

"Fuck, that's such a good pussy," you say to Sullyoon as the obliteration of her poon keeps going. Hanni now kisses her, trying to muffle her moans, but the barrage of fast and deep thrusts is just too much for Sullyoon to handle, as you make her cum rather easily. "Come here, baby," you order Hanni, who quickly dives to taste all of Sullyoon's wetness that's left on your cock.

Lubed up by Hanni's mouth, you start another round of pounding Sullyoon's cunt. She's truly got a magic box—the perfect fuckhole. JYP should allow a fleshlight to be made out of it, because it's truly amazing. At those times, you're glad you're so accustomed to JYP starlets and their tight pussies you fucked multiple times after countless photoshoots, because if you weren't, you would have already filled it to the brim.

"You're such a good girl; taste that pussy; you deserve it," you say as you pull out of Sullyoon's warm hole. She happily obliges, savoring your cock while you reach under Hanni's own cunt and start fingering it. "Hope this is just as good," you tell her, getting Hanni wet as she moans thanks to your magical hands all over her folds.

You spread Hanni's cheeks open, eating her asshole while Sullyoon stays tasting your cock. The cute Vietnamese girl moans hard as you play with her holes nonstop, spreading her pussy wide open. You really enjoy licking any girl's tiny round hole; it could be either her navel or her anus, but you are always enthusiastic about it.

"Lube that cock," you tell Sullyoon down low. "Spread that ass," you say, giving the command to Hanni up top. The oral fuckfest continues, as you can't get your mouth off Hanni's asshole and Sullyoon can't get her mouth off your cock before you invite her to do Hanni what you did to her before.

"Lick that pussy," you order to Sullyoon as both of you team up on Hanni's fuckholes, kissing each other while eating the cute Newjeans girl out. "You're so beautiful," you tell Sullyoon as you get even naughtier, shoving your middle finger up Hanni's asshole unceremoniously.

"You prepared her pussy well," you tell Sullyoon. "I think it's finally time to sit it on my cock," you say, laying on the studio's floor as Hanni gets on top of you. Sullyoon follows suit, knowing how addicted you got to her pussy, sitting her fat ass straight into your face so you can taste the mix of flavors inside the cunt you had just pounded to oblivion moments ago.

Hanni jumps on your cock and starts riding it as hard as she can. Noticing her enthusiasm, Sullyoon leaves you hanging and starts pushing Hanni faster down your cock while lining up to poke and eat her ass as well. Jump to taste your cock as soon as you slip out of Hanni's pussy for the first time.

As Sullyoon entertains herself with your cock, refusing to give it back to Hanni, you entertain the cutie with more fingering up her ass, perhaps a tease of future moves; who knows? "Slip it back in," you order to a selfish Sullyoon, who obliges even if a little upset. As soon as you get back in, Hanni gets even more insane, smashing your cock full speed and letting her cheeks hit Sullyoon's cute face as the Nmixx girl dives to lick your balls.

"OHHHH FUCKKKK," this time it's you screaming. Hanni and Sullyoon prove to be the perfect team of cute sluts, worshipping your cock like the pair of crazy whores they are. Hanni's cheeks clap even harder against your balls, and her walls close hard against your cock. You kiss Sullyoon to distract yourself, but she keeps massaging your balls as Hanni stays riding you for a few minutes.

As soon as Hanni stops, Sullyoon grabs your pole to clean it completely of Hanni's juices. The Pham girl stays on your lap as you suck her tits while your left hand pokes her navel and your right hand fists her butthole.

Not wanting to get outdone, Sullyoon pushes Hanni to the site and sits her fat ass right on your lap, impaling herself on your big cock. "You're so fucking tight," you tell her as your cock struggles to get in her tiny butthole. You lift one of Sullyoon's long legs, pushing up her ass and making her scream. Hanni senses an opportunity and licks Sullyoon's wide, open pussy. "Now I get why he likes it so much," she thinks.

Sullyoon starts bouncing her big ass on your fat cock while Hanni stays eating her meaty cunt. Her butt hitting your hips is just insane, jiggling hard every time she goes down that man meat. Sullyoon kisses you and lies down, giving you an opportunity to pound her in a pearly gates position. Her pussy might be heaven on earth, but her asshole was hella tight too.

"Lick her cunt," you ordered to Hanni as Sullyoon bounced her ass against your cock while you sat on your studio chair. The moans coming out of the Nmixx girl's mouth were as sexy as her high notes during that festival performance. Hanni, on the other hand, was feasting, taking a full-course meal into Sullyoon's lower body and licking not only her pussy but also her perfect tummy and sexy legs, getting Yoona even closer to another orgasm.

Sullyoon got some relief when your cock slid out of her ass. "Hanni, put it back on," you ordered, but just like Sullyoon was to her before, Hanni was selfish and took the opportunity to enjoy the taste of Sullyoon's butthole, ignoring your orders for a bit. You reached under and spread Sullyoon's pussy for Hanni to eat as soon as she slid your cock back inside Yoona's butt, giving her another pearly gates pounding, sensing it was her preferred position.

Hanni kissed Sullyoon's long legs a few times as you put Yoona's back fully on top of your torso and kept pounding her. Hanni then dove down and started licking your shaft as you pumped into and out of Sullyoon's ass. "Does it taste good, little Hanni?" you asked her. The way she licked your cock was enough for you to get the answer. Sullyoon's asshole got eviscerated until it was sore, with Hanni providing perfect help to keep your shaft throbbing at all moments as you pushed it up Sullyoon's butt nonstop until she came.

Hanni spread Sullyoon's pussy as she lined herself up to taste the juices Sullyoon was squirting out during her orgasm. Sullyoon cumming only made you push harder, as you now placed your finger in her clit and gifted Hanni with more juices each time you thursted up Yoona's sore ass.

"Slut likes it up in the ass, right?" you tell Sullyoon. "Yes, daddy, I li...AHHHHHHH," she can't complete the sentence; her legs close and smash Hanni's face. Her butt gets completely destroyed as you make sure Sullyoon will be practicing in pain over the course of the next week, punishing her for being such a beautiful goddess with amazingly tight fuckholes.

"Come here, taste that ass," you say as soon as you're done fucking Sullyoon. Still trying to recover from the pounding you gave her, the deer beauty kneels down and enjoys the taste of her beautiful big butt, with Hanni joining in to more ball licking.

"It's your turn next," you tell Hanni, putting them on her knees in the chair and spanking her butt. "Open her ass for me," you tell Sullyoon, who does exactly as you want it. Hanni's gaping butthole winks as it waits for your huge cock. You spit on it and tease it with your tip just a couple times before shoving it deep inside her butt.

Fucking Hanni's ass while looking at Sullyoon's pretty face feels like heaven. It doesn't take long before Hanni is completely stretched out, with huge gapes popping out of her butthole every time you give it a little room to breathe. Hanni is even easier to break than Sullyoon, with all the gaping, ass eating, and fisting you had already given her.

"AHHHHH. AHHHHH. AHHHHHH. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," Hanni screams as you gape her asshole to the size of the moon. She struggles as your thick cock hits it hard and deep, even with Sullyoon helping spread her cheeks. You fuck Sullyoon's face in between thusts inside Hanni, getting the best of both worlds. "Oh, this is so good," you tell them while thursting their pair of holes. Sullyoon pushes Hanni's ass against your cock while you kiss her. "She's getting adjusted to it," she tells you.

"Is she?" you say, pumping Hanni's butt with full force. "It doesn't look like she is," you laugh as you do to Hanni's ass exactly the same you did to Sullyoon's. "Her comeback is soon, right? I want to see this little cutie dancing with a sore ass," you say.

"Open your ass, baby," you order Hanni, plowing her nonstop. Sullyoon now licks your navel, and you love that she is into the same kink that brought her to you in the first place.

After you pull out of Hanni's butt and let her clean your cock off the juices of her ass, you tease Sullyoon by rubbing your cock against her navel. "Wanna see it bulging under it?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies. "Then lay down on this chair," you order her.

Sullyoon lays on the chair as you put your cock back in her pussy for a second round, determined to keep going until you cum. "AHHHHHH FUCKKKKK, OHHHHH, GODDDDDD," she's screaming after just a couple thursts. You give her throbbing cunt no mercy, as things get even better when you notice your ass is bumping against Hanni's legs with her behind you, making you go even harder.

Sullyoon gets completely manhandled as you watch your anaconda bulge under her sexy midriff. You kiss her, trying to muffle some of her screams, but it's futile. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH." She keeps yelling at your face. The more she screams, the more you anticipate cumming in her. She lifts her legs as her throbbing walls now make her feel like she's getting stabbed by a massive sword at each thurst you give her. Yoona's eyes roll as she tries to cope with the hard pounding in her pussy.

You give Sullyoon a little time to breathe as you let Hanni, now on her knees, taste her pussy from your cock. "Help me finish on her; warm her up," you tell the Newjeans girl. Hanni dives and eats Sullyoon's throbbing pussy while you feed your cock into the Nmixx girl's mouth, fucking her face hard one last time. "Let me fuck her," you say as Hanni moves to the side, but not without licking Sullyoon's midriff again. 

You go so fast, deep, and hard on Sullyoon's pussy you don't even manage to last for a minute. Her clenching tight walls make you paint them white quickly, but you manage to pull out after a couple loads just in time to shoot the rest all over her beautiful body, hitting the first one in her face and the rest all over her sexy midriff, with the final one filling her navel. Hanni comes in and licks the cum canvas you left on Sullyoon's tummy, in a very reminiscent way to the one you did earlier to the ice cream you poured in her belly, with you picking up your camera just in time to take pictures of her doing it.

"That's all I have for today, you cute sluts; you two milked me dry," you tell both girls, poking their navels one final time with your already flaccid cock. "I crown you, Hanni Pham, the tummy princess, and you, Seol YoonA, the tummy queen of K-pop," you tell them. "I hope you girls can bring your friends to me for another threesome like this."

"Sure," Hanni says. "I can bring Yunjin or a groupmate of mine," she continues. "Me too," Sullyoon says. "My groupmates or my best friend Isa, she's got some great thighs," she continues.

"I can't wait for the next time," you tell them, kissing both girls as they dress themselves up and return to their cute facades.

"Hope we see you soon too, Daddy," they finish as they leave the room.

[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. 

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend doesn’t like it when you eat unhealthy food while busy with uni work.

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff. age gap (reader around early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). behavior may come off as ‘overprotective’ to some. nicknames ‘baby, sweetheart, princess’. not proofread

satoru’s at work while you’re in his kitchen, preparing a quick meal for yourself. you’ve been busy making and finishing assignments all day. you really could do with a break. though, a short one. there’s still lots more to do before you’re done with everything mandatory.

it’s convenient that satoru allows you to stay over at his apartment whenever you want to. he’s given you a spare key and told you that his home is also yours. if you need a break from your own place, you can always stop by his.

“ah, crap,” you hiss as the sauce packet nearly bursts open in your hand due to how roughly you pulled on its edges. you season your instant ramen noodles without much thought. it’s a quick meal that saves you time.

you’ve had it four days a row now—along with some pizza slices here and there. your boyfriend has been nice enough to send you money, telling you to treat yourself to some decent food while he’s away on business, but you’re really just too busy to treat yourself.

satoru’d be upset if he knew that you’re living off unhealthy crap again. the last time he caught you, he prepared you homemade meals or took you out to restaurants for weeks. he needs you to ingest your daily nutritions so you can stay healthy. you’re too important to him and he wants the best for you.

you grab your chopsticks and mix the sauce with the noodles, your spotify playlist running in the background. you walk to the fridge and grab a soda before sitting down at the kitchen table. unlocking your phone, you decide to see if anything’s going on on social media.

you’re too focused on your screen and the food entering your mouth to notice the front door opening. you catch a glimpse of a figure in the corner of your eye and your head flies up. a bit too late..

“ah, hi, satoru,” you mumble with a mouthful of ramen noodles. you’re caught off guard and you barely know what to do as the white-haired man puts his keys in his pockets. you put your phone down and discreetly try to cover your bowl, “didn’t know you’d come back so early.”

too bad you didn’t think of opening a window or throwing away the opened package of instant ramen. satoru looks over at the messy counter before walking towards you. he reaches a hand out to your cheek, brushing your thumb against your skin.

“hi, pretty,” satoru greets you with a gentle smile. he leans down and presses a kiss onto your lips, tongue stealing a taste of the sauce on your mouth. he pulls back and pinches the cheek he’s holding, “mind telling me what you’re eating, hm?”

you pout and swallow the bite of noodles you had in your mouth. you put your hands down, knowing there’s no hiding anything from your boyfriend. he dislikes the fact that you’re not taking your health seriously. “instant ramen. . .” you respond defeatedly.

satoru ruffles your hair with a shake of his head, silently disapproving of your actions. “i’ve given you money to get a proper meal, didn’t i, baby?” the older man explains in the same tender tone. he doesn’t have the heart to be mad at you. he crouches down next to the chair you’re sitting on and kisses your knuckles, each getting a peck.

“yeah, ‘m sorry,” you nod, knowing your lover did his part of taking care of you. he gave you money to spend on food or ingredients, but you still chose the easy way out. it’s not like you’ve been craving noodles—you’re eating them for the sole reason being that they’re fast and easy to make. you’re too busy (and lazy) to go out and buy stuff.

satoru chuckles, not really mad at you at all. he’s simply worried for your wellbeing. he sees how hard you work for uni while also making time to spend with him, no matter how little it may be. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead before getting up.

the sorcerer looks down at the bowl of noodles before glancing back at you. “do you want to finish it or do you want me to make you something?” he asks whilst playing with the little hairs around your face. you’re beautiful, somehow even more gorgeous with those dark circles under your eyes.

you pout and think about his question. you’re tired of eating the same thing four times in a row and you know how good satoru’s cooking can be, so. . .

“can you make me something?” you ask carefully in a quiet tone, flashing your boyfriend your best puppy eyes, “pretty please?”

satoru grins and nods immediately. he’s always happy to help you out when you need it. “of course. anything for my princess,” he coos and squeezes your cheeks one last time. he’s got an obsession with the way you scrunch your nose up every time he does so.

he grabs the bowl of noodles and puts it away after making sure you didn’t want any more of it. sure, he wants the best for you, but he doesn’t want to be too restrictive. in case you still want to steal a bit, satoru puts the bowl in the corner of the counter.

you walk to satoru as he stands near the fridge. you rub your weary eyes and watch as he grabs the needed items to make your favorite comfort meal. he catches you staring at him and he smirks lovingly.

“oh my, i have such an adorable girlfriend,” the older man holds himself back from squeezing your cheeks together again. he holds your wrist and pulls you flush against him, his head leaning down to match your eye level.

satoru plants a quick kiss on your lips. his hand finds it way on your hips before slithering upwards. he pats your back, gently comforting and encouraging you, his other hand doing the same on the back of your head. he knows how hard it is for you these days, with the busy end of the semester and all.

“love you, ‘toru, thank you,” you smile at him and nuzzle your face into his chest. you really needed a distraction from all the hard work you still have to do. a quick break with the person you cherish most will gain you back all the energy you’ve lost.

satoru hugs you even tighter to him when you utter those magical words. if he could, he’d take care of you every single second of the day. he’d do anything to make you feel better. he places a peck to your forehead, “i love you too, sweetheart. but promise me one thing; please take better care of yourself, ‘kay?”

[corrodedbisexual]

Steve's sprawled across the couch watching a movie and doesn't react at first to the movement on the opposite side of it; he's so used to Eddie fidgeting all the time, even in his sleep, that he barely notices anymore. But then, there's the unmistakable weight and warmth of his boyfriend crawling across his body, and Eddie's face in his peripheral vision finally makes Steve turn and look.

Okay, well, that's a new one. But it's Eddie Munson, so pretty much every day there's something new.

Steve raises an eyebrow at the boy's face looming above him, grinning around a gummy worm dangling from his teeth.

"What?"

Eddie mumbles something unintelligible around the candy; the only part Steve can make out is the final 'oh fuck' as sugary spit starts running down Eddie's chin, and he has to rip the gummy out of his teeth and wipe his mouth with a sleeve.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head fondly. He's way too far gone, because it's just endearing when it should, probably, be off-putting.

"I brought you a worm," Eddie finally says clearly, his mouth free. "Get it?"

Steve just continues to stare at him, both eyebrows raised now. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I'm courting you? Like, bird-style? You're supposed to accept my worm if you like me."

Steve bursts out laughing; he can't help it.

"Courting me? Eds, we've been dating for six months."

Eddie sighs, his smile turning sheepish as he starts moving away.

"Uh... You know what, never mind, t'was stupid—"

"Nonono, babe, get back here," Steve interrupts him, still chuckling, and grabs the front of Eddie's shirt to tug him back in. "Come on, I'll gladly accept your worm."

With a nearly blinding grin, Eddie shoves the gummy back between his teeth and leans in. Steve leans forward a bit and gingerly takes it with his teeth, their lips brushing briefly. As Steve chews through the sour-sweet gummy, his boyfriend giggles above him, eyes sparkling.

"You liiike me, then."

"I love you, you dork," Steve points out to him, unable to stop grinning now.

"Well, yeah, but now I also know you'd like me if we were birds."

"Oh yeah. I bet your mating dance would win me over right away, too."

Steve was absolutely prepared for Eddie to take the bait, and yet he's still in stitches from laughing as his boyfriend pushes himself to his feet and starts dancing around the couch, flapping his arms and making loud chirping noises.

Bird Steve would certainly be swooning. Human Steve just keeps falling harder every day.

[kryptonitejelly]

Can you do a newly wed Art x Y/N smut where they can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. Like every day they just can’t resist ripping each others clothes off. They know they’re in the honeymoon faze, but they are so sure it will continue throughout their marriage

art donaldson x reader // challengers. nsfw - minors DNI

-

“Art,” you caution with no real bite as you feel his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress.

He hums back at you, in acknowledgment rather than in question as you feel his fingers move up higher, pushing the hem of your dress a few more inches up.

“Art,” you say again as he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss which you meet willingly. You feel his fingers now brushing the lace of your underwear, and you can feel him groan in appreciation as his fingertips skim across barely there lace which he easily pushes aside. Your legs part involuntarily, as Art finds you already slick.

“You’re wet,” he says as he breaks the kiss to bring his lips up to your ears. He shouldn’t have been surprised, because your body’s reaction to him has always been the same, and always quick, but Art always is.

“Mhm,” it’s now your turn to him in response as he drops his lips to your neck, sucking lightly on the spot of flesh that he knows will get you even wetter while his fingers begin massaging your clit in gentle, barely there circles which leave you wanting more. You can feel your eye lids fluttering close and you’ve never been more thankful for the secluded, private booth in the otherwise packed restaurant.

“I want to fuck you,” you hear Art say against your skin, as he withdraws his fingers, causing you to whimper at the lost of contact. His voice is soft, almost gentle, a stark contrast to his words. He brings his fingers up, which are shiny with your slick, only to pop his index finger into his mouth.

“Then fuck me,” you breathe out, watching as he tastes you, catching sight of his wedding band, a relatively new addition to his hand and yours, glinting.

-

You both barely make it past the threshold of your apartment before your hands are undoing his jeans, his hands pulling down your top of your dress. Art bends his head, tongue swirling around one of your nipples, an act which causes you to arch into his mouth, a loud moan falling from your lips as the electronic lock on your apartment door whirls shut.

“I need you,” you say, a desperate quality to your voice as you make quick work of unzipping his jeans, pushing them down with his underwear.

“Jump,” Art says against your lips, both your mouths moving against each other, and you do. He catches you easily, his years of tennis working to both your advantage. You hands work their way around his neck, legs winding around his body as your back presses into the wall behind, the door which you had both come in from still just mere steps away. Art can feel the stem of your right heel pressing into his butt cheek as he lines himself up against your entrance with his right hand, his left supporting you. He had gotten rid of your underwear before you had even left the restaurant, making you tug it off before he paid the bill, and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Always,” you manage to pant out, your hips bucking forward as you feel the tip of him nudge you. Art pushes his hips forward, bottoming out in one fluid motion. You’re practically dripping but the stretch still makes you gasp, half in pleasure and half in pain as you adjust to him. You throw your head back against the wall, and Art takes the opportunity to bring his lips to your neck as he gives you a few seconds to adjust to him.

“Move,” you implore him, as you attempt to press your hips into his, “please.”

Art begins to move, his hips snapping into yours at an unmatched pace. You throw one of your hands back, palm flat against the wall your other hand finding its way to the back of his neck, nails sinking into his skin. Art can feel the cool metal of your ring stack, wedding and engagement, against his skin. He turns to kiss the inside of your forearm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters against your skin, the words falling from his mouth like a litany as he continues to thrust into you, “my wife is so fucking beautiful.”

“I want to cum,” the words escape you like a whine, but also a command as your hands inch up the back of Art’s neck to grasp the hair on the back of his head. It earns you a growl from him, not dissimilar to the sounds which he makes on the tennis court, as his strokes become more intention filled, his hips pressing further into you with each movement; Art aims to please. You feel Art’s teeth sink down onto your shoulder as the familiar pressure begins to coil in your middle.

You come with a cry, your orgasm washing over you, and you lose control of your body in the moment, your hips jerking uncontrollably between Art and the wall. Your pleasure drives him over the edge, and he cums with a groan, his hips on auto pilot as they continue to push into yours, but now at a languid pace as he fucks himself through his own high.

“You okay to stand?” He asks, forehead against yours, your back still pressed against the wall, legs still wrapped around him, but more loosely.

“No,” you respond, your eyes fluttering open, looking into Art’s blue-brown eyes. You can feel him softening inside you, but Art doesn’t pull himself out. He manages to shuffle deeper into your apartment, into the guest toilet nearest to the entrance with you still wrapped around him, his jeans and underwear still hooked around knee height.

Art sets you down on the bathroom counter, your skin meeting cool marble before he pulls out of you.

“We’re no better than a couple of horny teenagers,” you muse as you move to tug your dress over your head before letting it drop on the counter beside you, “how long do you think it’ll last.”

You feel Art run a finger up your slit as his cum starts to drip out of you, your still sensitive body shuddering slightly at the contact. You both had always had trouble keeping your hands off each other but since the wedding, something about knowing that you were husband and wife had made it so much worse.

“Do you want it not to last?” He asks, his tone light, but with a flash of insecurity that you know its there.

“I want it to last,” you say firmly as you reach for his hand, your lips going over his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you taste both yourself and his cum on him, before releasing his finger with a pop. You see Art’s eyes darken with lust, his hand coming to grasp your jaw lightly tilting your head up so his lips can meet yours.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Captain II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You come home after being announced as captain

In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.

You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.

There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.

The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.

You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.

You pull up at their house and sigh.

Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.

You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.

You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.

The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.

You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.

Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.

"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."

"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"

"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."

You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.

"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."

"I told Talia," You reply.

In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.

She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.

"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."

In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.

Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.

Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.

Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.

"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"

You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.

"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"

"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"

"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"

(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)

"Come on," You complain," Let go!"

You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.

Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.

She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."

"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.

"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"

"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"

"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."

You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.

Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"

"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"

Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."

[neil-gaiman]

This isn’t a question, but I want to thank you for your books and how they’ve impacted my life.

Over thirteen years ago, I read Neverwhere for the first time and it changed what kind of writer I wanted to be. I went on to read more of your books—my other two favourites were The Graveyard Book and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

About 11 or so years ago, I asked you on Twitter if I could read Stardust on a Twitch livestream, and you responded, “Fine by me”. It was one of my best streams, and while life got in the way of me doing more, I still remember it incredibly fondly.

Ten years ago I had a baby, and while he was an infant, I read him, Fortunately, the Milk, in an attempt to read him a book. He didn’t seem interested. I decided I’d try again some other time perhaps. But I did resolve to get him to read The Graveyard Book someday.

Nine years ago, when I was a mother of a one-year-old, I posted a status on Facebook simply saying, “We do not forget.”

Two years ago, I went on holiday, and I downloaded the audio book version of The Graveyard Book from our local library. My eight-year-old son listened to it as he fell asleep, though he ended up missing some parts, and we shelved it.

Last year, he read Coraline and didn’t like it. That isn’t your fault. He read Charlotte’s Web and didn’t like that either. He just didn’t quite have the understanding for them.

This year, he read Coraline and liked it. I told him it was from the same author as The Graveyard Book. He lamented that he never finished The Graveyard Book, and I said he could always download it from the library again.

Then about a month ago, he and I went through a tough time. I was really stressed about life, he wasn’t doing so well either, and our relationship got strained. I was angry with him all the time. I needed a break from him, or I thought I did. But one day when he was at his dad’s I realised that I wouldn’t get this time back. That I needed to fix it. So I asked him if he wanted me to read to him at bedtime. Just like when he was little. And we settled on The Graveyard Book.

On nights when he got to bed on time, I’d read a chapter. It often meant stretching past bedtime, but I could never stop halfway. It had been years since I’d read it too, and I found myself remembering things I’d forgotten. I’d watch his dark eyes widen whenever things got exciting, and I loved when he would interrupt me with an important revelation. “It’s Scarlett! His friend!” he’d say. “The dog! The grey dog!” “I know what Silas is!” He would tell me that I did the voices so well, that it seemed to match each character so perfectly.

We didn’t read every night, but it was a treat when we did. One night we had an argument and he told me he hated me. That he wished I was dead. And that he wanted to be with his dad. I told him to go take a shower, and that I’d ask his dad to come get him. His dad said no, but agreed to talk to him on the phone. After the shower, my son apologised for what he said. I said okay, and told him to call his dad to chat. After their call, he asked if we would still have story time. I asked if he preferred that or to have some space. He said he wanted both, but wanted story time more than space. So I read to him. It was the chapter when Bod and Silas argued, and then apologised to each other. Halfway through that chapter, my son asked for snuggles. I said, what happened to space? And he said, “I want snuggles more than space.”

We were sad when it ended. We finished it last weekend. I cried as I read it. But it was a beautiful sadness. We’ve talked about it a bit since then, to process it. He says he would like to read more about Silas and Bod’s adventures and asked if there was fan fiction about it. I told him to look, and to write some if there wasn’t. Perhaps I’ll write some too, just for him.

Last night he was at his dad’s and I was browsing Facebook and sent him a couple of his old pictures. Then I found an old post. From exactly nine years ago. And so I sent it to him.

It brought tears to my eyes. I did not remember making that post, and I’ve forgotten a great deal over the years, but I hope I do not forget these little moments with my son. But even if I do, I have them written down here to remind me again.

And thank you. For the words you’ve written and the impact you’ve had on our lives and hearts. I hope that your life holds the same amount of joy and love that you’ve given to others with your words.

That made me so happy. Thank you. I hope you and your son keep growing together.

[pucksandpower]

Black Magic

Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader

Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse

Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.

He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”

“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.

Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”

Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.

There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”

“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”

You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”

“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”

Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”

Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”

“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”

“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”

You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”

A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.

Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.

Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”

Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”

And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.

You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”

Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”

“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”

Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”

A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”

Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”

You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”

He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”

Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”

A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.

Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.

“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”

Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”

“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”

You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”

A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”

You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”

Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.

But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.

His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”

And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.

After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”

You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”

Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”

A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”

“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”

You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”

Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”

A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”

A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”

Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”

“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”

Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.

It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.

Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.

As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”

Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”

You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”

Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”

You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”

He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.

The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...

Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.

“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”

“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”

A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.

Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”

An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”

With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.

As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...

With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.

Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.

***

The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.

This is it. His moment of truth.

Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.

“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”

You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.

“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”

Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”

You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”

“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”

He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.

By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.

As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.

A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.

And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...

And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.

***

As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.

He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.

“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”

“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”

“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”

At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.

“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”

The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”

Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.

“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”

The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”

“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”

A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.

Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”

Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”

The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”

“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”

He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”

The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”

“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”

The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”

A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”

He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.

Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”

The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”

Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”

Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.

As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.

“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”

Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”

“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”

Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.

But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.

He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”

You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”

Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”

He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.

“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.

Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”

You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.

Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”

You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”

He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”

Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”

Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.

There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.

He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.

Protected. Centered. Empowered.

Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.

As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.

So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.

As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.