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#would you believe that I have a bit of time to squeeze in
syoddeye · 2 days
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I love your writing and literally read your blog like the morning paper. But the brainrot has been rotting and I can’t stop thinking about going on a date with Price and he talks about his three dogs back home and you think it’s so sweet that he loves his pets so much…then he takes you home for the first time and you realize why he complained about how difficult they were to train.
“Meet Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. Why d’you have that look on your face, love?”
jasdhlgjkahg 🧡 thank you, that is so kind. i hope i'm like the funny funny section and not family circus. apologies i don't have the brainspace for a full thing, but—
imagine you meet because he stops to compliment your dog. you're quite obsessed with your little pet. maybe you ramble on about their training and keeping. he mentions he has three of his own.
"wow! you've got your hands full, huh?"
"you could say that."
before you know it, twenty minutes pass and you're typing your number into his archaic non-smartphone. he calls that evening and asks you out for a drink. he seems nice, and he loves dogs, so what's the harm? you've been single for so long.
john's great. better than great, really. a gentleman. intelligent. funny. employed. it's become your custom to exchange little updates on your dogs whenever you meet. he doesn't have pictures to show you (explains he's a little paranoid due to his work. jokes about being an 'endangered species' with his 'dumb' phone.) but he assures you're they're smart, gorgeous, and good with people. really emphasizes that last bit.
"they're for protection and huntin'. took a bit of trainin' in those early years, but now they warm up quick those i deem friendly."
"would that include me?"
"care to find out?"
you suppose it's time to visit his place for once. he picks you up and spends the drive chatting about what he's making for dinner. he mentions that his 'boys' have already eaten, but tend to get underfoot. would you mind playing with them while he cooks? of course! sounds fun.
his property's beautiful. you notice lots of trees and a large fenced area as he takes you up the drive. the dogs must be spoiled with all that room to roam.
it isn't until you step inside, hear a television, and count the shoes in the entryway that a feeling of wrongness sweeps over you. however, john's arm hooks around your waist, and he herds you further inside. he doesn't allow your doubt to keep you at the door.
you want to believe he leaves the television on for the dogs. that he perhaps owns several pairs of shoes…in varying sizes.
but when you round a corner into a living space and see three men draped comfortably on a couch, the realization hits like a pail of cold water. it's the way their heads turn in unison. their slow pan from you to john. the glint of the id tags on their collars.
"meet gaz, soap, and ghost. why d'you have that look on your face, love?"
john chuckles, slips his hand down to squeeze your ass, then pats it playfully. He says he'll start dinner and that he's very thankful you're here to keep them preoccupied.
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hurtspideyparker · 2 days
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Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker
Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go. 
Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts. 
"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them. 
"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."
"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"
Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up. 
"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."
Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out. 
"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."
"Hm. I think you're right actually."
Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots. 
"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."
"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."
"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"
"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper. 
"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.
Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?" 
"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change." 
Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.
"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"
There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism. 
Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."
Pepper glances at Peter in consideration. 
"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company." 
"Oh, I haven't really-"
"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."
Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago. 
It means she's already had the argument in her head. 
Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner. 
"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously. 
"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents." 
"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter." 
"You are such a man child!"
"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.
"Um, guys, I think people are staring."
Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips. 
Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained." 
"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them. 
Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads. 
"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."
"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."
Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them. 
"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again. 
The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences. 
"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly. 
Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."
Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked. 
Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.
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reginrokkr · 11 months
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Once I'm done with this week's exams on Thursday, it'll be over for you 🔪 (gently).
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screampied · 10 days
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#OOHMAMI! g. suguru
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☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.
wc. 5.7k
warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe.
an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯
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“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”
stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—
you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.
“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.
“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”
no, no you weren’t.
you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.
but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.
without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.
it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.
“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.
indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.
geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”
“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.
“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.
sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”
shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.
drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.
one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.
geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.
“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.
geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.
it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.
the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”
and he wasn’t kidding.
the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.
his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.
vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.
the thrill . .
you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.
over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.
geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.
it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.
fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—
“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.
oh he’s cocky.
with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”
“i—”
it’s like his cologne got louder.
you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?
and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.
not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.
and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .
but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.
not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.
geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.
instead of riding just his car — you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.
too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.
he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.
geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.
you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.
belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.
“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.
a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.
you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.
both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.
they didn’t have a chance,
they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.
typical.
“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.
yet.
“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.
“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.
your hips were killer.
unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”
your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.
“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.
maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.
“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.
“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.
the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.
geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”
you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.
he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”
your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.
your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.
“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.
you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.
erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”
whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.
it’s hot, literally.
with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.
you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.
he was close.
the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.
once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.
you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.
you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.
so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”
“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.
as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.
you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”
geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.
“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.
it spurts out slowly but surely.
globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.
geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.
he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.
oh, he’s obsessed—
screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.
geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.
with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”
“out the wind—”
and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.
your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.
“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.
geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.
at all.
he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.
“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.
growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.
if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.
geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.
geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.
his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”
you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.
it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.
“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”
with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”
geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.
he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.
you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.
“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.
he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.
needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.
geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.
he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.
maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.
he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.
“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”
your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”
“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.
geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”
he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.
the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.
but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.
with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.
hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,
his real prize.
9K notes · View notes
tonycries · 3 months
Text
Kiss Me More!
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Synopsis. There’s always something that makes him lose control - and you love pushing those buttons.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough séx, unprotected, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, slight exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s), Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, dacryphília (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.1k
A/N. Bro my laptop crashed thrice trynna write this um.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Raw?!”
Great, Toji thinks, he’s finally lost it.
Because sooner have the words left your swollen lips, all the blood goes rushing to his achingly hard cock - so swollen and already leaking hot precum all over your trembling thighs. Some dark, primal part of himself being poked so dangerously awake.
“Are ya sure, doll?” he breathes, and the words come out ragged - pained even. Like some part of himself wanted you to save no, was begging you to say no - for his own sanity. Because just the thought of your pretty lil’ cunt wrapped around his cock makes him feel lightheaded. “We don’t-”
“I wan’ to,” you give him a determined little nod. Spreading your legs further and oh Toji lets out a hoarse grunt at the heavenly sight. Hanging on your every word as you continue, “What’s the worst that can happen?”
That was hours ago - oh, how foolish you were. 
You never thought that those would be the words that make your poor boyfriend snap. That it would only take him just barely grazing his angry, weeping tip between your puffy folds. Up and down up and down up and- down went every rational thought. 
Too depraved. Too lost in the feeling of finally having you and your soft pussy and you-
“C-can’t believe you’ve been ngh- fuckin’ holdin’ out on m-me.” He was in heaven, making you cum over and over and-
And you were clawing limply at the drenched sheets, the headrest, Toji’s shoulders - just anything and everything for some semblance of sanity. 
“T-Toji-” you sob, “S’too much. I- ngh- can’t anymore-”
“Fuck! Been hah- holdin’ out on me.” he groans, like a mantra. Brows furrowing as he squeezes his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. And if it was any other time then Toji might’ve almost been embarrassed at the way his sentence cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Choking out, “One more- gimme j-jus’ one more.”
“But-” Big, fat tears roll down your burning cheeks as large fingers dip down to toy your sensitive clit between them - no rhythm or rhyme, just to get you off. “You said the p-previous one would ngh- b-be the last.”
Ah, you were so cute blabbering out little pleas. And the only response you get is a devilish smirk, Toji’s darkened, hooded eyes boring into yours as he hums, “Did I? I don’t remember.”
He did remember. Very well, in fact as he pushed you to your nth orgasm tonight. And it took everything in him to hold off his high as he fucked you through yours, whispering out hollow promises about it being the “last time” and just “one more”. 
“S’okay-” Toji nips playfully at your wobbling lips. Salty with the taste of your overstimulated tears. “One more- you can mmpf- cum f’me once more, right?” 
And Toji’s barely-there sense of rationality in him knows he should slow down. Ease up his bruising grp on your hips. Have at least some shred of concern as he fucks your quivering cunt rougher, like his personal sex toy more than anything. 
Yet, no, right now he couldn’t even think straight. Too focused on how your moans were so sweet. Lips so pretty screaming out his name. Snug cunt too fucking heavenly when you cum all over his cock, squeezing him like your slutty lil’ pussy was trying to milk the fucking soul out of him. So hard and addicted that Toji was hooked. 
You mewl a delirious little, “H-hooked?” Batting your hazy eyes up at the monster above you, who seemed well and fully intent on making you cum until you couldn’t anymore. “Y-you’re hooked?”
Whoops, did he say that out loud? Seems you weren’t the only one that was completely and utterly wrecked here. 
“Shhh,” Toji drops his head once more to kiss away your adorable pout - the one that only makes his balls squeeze so painfully. “Just focus on how ngh- fuckin’ food ya feel, pretty.” Fingers erratic on your throbbing clit, just soaked in your sweet juices. Moving deftly to spell out a messy T-O-J-I. Over and over and- “After all, this hah- pussy now belongs to me now, right?”
And it’s all you can do to give a delirious little nod, words slurring together as you hiss a low, “Y-yours- S’all for- ngh- you-” Hips bucking wildly underneath his strong figure. “Close- m’gonna cum, Toji-”
The only response you get is a guttural groan of what sounded like your name - followed shortly by a string of profanities as Toji speeds up his abuse on your cunt. One hand reaching out to grip onto the headboard, so hard that if you were in any better state of mind the two of you would have registered the sharp snap! 
The other almost-feverish on your poor clit - like it hurt to not have you cumming all over his cock now. Spelling his name over and over and-
“Oh I’ll let ya cum-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy now. Sounding like his sanity was dancing away every time his hips slapped bruisingly against yours. “Gonna make you c-cum so ha- hard you’ll forget everything else-”
You’re letting out strangled little gasps in response, hips torn between running away and fucking down for more more more-
“Fuck- hope you’re on the pill, doll.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Painted white
“Whoops.”
Nanami well and fully thinks that it’s your fault he feels less of a man than some monster right now. He acts like it, too, holding back a sultry little smile as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress. 
Close - too close. 
Close enough that he’s immediately pulling out of your snug cunt. So fucking difficult with the way you’re sucking him up so good - but oh was it worth it watching the way your swollen lips drop into a soft oh! Glassy eyes snapping down to catch the way he fucks his fist once, twice. Before spilling all over your swollen folds, painting you such an obscene white over and over and-
“Now now,” you can only keen in response as your husband hums lowly. Fist sliding languidly up and down his angry, red cock. “Guess we hafta hah- do it all over again, my love.” 
Yeah, definitely worth it with the way he had you all breathless and needy, your slutty lil’ pussy just begging to go over the edge - only to tease you at the very last second. God, it’s been like this for so long now. 
“So mean,” you give Nanami a little pout - one that has his still-painfully hard cock twitching so sensitively in his hand. Big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you continue, “You’re being so ngh- mean, Ken.”
Oh, damn that little nickname - the exact same one you’d scream when you’re close. Damn the way you cock your head just right, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him.
Damn the way he snakes his hand down to the sinful little pool of cum spreading all over your lower stomach. Letting it trickle onto his fingertips - immediately shoving them between your lips to shut up those pretty lil’ moans. 
“Mean?” he manages to chuckle. Tips of his fingers pressing right at the back of your tongue. Slapping his swollen cock on your stomach, “Is this what you ah- wanted? Are ya happy now, my love?” 
The sight of you all teary and gagging around his fingers was almost as addictive as the sight of you covered in his cum. Almost. 
He sweeps his eyes all over where you were splayed out so prettily for him. Your glossy lips, the streaks of cum on your stomach, your chin, everywhere and anywhere - except where you wanted the most. 
It had started with an accident, really, when he’d pulled out a bit too early tonight. And fuck if Nanami didn’t think that sight of you all dripping and covereed with him was like the gates of heaven spread wide open all for him. A new, dangerous addiction. 
Which is why he’s pushing his fingers deeper, whispering out a ragged little, “Shit, you’re so messy.” Purposefully dragging his thumb across your lower lip to smear the mess everywhere. Your lips, your chin, inside. “So filthy.” He can’t even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. Dipping down the valleys of your chest, down, down down, to where his achingly hard tip was just kissing your quivering entrance now, “So perfect.” 
And without warning, Nanami’s splitting you apart on his massive cock once more. Jaw falling slack ever-so-slightly at the way you’re taking him up so readily - inch by fucking inch like it hurt to be apart.
“F-fuck,” you moan, the words broken as he starts moving inside - back to picking up that unforgiving pace from earlier, like he never stopped. “Hngh- s’too good- too full, Kento-”
“Awww, what happened to ‘Ken’?” Nanami cuts you off uncharacteristically. Hips slowing down to lazy, mindless little movements that have you gasping in protests. “Was gonna cum on your pretty face this time hah- s-seems you don’t want it, hm?”  
And ah, let it be known that Nanami Kento would burn down the world for his wife. 
But what fun it was to tease you - to have your mouth dropping in disbelief, eyes widening in your delirious state. Babbling out a broken, “No no no, Ken- hngh- wan’ you to cum inside.” Back arching off the bed, grappling pathetically for more more more- “To paint me white inside- Please?”
Oh, did you know how to push his buttons just right. Because how could Nanami deny you begging so prettily like that?
Because the sentence is barely out of your mouth before neat nails are digging into your hips as Nanami pulls your hips closer, milking his cock on your snug cunt - so hard he knew it would leave marks. His heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, nails dragging down his bulging biceps as you moan his name. 
Whispering, breath hot against your ear, “You’re right.” Voice so strained and dark that you almost don’t recognize it as your husbands. “So, so right.”
Nanami’s index finger coming down to draw an invisible line right where he could feel his cock making a mess of you inside. 
“Ah! Ken, W-what-”
“You’re so right.” he’s breathing against your mouth, like a little prayer. Tasting the sweet candy of your lips and himself and you- “The next spot-” Pressing his finger down right on that spot, hard. Like he wanted to feel himself more than anything. “Will be here.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty when you cry
“S-Sugu, are you okay?” you’re looking over your shoulder to ask. 
Nothing. Absolutely nothing - except for Geto’s heavy breathing, and the lewd little squelches from down below, his swollen cock just barely sinking into your heavenly cunt. And you know it doesn’t bode well.
You’d be almost worried if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown and just locked on that single, stray tear rolling down your cheek. Such a dark little glint in his gaze that had you wondering whether you should be concerned for him or yourself. 
Yet you manage to choke out a little, “Suguru?”
Ah that snaps him out of his little reverie, suddenly too-aware of your plushy walls sucking the soul out of his hot, angry head. 
With work, it’s been a while since Geto got to fuck your snug cunt - and you needed to breathe, maybe spread your legs more. Relax, because it was so fucking tight and Geto wasn’t even halfway. The stretch way too sinful. Too much. Your lips wobbling at how massive his cock was, and oh- was that another tear going down your pretty face?
You don’t even get to confirm because several things happen at once - immediately, he’s pushing his aching dick in one, harsh thrust. Head dipping down to pool the tears streaming on his hot tongue, groaning at the taste.
“O-oh.” you manage to grit out, feeling like Geto was pushing into your fucking lungs. “S’too big. Sugu, ah!”
“Shhhh, gorgeous.” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, fingers dancing down your body to roll your ravaged clit between them. “S’alrigh- ngh-” And you didn’t know whether he was reassuring himself more than you. “You got it. Y-you’ll take it- you always do, right?”
And he was right - but you’d forgotten how unforgiving Geto’s cock was. How unforgiving he was as he pries away your fingers gripping onto the headrest - trying pathetically to pull away from the pressure down below. 
Hah, he thinks, intertwining them so mockingly with his own, as if he’d let such a pretty lil’ thing like you escape. 
Romantic - the way this was supposed to be. 
Yet, now, Geto was fucking you like anything but. 
“You’re not trying to- fuck- run away,” he’s purring in your ear, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit once. Twice. As if trying to will the answer out of you, “Right?” Not even waiting for your answer before reeling his hips back, all the way till his fat tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “After we hngh- haven’t done this in so-” Slamming his hips down. Harsh. “-long?”
And shit- he was acting like it, too. So depraved and filthy the way he was drinking up your cute lil’ moans, tasting your tears on his lips while he couldn’t decide between bruising your poor cervix and hitting that one spot. “T-too fuckin’ long, gorgeous.”
The only answer he gets is your sweet, simpering whine of “Sugu- Sugu Sugu- oh my god.” Back bowing off the bed because it’s gotten so much. “C-can feel you so deep inside.”
Really, how could Geto even think about stopping himself from kissing down your arched back? Looping two strong arms around your waist to pull you impossibly deeper down his cock. 
“Ah! Oh my god- Suguru!” you keen as he falls back on his knees with you in tow, your back against his muscled front. Spreading your legs to fuck up so mindlessly into you. Jagged, long thrusts, bouncing you like a toy on his aching cock. Rough. “So much- so- ngh-”
Ah, your pretty little cries are just music to his ears. Fuck, he forgot how pretty you looked when you were all breathless and crying on his cock.
“Such a cute lil’ actress.” he coos, voice going up each time his heavy balls smack your ass. Fingers drawing such tight little circles on your throbbing clit. “Love these hah- pretty tears.”
“S-So mean, Sugu-” you’re choking as his thrusts get purposeful - calculated. Hitting that one magical spot he’ll never forget no matter what. Over and over and over while all you can do is cry out teary moans of his name.
Thigh quivering at the sheer stimulation, “Yeah- yeah, jus’ like that.” And oh Geto wishes he could taste down there, too. But instead settles for doing that later - getting those sweet, overstimulated tears out of you. “My gorgeous girl, cryin’ on my cock. Ngh- gonna cum f’me?” Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead - the complete opposite of his hips. “Gonna c-cry while you’re mm- cumming all over my cock?”
And as if he really really wanted to see it - Geto’s only getting sloppier. 
So embarrassing with the way he was whispering out sweet little degradations in your ear, guiding you closer and closer. 
So embarrassing with the way he eagerly watched all your minute reactions.
So embarrassing with how you cum exactly the way he wanted you to - teary and breathless. A quick scream of Geto’s name before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. 
Cunt clamping down so deliciously on his cock. So dizzying that you barely even register the hot tongue lapping at the fresh wave of tears.
“Ah, as perfect as I hah- imagined.” Geto grits out, sounding every bit absolutely wrecked. “Now I jus’ n-need to know if you’ll cry as much when m’filling you up.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just the tip.”
“Hngh- f-fuck, baby.” he whines into your open mouth, strong hands pulling your trembling hips impossibly closer to his. “J-jus’ a bit deeper- only a bit deeper, I promise.”
Ah, if only you weren’t split apart so deliriously on Choso’s cock you might’ve been able to actually form a coherent sentence to- what? Snap at him? Beg him for more?
You don’t even know at this point, because it’s been like this for so long now, and Choso promised it would be just his weeping tip. He promised it would be quick and he just “wanted to feel his girl’s pretty pussy.” Over and over again as he pushed your legs all the way until they were pressed against your tits, heels pressing into the mattress as he slides his massive cock even deeper-
“Cho!” you yelp, feeling the thump! thump! thump! of those prominent veins down the side rub against all the right spots. “You said-”
“I know I know, m’sorry.” he gasps. Brows scrunching as he nevertheless bullies his cock deeper inside your gummy walls. Choso’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful. Dropping his head to kiss your bruised lips, “M’sorry, jus’ a bit more. Jus’ a bit- hah- a bit deeper-”
And oh, he shouldn’t have done that. 
Shouldn’t have let himself that last bit of freedom, because he sinks only a bit more into your heavenly cunt - so dripping wet and milking the soul out of him - that Choso can’t help but think he wants more. 
“Baby…” Choso purrs hotly against your ear, hips thrusting in slow, shallow little grinds - and you already know too well what he’s about to beg for.
“Cho.” you groan, warningly. “You said j-jus’ the ngh- tip.”
“Awww.” he groans. So fucking pretty with his long hair undone, some strands sticking to his flushed skin. Eyes hazy and miles away as he looks at you through those long, dark lashes. “Jus’ a bit ngh- more? Promise I’ll pull out.” As if to support his case, one hand gently tilts your head up to press chaste pecks at the corner of your lips. The other starting to toy with your ravaged clit, “Please?”
And how could you say no to that? 
Especially not when Choso digs his knees deeper into the sheets, rock-hard cock dragging so agonizingly against your walls as he reels his hips back, back, back-
Splitting you apart all in one, harsh thrust. 
It’s all you can do to whine out a pathetic, “O-oh fuck- fuck! S’too deep.” The stretch too sinful, his cock too massive. Tears springing to your eyes as he immediately starts fucking you in quick, ragged movements - not even easing you into it like he usually would. 
“M’sorry, baby.” Choso sounds so fucking wrecked, voice as rough as his hips now. “M’sorry m’sorry. Promise I won’t cum inside. Jus’ a bit more- some- some more-”
And for all the remaining sanity you had left, you didn’t know how promises of “just the tip” turned into empty wishes that neither of you had the patience - nor the sanity - to fulfill right now. 
“Please.” you arch your hips off the bed - and nothing more has to be said, because Choso reads that lust-drunk little plea in your eyes. “Ch-Cho-”
“A bit more.” he lets out a humorless little laugh. Reaching above to lace his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down, down, down impossibly deeper onto his painfully hard cock in a pathetic little cadence to match his. “Jus’ a bit- more.”
It was driving him insane. 
And for all his apologies, Choso isn’t one bit shy when rocking his hips harder into yours. So bruising with the way he leaves marks on your waist, your tits, probably even your poor cervix. Whispering out mindless little promises of pulling out and nonsense about going “jus’ a bit deeper”.
“F-fuck, wan’ you to cum, baby.” The bed is creaking in protest as Choso picks up the pace so sloppily. Hips stuttering and uneven with how fucking good it felt - but hitting the right spots every time. His hands snaking down to roll your sensitive clit between his fingers again. “Cum f’me. Please?”
And it seems that Choso had a penchant for getting what he wanted. 
Because no sooner do the words leave his rosy lips, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. Blood roaring in your ears, mixing with Choso’s broken little praises as he fucks you through peak after peak of your high. 
Over and over and-
“Sorry-” your eyes snap open at that familiar little phrase falling from his lips. One that you knew didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Sorry sorry sorry-” Thrusting, once. Harsh. Twitching so wildly inside you that just one more squeeze and he’d be- “C-can I ngh- cum inside, baby?” 
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A lil’ show
It only takes that first, broken little moan escaping your swollen lips and you already know you won’t make it out intact - nor will Sukuna’s sanity, apparently. 
Because no sooner has that sinful noise left you, Sukuna’s eyes glaze over, jaw dropping so uncharacteristically into a soft oh! Aching dick twitching wildly inside you, hips stuttering against yours as he breathes out, “What was that?”
He doesn’t have the patience to wait for your response - instead, squeezing his swollen cock deeper, fucking all the air - and the words - out of you. 
Which, unfortunately for you, wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 
“Aww, c’mon.” the words are groaned into the crook of your neck, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to your dripping cunt. “Give me more ngh- of those-” Large hands tightening on your hips, shifting you around on where you were sat so prettily on Sukuna’s lap. “-pretty moans, brat.”
So that’s what he wanted.
And this was supposed to be something slow. Something lazy, and languid to get the king of curses off before that droning meeting today with his underlings - to take the edge off so that he probably won’t end up killing them all off.
Something it was not supposed to be was Sukuna spreading your legs so shamefully, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Trying to find the angle that’s just right to rip those cute lil’ moans out of you.
“C’monnnn.” he gives short, sloppy little thrusts up into your heavenly cunt. “Where is-”
Then suddenly you’re wrapping your arms tighter around Sukuna’s neck, “Ngh! Oh fuck-” Teeth digging into his muscled shoulder, hard - hard enough that it might’ve drawn blood if this wasn’t the king of curses himself. 
“Found it.” And it’s all that’s said before he’s reaching down to spread your puffy folds further, eyes flicking between your wobbling lips and the way your tight pussy was sucking him up so good. Watching the way his massive cock was disappearing in and out in and out in and- “What? Not gonna hah- scream my name anymore?”
“B-because, Kuna-” you gasp, face burning at the way your thighs tremble with the effort to pathetically to meet his unforgiving pace. “They- they’re close.”
Humming in amusement, “Who?”
“Them!” you’re keening - and both of you know you’re talking about those footsteps outside, the thought of Sukuna’s meeting weighing much more on your mind than his. So you’re limply grazing your lips against his, trying to muffle those whimpers falling from your lips. “They’re g-gonna ngh- hear?”
“So?”
You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - Sukuna’s response or the way he’s increasing his pace relentlessly. Trying to pull those sweet sweet moans from you, no care or concern for the ever-closing footsteps outside. 
“I don’t care.” he groans, back arching off the sticky seat of his throne to fuck up into your sloppy hole deeper. “You’re ngh- above them, y’know.” Bouncing you like such a slut on his cock, “So what if they h-hear?”
And God you don’t know who’s more fucked-out right now - Sukuna, who was speaking mindless little nonsense into your ear, or you. Whiney and a mess, tugging on his soft locks - a warning.
One that the man himself blatantly ignores, instead having one hand reach down to roll your throbbing clit between his fingers. 
“Hngh- fuck!”
The moan escapes you before you can bite down on Sukuna’s neck, right above his racing pulse to muffle it. 
“Heh,” shivers run down your spine as Sukuna’s chest rumbles with a laugh. Pulling your lolling head away to crash his lips against yours. Panting into your open mouth, “Sneaky. But they’re only getting closer and-” Rocking his hips harder. Bruising. “-m’only getting more impatient.”
And then he’s fucking up into you with reckless abandon. Smirk spreading at that little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hits that one spot. 
You’re sure that if whatever unfortunate soul was outside couldn’t hear your delirious moans then they could definitely hear the lewd slap of skin on skin. Fast, so unforgivingly loud. His fingers just a blur on your clit. Just taunting those little moans out of you.
You’re gasping at the sheer stimulation, “Y-you’re so-”
“So what?” Sukuna spits into your mouth, “Don’t start ngh- sentences ya can’t finish, brat. Though-” His sharp eyes flicker towards the door, much more aware than whatever hazy mess was left of your senses. “I don’ think you’ll be able f-finish any of them soon enough.”
Barely even giving you the chance to register his words, you’re tilting your head in confusion up at him and-
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Oh, shit. 
“Come in.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Blue blue blue!
It’s times like this - your blue lingerie almost in tatters, Gojo pushing you into such a tight mating press, filling up your poor pussy over and over - that you wonder when bones will start breaking.
Well, not that your boyfriend would mind either - he wouldn’t mind having to use a bit of reverse cursed technique on what was supposed to be a lazy little cockwarming session. Instead, too focused on how your cunt was sucking him up so good. His cum inside you so warm, the stretch so sinful, your lingerie too blue-
“Heh, what? C-can’t ngh- speak, sweetheart?” Gojo lets out a humorless little laugh. Fingers deftly hooking under your bra strap to give a sharp little snap! “You’re the one that a-asked for this, after ngh- all.”
“B-But, Toru-” you gasp, and it only has Gojo ramming his cock into you deeper. Awe-struck at how you were already so bloated with his cum, but still taking him so well. “Wasn’t on p-purpose-”
“This wasn’t on purpose?” And you know what he’s talking about - that barely-there fabric - the exact shade of his eyes. Only one glance at it had Gojo feeling like something snapped - possibly his restraint, maybe his sanity. Definitely you by the end of this. “This?” 
And you can’t even act coy - you don’t get the chance to. 
Because Gojo’s immediately got his hands everywhere. On your swollen breasts, your hips, the hem of your panties that he just barely had the patience to slide aside before stuffing you full. 
“Y-yes?” you ask, deliciously. Cunt clenching so sinfully around his throbbing cock in- fear? Anticipation? As he looked down so starved at you. 
“F-fuck. Ya shouldn’t have done this.” Gojo’s dragging his lips down your neck, soft. The exact opposite of how bruising his hips were of yours. “Oh, ya shouldn’t have done this-” Lewd curiosity getting the best of him as he dips his hand lower, pressing down just slightly on your lower stomach. “Because now,” Those blue eyes widening at the way his cum gushes down your legs, down his legs. “-m’not gonna let you go until I fuckin’ ruin these.”
And if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve almost laughed - because Gojo was acting like the soaked, flimsy fabric hanging around your body wasn’t already far, far past any salvation. 
No, he was fucking you like he was going to ruin them all over again. Tightening your legs thrown over his shoulders, folding you in half like some ragdoll as he bends down, down, down-
RIP!
You’re gasping at the sharp tear of fabric, one that you barely hear over the fucking obscene squelches from below. “T-Toru-” you squeal, ankles locking in warning. “These ngh- w-were expensive.”
“So?” And for all the world, Gojo has the audacity to sound so genuinely confused. Whispering a soft oh! as he angles his head just right to catch that sinful little tear in your panties. “Whoopsies.”
But, really, what your unregretful boyfriend was actually focusing on was how fucking illegal it should be for you to look this heavenly - legs shaky and limp, his seed forming a lewd little pool. Marked like you were fucking thrown to wolves, but, no, it was actually Gojo Satoru and he couldn’t fucking get enough-
“Five.”
The word comes out abruptly, strangled like Gojo himself was as bewildered as you as he suddenly blurts it out. 
And at your - fucking adorable - look of confusion, he’s kissing away the pout at your lips, murmuring hoarsely, “M’gonna buy you five more of these.”
That’s all that’s said before he’s only rocking his hips harder, feeling more of a fucking monster than he did when he was on the battle field. Wondering whether he’d have to buy a new fucking bed too with the way it was creaking under the pure power. 
And, well, it made some tiny, sadistic little part of Gojo delight to see the effect it had on you. Sweet moans of his name leaving your lips each time he draws rapid circles on your pretty clit. Hips fucking back down to meet his, so sloppy and needy - exactly the way he wanted you. 
“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re bucking wildly underneath him, “M’close- so fucking close.”
He knew - of course he did. If the way your gummy walls were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him was anything to go by. Clit pulsing in a maddening little thump! thump! thump! that set Gojo’s animalistic rhythm. 
“Cum f’me.” he pants against your open mouth. Fingers hurrying on your clit because he wanted - needed - this so badly. “Cum f’me cum f’me, wan’ feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart.” Needed to see if your tight pussy could take one more - to see if she’d overflow onto your poor panties again. “Cum f’me.”
“Ngh- fuck- Toru!”
And then you are - you feel it before you realize it. 
Just that white-hot electricity flowing through your veins, and your nails digging into Gojo’s milky skin. Leaving such angry red marks as you chase your high over and over and-
And Gojo wasn’t any better. Just barely having the sense to pull out as his balls squeezed so painfully and he’s painting your quivering pussy white. Thick rope after rope that the smug bastard purposefully smears all over your panties. 
So fucking filthy.
“Ten.” he’s groaning, and you already know what he means. “M’gonna have to buy you ten more after this.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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tender-rosiey · 2 months
Note
Your husband, sukuna AU, is driving me crazy. That's like my 1st time ever experiencing what a comfort fic was. I have been re-reading them like crazy 😭
If it's okay with you, can you do a husband sukuna AU but with whatever scene you want? I really love the way you write him,,, it's just so perfect 🥹
dry your tears — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: i am so glad you like them omg srsly you're too kind <33 i really hope you like this too 🥹🫶🫶
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“my lord, her highness requests your presence in the garden.”
said man’s eyes open slowly, and he narrows them at the servant who instantly kneels to the ground. he scoffs, “requests? she sure has become impudent.”
the servant trembles, “that’s how she worded it, my lord. I swear I have no role in it.”
“I didn’t speak to you,” sukuna replies as he gets up as places his foot on the servant’s head, pressing into the ground a bit more.
the servant whimpers but tries to be as quiet as possible.
sukuna warns, “and you’re to address her as ‘her highness’ or ‘the queen’ only. do you understand?”
“but—but I did?” he splutters.
“ ’that’s how ‘she’ worded it?’ ” sukuna sneers.
“I didn’t mean it that way! I am sorry! I am sorry! my apologies, my lord!” the servants chokes out, and sukuna takes it as the cue to kick him out of his way.
he starts walking towards the garden, while stretching and examining his surroundings.
the palace hasn’t changed in the time he was gone which was good. at least the human servants are capable of doing one thing right.
the gates to the garden open, and they reveal you.
deep down, the sight brings a bit content to sukuna’s heart, seeing you alive and well. however, that is a vulnerability that he would never admit, so he gets closer to you.
you’re giving him your back despite, definitely, feeling his presence.
he groans, “what do you want?”
“where have you been?” you reply with the same tone.
he rolls his eyes, arms folded on his chest, “fighting, obviously. I was passing time.”
he hears you take a deep breath before you speak up, “and you couldn’t tell me in advance?”
he can tell that you’re trying to sound calm and collected. yet, he still can’t pinpoint whether you’re angry or sad. either way, he believes that your attitude is unacceptable.
he chides, “don’t blow it out of proportion, and you have the nerve to ‘request my—"
“you have been gone for a month.”
the edges of sukuna’s lips quirk up just a little as he starts to understand why you’re acting like this.
“not the first time,” he hums.
he sees your shoulders raise slightly, and they seem to get tenser by the second. you speak lowly, “but you usually tell me before you depart.”
he closes his eyes in annoyance.
this looks like it will drag out longer than he prefers. what he expected when he returned was him spending time with you, his wife, not you giving him your back and seemingly lecturing him.
“stop beating around the bush,” he commands, “what’s wrong with you?”
you grip your kimono tightly in your fist and squeeze your eyes shut as you exclaim, “you had me worried sick!” your voice is watery and is shaky, but you couldn’t help it.
you had spent the past month alone, nobody knew of sukuna’s whereabouts not even uraume. were you supposed to just calmly wait for his return?
he may be strong, but is it always guaranteed? especially considering how the sorcerers are always planning a way to lead him to his demise.
you bite your lip as you hold back a sob. meanwhile, your husband quirks a brow, “you crying?”
you open your eyes and stand up abruptly, “no, I am not!”
throwing the hood over your head, you turn towards the other entrance and announce, “I am going inside!”
you start your march with determination, but as you get close to the gate, you hear your husband sigh and stop you by the arm. he pulls you towards him, tearing off the hood to take a good look at you.
your tears are not plentiful, but he can see their traces.
you frown and try to pull back, “let go, sukuna!”
he raises a hand to cup your cheek and squishes your cheeks like a pufferfish. your eyes widen, and you furrow your eyebrows in frustration.
“stop this,” you shoot.
he looks silently at you for a few moments, and it starts making you nervous. you finally decide to ask, but then he starts wiping your tears.
you blink in confusion as he lightly scolds you, “foolish girl.”
you register the insult after a few seconds, and it makes you frown and look away while grumbling, “shut up.”
you sniffle lightly and pull away from him. he looks down at you, silently watching you. you try ignoring his gaze, but then you just snap your head at him and huff, “what are you staring for?”
you study his face for bit then falter, “if it’s about yelling at you then I am sorry, okay? I was frustrated and—”
he pinches your nose, making you yelp.
“your worrying is unnecessary,” he says slowly, “I will always come back.”
sukuna, you realize, is comforting you. he lays a hand on top of your head and commands you, albeit gently, “so stop crying.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or I will send my cat after you
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rafesslxt · 4 months
Note
slytherin boys hc realizing they were to rough after an argument and comforting you?😭🙏
thank u for requesting, have fun reading <3
✧.*𝑺𝑳𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 | 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾
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characters: mattheo riddle, tom riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy
warnings: fighting, arguing, fluff, mention of make up sex, so a bit smut
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Mattheo Riddle:
let‘s be honest, he would definetly take a moment to realize he actually hurt your feelings
his pride and stubbornness would be in the way at first
but when he sees the first tears rolling down your cheeks he slowly walks towards you giving your forehead a kiss while hugging you tightly and swiping your tears away with his thumb
"I am so sorry princess, I swear you‘re right. I didn‘t mean it like that, you know that, right? I love you so much I would never want to hurt you on purpose. Can you please talk to me again, baby?"
he would pull you onto his lap and rock you slighty while whispering sweet things into your ear telling you how sorry he is and that it won‘t happen again
Mattheo would just cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe have make up sex with you If you‘re not too mad at him
"I‘m gonna show you how sorry I am princess." he would be a MUNCH and eat you out, never stopping no matter how sensetive you got.
"Want me to stop? Come on baby, one more just one more I promise." his tounge would flick relentlessly over your clit over and over again, his green ties around your wrists making it hard to protest.
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Tom Riddle:
bro would try to manipulate you at first and tell you you‘re overreacting and too sensetive but when you leave the room and don‘t try to reach out to him for a few days..
you got his head spinning
maybe he would wonder why you‘re ignoring him until he remebers your fight which he almost forgot because it was so unimportant to him
i think he would try to get closer to you so you had to talk to him
but when you still wouldn‘t and he notices the hurt in your eyes, he would wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper in your ear how sorry he is
he couldn‘t believe he really spoke these words but you meant too much to him to loose you over an stupid argument he couldn‘t even remember at first
"How difficult was that for you?" you ask when your little frown on your fave disappears and is switched with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and presses you against him, still whispering in your ear.
"Don‘t try your luck too much darling." While his fingers squeeze your sides
100% rough make up sex where he would punish you for not talking to him
"Fuck you think you can just ignore me? Act like I‘m not there?" while he pounds into you from behind, pushing your face down into the pillow.
"What was that darling? Couldn‘t hear you over all the noises you make."
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Theodore Nott:
I have a splitted opinion on Theodore to be honest
on one side he would be the sweetest and comfort you right away without thinking twice about it
but on the other hand I also see him giving you a cold shoulder, also too stubborn and ignorant to realize how much he hurt you
but on either side, when he then would notice how you ignore him he would so something romantic to make it up to you
I just see him with a picnic prepared outside at the lake with your favorite snacks and a plushy for you.
"I‘m so sorry cara mia you mean the world to me, I never meant to hurt you. Please let me male it up to you."
After the picnic and you forgiving him he would pin you down, not giving a fuck who would see you If walking mear by
"Theo! Everyone could see!" you struggle against his fingers on your clit. "hmm let them see how sorry I am principessa."
he would pussy your skirt up and eat you out like Mattheo but without the whole overstimulation
when you come for the first time he wouldn‘t hesitate or waste any time to pull down his pants and fuck you next to the lake
"Fuck we should argue more often If that‘s the outcome of it. Me pounding your tight little pussy amore." You would shoot him a glare but moan his name right after, eyes rolling back
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Lorenzo Berkshire:
He would be THE sweetest ever
but also he‘s someone who try‘s to stay calm during fights but then when he is really mad, he just explodes without thinking
as soon as he sees the first tear rolling down your face he would walk over to you and hug you so tight you almost couldn‘t breathe.
"God y/n I am so so so so sorry I swear it will never happen again! Shit I‘m so stupid I don‘t even deserve you baby."
when you would forgive him and already forgot about the fight you two had, he couldn‘t stop thinking about it.
he was just so sorry he had to show you somehow so the first thing that came to his mind was buying you something you wanted since forever
a fucking puppy
"Enzo! Oh my god you did nooot!" you said in a whiny tone about to cry from happiness
"No no no princess please don‘t cry I can bring him back If you don‘t – " "What? No!" you take him out of his hands and look down into it‘s cute face "thank you thank you thank you!"
after the day went by and you two got everything you need for your new baby, you wanted to thank your boyfriend
"Oh – fuck yes." he‘d groan while you ride him, bouncing up and down "Bloody hell I‘ll give you a whole damn zoo If that‘s what‘s going to happen after." he says while gripping your hips and fucking right up into your thankful pussy
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Draco Malfoy:
he didn‘t know what to do at first, your cold shoulder towards him felt like a knife in his chest even tho he knew he deserved it
he said some things to you in an argument he wasn‘t proud of, too ashamed when he knew you only wanted the best for him
The only thing he knew was showering you in gifts which would work with little things but not this. You wanted him to apologize with real words.
after days of giving you gift after gift he realized for himself that it wasn‘t going to work.
"Darling? Do you have a minute?" he would ask to which you just nod slighty
He would take a deep breath before speaking " I am sorry for what I said. I truly am. And I never should have said that to you or let my frustration out on you I‘m really ashamed of what vame out of my mouth when everything you wanted was just the best mor me."
It felt like a stone fell from his heart after speaking what he had thought for days and your happy face told him it was just what you wanted to hear
"Shit y/n –" he groans when you take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him with innocent eyes.
"Just wait what we‘ll do after that pretty boy." you chuckled before taking him back knto your mouth and sucking him for dear life.
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thank u for reading I hope u liked it 🫶🏻
taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @danaeneocleous @sagetakami [if you wanna be removed tell me 💞]
xoxo sarah <3
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theosbaby · 1 month
Note
Brother’s best friend!theodore smut please!! Super soft!dom Theo where he makes LOVE to reader. Perhaps shy!reader as well??
thank you so much for your request! i really loved this idea. i'm sorry that it took me so long to write this, but i've running low of inspiration lately. i hope you like it babe!
𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...
brother's bsf!theo taking your virginity
NSFW content ahead, +18
you can't believe you're actually making out with the theodore nott, sprawled on your brother's bed with theo between your spread thighs. his lips are avidly kissing yours, playful tongue delving inside your warm mouth as his hands roam over your gorgeous curves, fingers gripping your sides to tug you as closer to him as possible, not leaving even an inch between your bodies.
and you swear you're on cloud nine.
you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his while you grasp his dark t-shirt between your slender fingers, the sweet flavor of your chocolate birthday cake still lingering on your plump lips as you return the messy kiss with equal fervour. the act is almost sinful —you're mattheo's little sister, for god's sake. not that he cares about it right now, anyways, not when your body molds itself so perfectly to his, like you were made for each other.
theo groans into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your backside to hoist you up against him. you gasp against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel him grinding against the junction of your thighs, his own breath hitching as he feels your warmth through his jeans.
your pretty cheeks flush at the intimate contact between your heated bodies, your lips becoming sloppier as you struggle to keep up with him. this is the first time you're actually making out with a guy like this, and you're feeling embarrassed, nervous and excited all at once, which is kinda overwhelming.
he'd notice how your body slightly tenses beneath him. not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, he slides his hands back to your hips to give them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure you. he doesn't want to rush you if you're not ready —but oh how bad he wants to fuck you.
the kiss comes to an end, leaving you panting against his swollen lips, agitated. the way you find his deep set, blue eyes looking down at you when you open yours, makes you feel weak on your knees, the blush on your face deepening. he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes glazed with lust as he brushes your long, soft hair out of your beautiful face.
"you okay, pretty girl ?" he'd ask, his voice husky, just to make sure you're not regretting what's happening. "are you enjoying this?"
the pet name he gives you makes you smile. "yeah," you whisper coyly in response, nodding slightly while your pearly white teeth sink into your bottom lip, which is a bit swollen from all the kissing.
"good," he murmurs against your mouth, "because i'm really enjoying it too." he pauses, his breath warm against your lips. "i was thinking maybe we could... you know... take things a little further?" he leans in and starts kissing your neck softly. "would you like that?
your heart starts hammering in your chest at his words, butterflies fluttering about crazily in your tummy, but you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your throat despite your nervousness.
"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?" he reassures you softly, his hands squeezing your waist soothingly.
he continues planting gentle kisses on your neck, feeling you relax little by little against him. you let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.
"i wanna do it," you admit, not being able to look into his eyes as you do, blushing, "just... don't tell anyone about this, my brother can't know."
you feel him smirking against your throat as he stops rhe gentle kisses, cupping your face to make you look at him; there's sincerity in his eyes as he says, "i won't, pretty girl."
"pinky promise?"
you'd extend your pinky, waiting for him to intertwine his finger with yours. theo smirks as he tenderly rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek, and he tangles his pinky with yours. "i promise."
he keeps kissing you for a bit more, caressing you over your clothes and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, before he starts undressing you with such care, as if he's afraid of breaking you. and you look so pretty while you're naked beneath him, just like a precious doll.
then, he'd spread your creamy thighs and ask for permission to touch you, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous pussy of yours, which is fucking soaked just for him, your juices dripping down your pink slit and onto mattheo's sheets —that fact has him painfully hard inside his pants. is he a perv? probably.
he's taking his time preparing you, thumb rubbing your puffy clit in tight circles while he plunges his thick, long fingers in your pussy. you're so fucking tight he struggles to push the first one in without hurting you, but after a few minutes, you're taking two of them like a champ, completely soaking his hand in your arousal when you finally cum on it.
theo can't take it anymore, seeing you so flustered and hearing your sweet little moans have him on the verge of bursting in his pants like a bloody teenager, so he withdraws his digits to start taking his clothes off too, and you whine at the loss. but the feeling of emptiness doesn't last long, soon he's pushing his thick cock inside your little cunt.
you're so slick that he slides in pretty easily despite the resistance of your tight walls, his dick stretching you a lot wider than his fingers. and it hurts a bit, but it's a sweet pain that has you whimpering as you beg for more. after a few thrusts, you're cock drunk underneath him, nails digging into his back and leaving scratches that he'll have to hide from your brother for the next few days.
he actually gets you to cum on his dick too, pussy milking him so good that he doesn't even have time to pull out. he spills inside you with a whimper, pounding sloppily into your spasming cunt to ride his orgasm as he stuffs you full of his cum.
more.
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hellishjoel · 25 days
Text
wild like the west
3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader
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summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!
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It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 
Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 
Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.
He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 
Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 
You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 
“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.
You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 
“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 
“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 
“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 
His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”
A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 
“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.
“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 
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The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 
The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 
“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 
“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 
“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 
“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 
All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”
Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 
The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 
Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 
“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”
Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 
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The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 
“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 
He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 
So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 
“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”
Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 
Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 
“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 
“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”
Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 
He settles on the truth. 
“We are sleepin’ together.” 
Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 
Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”
You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 
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Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.
But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 
Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 
The ranch was his dream.
He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 
Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 
Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  
Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 
But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 
Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 
The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 
He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 
Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 
“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 
“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 
He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 
You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 
Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 
“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 
“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 
“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 
“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 
Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 
Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 
“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 
You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.
You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 
The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 
“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 
Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 
“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 
“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 
Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 
“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 
Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 
What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?
Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 
Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.
“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 
“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 
 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”
And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 
And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 
Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 
“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.
Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 
Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 
“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 
The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 
“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 
“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 
Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.
“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”
You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 
Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 
“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 
“G’night, pain in my ass.” 
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pucksandpower · 1 month
Text
Lovefest
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought that adjusting to Formula 1 would be the biggest challenge of his rookie season … no one warned him that being around you and Lando would somehow both traumatize and make him believe in true love at the same time
Based on this request
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Oscar steps into the bustling McLaren garage, his eyes darting around as he takes in the flurry of activity. It’s his first day in the paddock wearing papaya and he’s eager to make a good impression.
As he weaves through the mechanics and engineers, he spots Lando chatting animatedly with a woman he assumes must be Lando’s girlfriend.
Approaching the pair, Oscar puts on his friendliest smile. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you, mate.”
Lando turns, his face lighting up. “Oscar! Welcome to the team.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is my girlfriend. Babe, this is Oscar, my new teammate.”
You extend your hand, smiling warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Lando’s been talking about you non-stop.”
Oscar shakes your hand, chuckling. “All good things, I hope?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you assure him. “He’s really excited to work with you this season.”
Lando nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, mate. It’s gonna be epic. We’re gonna crush it together.”
Oscar grins, already feeling at ease. “That’s the plan. So, how long have you two been together?”
The moment the words leave his mouth, he notices a few nearby mechanics exchange knowing glances and stifle laughter. Lando and you, however, seem oblivious to this as your eyes lock onto each other.
“Well,” Lando begins, his voice softening, “it’s been about two years now, but honestly, it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”
You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you. But really, Oscar, from the moment we met, it was like everything just clicked into place.”
Oscar nods politely, not quite understanding the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together.”
“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Lando says, his eyes never leaving yours. “She’s my soulmate, my best friend, my everything.”
You giggle, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “You’re such a charmer. But he’s right, Oscar. We just ... we get each other, you know?”
Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but Lando cuts in, “Remember our first date? I was so nervous I spilled my drink all over myself.”
“Oh my god, yes!” You exclaim, laughing. “But it was adorable. And then you tried to clean it up and knocked over the candle ...”
“Nearly set the whole restaurant on fire,” Lando finishes, grinning. “But you didn’t run away screaming, so I knew you were a keeper.”
Oscar shifts uncomfortably, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment. He glances around, hoping to catch someone’s eye for help, but the other team members seem to be purposefully avoiding their corner of the garage.
You turn back to Oscar, your eyes shining. “Sorry, we got a bit carried away. It’s just, when you find that person who completes you, it’s hard not to gush sometimes.”
Lando nods sagely. “Absolutely. Like, did I tell you about the time she surprised me after a race in Monaco?”
Before Oscar can answer, you jump in, “Oh, Lando, I’m sure Oscar doesn’t want to hear about that.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Oscar says weakly, trapped by politeness.
Lando grins, oblivious to Oscar’s discomfort. “So there I was, exhausted after the race, and I walk into my hotel room to find it covered in rose petals and candles ...”
As Lando launches into the story, Oscar notices a mechanic nearby making frantic ‘cut it out’ gestures. Confused, he tries to catch the man’s eye, but the mechanic quickly busies himself with a nearby toolbox.
“... and then she steps out of the bathroom in this gorgeous dress,” Lando continues, his voice filled with awe. “I swear, Oscar, my heart stopped for a second. She was like an angel.”
You blush furiously. “Lando, stop it. You’re embarrassing me in front of your new teammate.”
“I’m just telling the truth,” Lando insists. “Oscar, mate, when you find someone who makes your heart race every time you see them, even after years together, you know it’s real.”
Oscar nods, desperately searching for a way to change the subject. “That’s ... that’s really sweet, guys. So, uh, Lando, how’s the car feeling this season?”
But Lando seems to be in his own world now, gazing adoringly at you. “You know, speaking of the car, it reminds me of how supportive she’s been throughout my career. Remember that time you stayed up all night with me before a big race, just talking and calming my nerves?”
You smile softly. “Of course I do. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“And that’s why I love you so much,” Lando says, pulling you close. “You’re always there for me, through the highs and the lows.”
Oscar watches, bewildered, as the two of you seem to forget his presence entirely. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Daniel Ricciardo approaching, a look of amused resignation on his face.
“Hey, Oscar,” Daniel says quietly, coming to stand beside him. “I see you’ve made the rookie mistake of getting these two started.”
Oscar turns to him, relief evident in his voice. “Daniel, thank god. What’s going on? They’ve been like this for ages.”
Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, mate. You’ve stumbled into the Lando and Y/N lovefest. There’s a rule around here: never get them talking about how much they love each other, or you’ll be stuck listening to them being lovesick for at least an hour.”
Oscar’s eyes widen in horror. “An hour? But ... but we have the first testing session soon!”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Daniel says, patting Oscar on the shoulder. “Once they get going, there’s no stopping them. It’s like a force of nature.”
As if to prove Daniel’s point, Lando’s voice rises slightly as he recounts another story. “... and then, on our anniversary, she organized this incredible scavenger hunt all around London ...”
You chime in, your voice equally enthusiastic. “Oh, but Lando, what about the time you learned to cook my favorite meal just to surprise me?”
Daniel leans in close to Oscar, whispering, “See what I mean? They’re in their own little world now. Best to just let it run its course.”
Oscar watches, fascinated and horrified, as Lando and you continue to trade stories and loving glances, seemingly oblivious to the world around you. The garage bustles with activity, mechanics and engineers working around the loved-up couple as if this were a regular occurrence.
“So, uh, how long does this usually last?” Oscar asks Daniel, his voice tinged with desperation.
Daniel checks his watch. “Well, you’re about fifteen minutes in now. I’d say you’ve got at least another forty-five to go, minimum.”
Oscar groans. “But what about testing? Shouldn’t someone ... I don’t know, snap them out of it?”
Daniel laughs, clapping Oscar on the back. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Many have tried, all have failed. It’s best to just let nature take its course. Think of it as your initiation into the team.”
As if on cue, Lando’s voice rises again. “... and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”
You gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Lando, do you really mean that?”
“With all my heart,” Lando says solemnly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, on or off the track.”
Oscar turns to Daniel, a pleading look in his eyes. “There has to be something we can do. Anything!”
Daniel shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, there is one thing that sometimes works ...”
Before Oscar can ask what he means, Daniel cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey, lovebirds! Last one to the track buys dinner for the whole team!”
As if snapping out of a trance, Lando and you both turn, suddenly aware of your surroundings again.
“Oh, shoot!” Lando exclaims. “Testing! Come on, we can’t be late!”
As Lando rushes off to get ready, you give Oscar an apologetic smile. “It was lovely meeting you. Sorry if we got a bit carried away there.”
Oscar watches, dumbfounded, as you hurry after Lando. He turns to Daniel, who’s wearing a self-satisfied grin.
“And that, my friend,” Daniel says, “is how you break the spell. Welcome to McLaren. I’m just happy they’re your problem now.”
As they head towards the track, Oscar can’t help but shake his head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. It’s going to be an interesting season, that’s for sure.
***
Several months into the season, the McLaren garage buzzes with anticipation. It’s race weekend, and the team has invited a popular podcaster to get an inside look at their operations. Oscar, now comfortably settled into his role as Lando’s teammate, watches with mild interest as the podcaster, Mike, bounces around the garage, microphone in hand, eyes wide with excitement.
“This is incredible!” Mike exclaims, his voice carrying over the din of mechanics at work. “The energy here is just electric!”
Oscar chuckles to himself, remembering his own first days with the team. He catches Daniel’s eye across the pit lane, and they share a knowing smirk.
Mike continues his tour, interviewing various team members, his enthusiasm never waning. Oscar keeps one ear on the conversations while focusing on his pre-race preparations. Everything seems to be going smoothly until he hears the fateful words that make his blood run cold.
“So, Lando,” Mike says, his voice dripping with curiosity, “I couldn’t help but notice your lovely girlfriend here. You two make such a cute couple. How about you tell us a bit about your relationship?”
The entire McLaren garage falls silent. Tools clatter to the ground. A collective groan rises from the team members. Someone in the back yells, “No!”
Oscar feels his chest tighten, his eyes already beginning to water. He looks around desperately, seeking an escape route, but he’s trapped between his car and a wall of mechanics who have frozen in horror.
Lando’s face lights up, oblivious to the panic around him. “Oh, mate, where do I even begin? She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”
“No, really,” Lando insists, turning to face you fully. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about her.”
Oscar watches in mounting dread as the familiar scene begins to unfold. He catches Daniel’s eye again, silently pleading for help, but Daniel just shakes his head, a look of resigned amusement on his face.
Mike, unaware of the can of worms he’s just opened, leans in eagerly. “That’s so sweet! How did you two meet?”
“Well,” you begin, your eyes never leaving Lando’s, “it was at a charity event. I was volunteering, and Lando was there as a guest ...”
“And I saw her from across the room,” Lando interjects, his voice soft and reverent. “She was helping an elderly gentleman to his seat, and the way she smiled at him ... I swear, it was like time stopped.”
But Lando and you are lost in your own world now, the podcaster forgotten as you gaze into each other’s eyes.
“I remember thinking,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “who is this adorable guy in the McLaren jacket?”
Lando grins. “And I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you all night. I must have walked past your station a dozen times.”
“Thirteen,” you correct him with a giggle. “I was counting.”
Mike looks around, confused by the reactions of the team. He catches Oscar’s eye and mouths, “What’s happening?”
Oscar, his eyes already glistening with unshed tears, just shakes his head frantically. He tries to sidle away, but his movement seems to draw Lando’s attention.
“Oh, Oscar!” Lando exclaims. “You should have seen her that night. She was wearing this beautiful flowy dress that matched her eyes perfectly.”
You laugh, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. But Lando looked so handsome in his suit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him all night.”
Oscar feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Daniel standing beside him, a sympathetic look on his face. “Breathe, mate,” Daniel whispers. “It’ll be over ... eventually.”
Mike, still oblivious to the situation, presses on. “So, what was your first date like?”
The entire garage seems to groan in unison. Oscar feels a tear escape and roll down his cheek.
“Our first date,” Lando says dreamily, “was at this little Italian restaurant. I was so nervous I could barely eat.”
You nod, your eyes sparkling with the memory. “He was adorable. He kept knocking things over and apologizing.”
“But you were so patient,” Lando adds. “Even when I spilled wine all over the tablecloth.”
“Because I could see how genuine you were,” you reply. “How kind and funny and passionate.”
Oscar, unable to take it anymore, turns to Daniel. “Please,” he whispers desperately, “make it stop.”
Daniel pats his back comfortingly. “I know, buddy. I know. But you know the rules. Once they start, there’s no stopping them.”
Mike, finally sensing that something is amiss, tries to steer the conversation back to racing. “So, uh, Lando, how do you balance your relationship with your career?”
But Lando is too far gone now. “Oh, she’s the most supportive partner I could ask for. She’s there for every race, every triumph, every setback.”
“Because I believe in you,” you say softly. “In us. In what we have together.”
Oscar feels another tear roll down his cheek. He looks around the garage, seeing the mix of resignation and amusement on his teammates’ faces. Some have plugged their ears, others have found suddenly urgent tasks to attend to far away from the love-struck couple.
Mike, now looking slightly panicked, turns to Oscar. “Uh, Oscar? Any thoughts on ... on teamwork?”
Oscar opens his mouth to respond, grateful for the lifeline, but Lando beats him to it.
“Teamwork!” Lando exclaims. “That reminds me of the time we decided to cook dinner together for our six-month anniversary.”
You laugh, the sound light and musical. “Oh god, what a disaster that was!”
“But it was perfect,” Lando insists. “Because we were together.”
Oscar feels his knees go weak. He leans heavily against his car, Daniel’s steadying hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright.
“How ... how long?” Oscar manages to croak out.
Daniel checks his watch. “Only twenty minutes in, mate. We’ve got a long way to go.”
Mike, now fully aware that he’s lost control of the interview, looks around helplessly. His eyes land on a senior mechanic, silently pleading for assistance.
The mechanic just shakes his head. “You brought this on yourself, kid. Rule number one around here: never ask about their relationship.”
“I didn’t know!” Mike protests weakly.
“None of us did, the first time,” the mechanic replies sagely. “Consider this your initiation.”
Meanwhile, Lando and you continue your love-fueled reminiscence, oblivious to the chaos around you.
“Remember our first vacation together?” Lando asks, his eyes shining.
You nod enthusiastically. “That little cottage in the countryside. It was so peaceful.”
“Except for when we tried to go hiking and got completely lost,” Lando adds with a chuckle.
“But it led to that beautiful hidden waterfall,” you remind him. “Where you told me you loved me for the first time.”
Oscar lets out a quiet sob. Daniel, still by his side, pats his back sympathetically. “There, there, mate. Let it out. It’s healthier that way.”
Mike, looking increasingly desperate, tries one last time to salvage the situation. “So, uh, about the upcoming race ...”
But Lando and you are in full swing now, trading stories and loving gazes, completely lost in your own world.
“And then there was the time we went to that cooking class together,” you say, giggling at the memory.
Lando groans good-naturedly. “Oh god, I nearly burned down the kitchen!”
“But you made the most amazing chocolate soufflé,” you remind him.
“Only because you were there to guide me,” Lando says softly. “You always bring out the best in me.”
Oscar, his face now streaked with tears, turns to Daniel. “How ... how did you deal with this?” He asks, his voice hoarse.
Daniel shrugs. “You have to learn to find the humor in it, mate. And maybe invest in some good noise-canceling headphones.”
Mike, realizing he’s fighting a losing battle, slumps against a nearby workbench. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”
The senior mechanic nods sagely. “Yep. But don’t worry, kid. We’ve all been there. Give it another ... oh, forty minutes or so, and they’ll run out of steam. Maybe.”
As if to prove him wrong, Lando’s voice rises again. “Oh, and remember that time we went stargazing in the desert?”
You nod enthusiastically. “How could I forget? The way the stars reflected in your eyes ...”
“It was nothing compared to the way you light up my world,” Lando replies, his voice thick with emotion.
Oscar, unable to take it anymore, slides down to sit on the floor, his back against his car. He draws his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly as he mutters, “Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”
Daniel crouches down beside him, patting his shoulder. “There, there, rookie. It’s all part of the McLaren experience. You’re doing great.”
Mike, looking shell-shocked, turns to the senior mechanic. “Does this happen often?”
The mechanic chuckles. “Often enough that we’ve developed a whole system to deal with it. See those guys over there?” He points to a group of team members huddled in a corner, passing around a packet of earplugs. “They’re the smart ones. Always come prepared.”
As Lando and you continue your lovefest, the rest of the garage settles into a strange sort of routine. Some team members go about their work, seemingly immune to the ongoing spectacle. Others gather in small groups, sharing knowing looks and suppressed laughter.
Oscar, still on the floor, has progressed from quiet sobs to a sort of resigned hiccupping. Daniel sits beside him, offering silent support and the occasional reassuring pat.
Mike, having given up all pretense of conducting an interview, slumps further against the workbench. “I just wanted to talk about racing,” he mumbles dejectedly.
The senior mechanic laughs. “Lesson learned, kid. Next time, stick to lap times and tire strategies.”
As the love-fest enters its second hour, Oscar finally looks up, his eyes red and puffy. “Does it ever get easier?” He asks Daniel plaintively.
Daniel grins, helping Oscar to his feet. “Nah, mate. But you do develop a certain appreciation for true love. And maybe a slight tendency towards nausea.”
Oscar manages a weak chuckle. “I guess there are worse things than witnessing too much love.”
“That’s the spirit!” Daniel says, clapping him on the back. “Now, how about we sneak off for a coffee while these two finish up their romance novel?”
As they make their way towards the exit, carefully skirting around Lando and you (who are now recreating your first dance together, much to Mike’s bewildered amusement), Oscar can’t help but shake his head.
“You know,” he says to Daniel, “when I joined McLaren, I thought the hardest part would be the racing.”
Daniel laughs. “Oh, Oscar. The racing’s the easy part. It’s surviving the Lando and Y/N love story that’s the real challenge. But hey, look on the bright side.”
Oscar raises an eyebrow. “There’s a bright side?”
“Sure,” Daniel says with a grin. “At least now you know what true love looks like. Even if it does make you want to cry and vomit at the same time.”
As they exit the garage, leaving behind the sound of Lando and you laughing and reminiscing, Oscar can’t help but smile. It’s been a strange journey, but he wouldn’t trade his place on this team for anything in the world.
Well, maybe for a good pair of noise-canceling headphones.
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nejiverse · 1 year
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‘FAMILY’ REUNION
Douma, Akaza, Kokushibo
In which Y/n sees everyone again after a long time. Based on the scene in the infinity castle. Fem! Reader
cw: nothing really, our boys here have a soft spot for y/n, suggestive if you squint really hard, reader is upper rank 2 and everyone else is pushed down a rank except for Kokushibo
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"Where's my Y/n-chan~", Douma whined, looking around the infinity castle.
"Your Y/n?", Akaza clicked his tongue. "She doesn't even like you".
Gyokko nodded to the corner. "She's over there taking a damn nap", he shook his head at her hopelessness. "Upper rank two my ass".
Douma looked at where Gyokko was nodding towards where he saw Y/n, who was sleeping in a fetal position with her hands tucked against her chest.
Douma snickered with a hand up to his mouth. "I know what'll wake her up!".
The blondie approached her and squatted down.
His hand gripped her jaw, gently squeezing her cheeks which caused her mouth to fall open.
He proceeded use his index and middle finger to prod her mouth open before sliding them into her mouth.
Douma giggled as Y/n furrowed her brow as he stuck them all the way to the back of her mouth.
Once Y/n felt his sharp nails graze her throat, he eyes fell wide open, only to be met with Douma's sultry smirk that she knew all to well flashing down at her.
Y/n bit down hard on his two fingers. Really hard. To the point where she bit them off.
"Ouch Y/nn!", Douma frowned albeit his fingers regenerating immediately after.
Y/n sat up and let out a yawn before observing her surroundings. Everyone was here now except Muzan. She stretched her arms up, making her kimono fall off her shoulders a bit.
"You're so mean to me!", Douma sulked.
"Oh my sincerest apologies lord Douma!", she exclaimed, standing up and clasping her two hands together. "I'm not sure what came over me, but I should know my place", she inched towards the man, her chest against his and her eyes locked on his own, a pleading look plastered on her face while Douma looked down at her in amusement.
"I'd do anything for your forgiveness!", a grin slowly grew on her lips as she relaxed her eyebrows. "...Is what you would've wanted me to say, right?".
She laughed and backed away from him, the fact that his smug look was still plastered on his face annoyed her. "I'll leave that to your cult members".
Douma narrowed his eyes. "Got quite a mouth on you, don't you? Someone should teach you what to do with it".
Gyokko scoffed. "I can't even tell if they're flirting or arguing".
Y/n decided it was best to ignore Douma's comment and her eyes brightened upon seeing Akaza.
She enveloped him into a hug that made him unsteady on his feet, a blush immediately coating the apples of his cheeks.
"Akaza! Long time no see”.
Douma folded his arms childishly as Akaza looked at him with an overconfident, smug look as he spat his tongue out. Everyone knew Akaza was her favourite.
Despite this, poor Akaza was still weak to the touch of any woman.
“Oh yeah, I got you a present”, Y/n reached into her kimono, Akaza averting his gaze at anything else he could find.
She lifted his arm from his side and opened up his palm, placing the box into his hand.
“Open it! Open it!”.
When he did just that, he blinked at her. It was a hairpin.
“Are you sure this is for me?”, he sweatdropped.
“Of course it is! It goes with your hair colour so I got it for you”, she took it out of the box and stuck it in his hair.
Akaza smiled sweetly moving to stand behind her smaller figure. He took the hairpin out of his hair and put it in hers.
“I appreciate it but I believe it’ll look better on you”.
“Aw but lord Akaza, it suits you! It really brought out your eyes too~”, Douma burst out into laughter, holding his stomach.
“Don’t piss me off”, Akaza seethed between his clenched teeth. Suddenly, Douma’s bottom part of his face was destroyed by Akaza’s fist.
Douma smiled as his face regenerated. “Whoa! That was some punch! A bit stronger than before, would you say, lord Akaza?”.
*splat*
The same fist Akaza used to hit Douma was severed by Kokushibo.
“Akaza”, he spoke. “You always go too far”.
“lord Kokushibo!”, Y/n bounced happily around him.
Kokushibo turned his head to her and brought his hands up to her chest, fixing her kimono so that it was up over her shoulders again.
“You shouldn’t let your kimono slip down like that, you’re a lady”.
She placed her hands on her hips. “Alright dad”, she mocked before smiling again.
“Aw it’s like a family reunion seeing all of you again!”.
“W-where have you been all this time?”, Hantengu asked.
Y/n hopped onto Kokushibo’s shoulders, patting his head which took the demon’s by surprise at the fact that he was allowing it.
“It’s a secret”, she brought a finger up to her lips.
It was evident that Muzan had arrived when Kokushibo lifted Y/n down and teleported back to where he was sitting originally.
“Family reunion over!”.
Masterlist :)
a/n: also the last episode was a damn masterpiece, as an anime only for demon slayer i was genuinely scared nezuko was gonna die 😭
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sttoru · 9 months
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your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.
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you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.
“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”
he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.
you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”
satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.
“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.
satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.
“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.
“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.
little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.
the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”
that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.
not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.
his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”
. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.
“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.
the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.
“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”
there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”
you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.
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screampied · 7 months
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gojo had a dream you died.
it was partially the reason why he woke up in a cold sweat… it was horrid.
he could still hear your screams, the life leaving your eyes, but more importantly, he remembered your final words that were murmured to him. “satoru, don’t… cry, i’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” and he believed you, that everything would be okay. despite tears filling his eyes, labeled the strongest at that moment, he couldn’t have ever felt so weak.
the dream felt so real, that was the scary part. he remembered each and every detail. from the feeling of you giving his wrist a light squeeze, the sweet smell of your natural scent.. the eerie sounds of your irregular wheezes as you were clinging on your final moments.
“don’t leave me,” he mutters, he remembers saying that. three simple words, yet his dilated pupils spoke a thousand. he started to repeat it. again and again as if it was a mantra. his words, his tone broke the more he spoke to you. that cute smile of yours never left your lips, it remained there. regardless of your inevitable incoming fate, he sobs, “you’re…you’re all i have left. i don’t wanna be left alone again, just stay. please, baby.”
“i’m not going anywhere, ‘toru,” you’d reassure him, a single tear drop of his falls onto your cheek.
after that moment, gojo wakes up. trembling, yet the dream wasn’t that feared him the most. it was him waking up with you not next to him..
cold, everything felt cold.
he shot up immediately from his dream. the cold sweat that forever continued to race down his back as he panted.
he was so used to your warmth taking up part of the bed. albeit, in this case though. it felt empty,
isolated.
it was near the middle of the night, gojo was drowsy, rubbing his eyes to blind his vision with imaginary stars. feeling for the bed, it was frigid.
“baby?” he’d grumble, white lashes partially open. silence called back to him, if it was anything about gojo, he hated being alone.
oh, he loathed it,
yet whenever you came into his life—he didn’t have to worry about that. you were always besides him, no matter what.
until now.
it takes him a split second before it dawns on him. your fatal death, it wasn’t another one of his silly surreal dreams. it was nothing but mere reality.
a breath gets caught in his throat once he realizes, being brought back into harsh realness. you were gone.
it’s been years, speaking of which…
it was your anniversary with him. the same exact day he proposed to you. he remembers it vividly, getting down on one knee with the goofiest grin. he didn’t even say, “will you marry me..?” instead, he snorts a sheepish, “let’s get married, heh.”
“i always forget around this time,” gojo sighs to himself with a soft tone, his voice was a bit raspy from abruptly waking up. intaking a sharp inhale, he goes towards your side of the bed and he reaches into his pocket.
“it should have been me,” and he doesn’t even care he’s talking to himself, it’s like for whatever reason, your presence was near him. “our marriage,” and then with a brief sniffle, he glances down at the ring you once wore proudly. he strokes it with a thumb before huffing out a shaky, “our marriage, it was supposed to last us for infinity…”
but it didn’t.
with hot tears streaming down his face and stuck a power he wished he’d never have, in the end, it couldn’t save you.
he couldn’t save you.
and now…
the strongest, the most brave to ever live and walk could easily be mistaken as the weakest.
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youryanderedaddy · 4 months
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When Life Gives Lemons
tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude
You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.
“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.
“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.
“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”
“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 
My girl knows how to set me
on flames she goes through 
the motions of the wind she
is a fireball, a fireball, on fire
“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”
The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 
“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.
“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”
“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.
“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.
“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 
“Goodbye, Axel.”
***
You meet him sooner that you’d like.
Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 
Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.
You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 
“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.
He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.
“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”
Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 
“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 
“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 
“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.
“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”
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pseudowho · 5 months
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Cunt-Drunk
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18+, MDNI, just a filthy little drabble...
For @delirious-donna , my Higuruma brainrot muse
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Hiromi didn't often go out with his colleagues. But one week, duty called, and he was obliged to attend karaoke and drinks with his firm's new clients. He was going to be out for hours. It was a Saturday night, and you were off too, and he was absolutely incensed because--
"They said no spouses allowed! Can you believe it?" Hiromi ranted, clattering around the kitchen in a strop, shoving scattered files into his briefcase, "It's almost like they think I'd spend the whole evening talking to you, and squeezing your thighs under the table, and--"
"--well let's be honest, Hiromi, you would--"
"--and who could blame me, really--"
"---Hiromi it's just one night, I won't be doing anything interesting anyway, just go, and have fun, and send me videos of you doing karaoke--"
Hiromi scoffed, clipping his briefcase shut, "I do not do Karaoke."
He stood staring down at you, straight, and tall, and serious for a moment. You bit your lip, barely hiding a smirk. Hiromi slumped dramatically, his face crumpling into a look of abject despair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and nose, head tipped back.
"...do I have to?" He whined. You did not answer. You simply sidled up to him, straightened his tie, and pulled him down by it, pressing a kiss of promise to his lips, so prophetic that he moaned into you.
You whispered against Hiromi's lips; "Off you go, my brave soldier. Have a drink or six for me."
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You worked your way through the usual bottle of Shiraz that you and Hiromi shared on a Saturday night, but, without him there, being drunk just felt sad. You took yourself to bed, in just one of his shirts fished out of the laundry, and fell asleep in the thunk way that only drunk women do.
You woke in the small hours of the morning with a jolt, feeling yourself dragged down the bed by two strong arms looped around your thighs. You squeaked, reaching down and tangling your fingers in a familiar shock of grey-streaked black hair.
"I-- Hiromi--" you started, mumbling and half-asleep. You heard a giggle from between your legs.
"Shhhh," Hiromi slurred, and giggled again. You heard a p-tuu, and felt a glob of warmth, slippery-wet, dripping down your labia. With little warning, Hiromi lathered his tongue between your folds, and you cried out, your body still sizzling with the wine.
"...missed you," Hiromi whined, nuzzling between your puffy folds, "...wanted...to see you...our S'day night...ruined...s'boring without you..."
"--Hiromi--" you panted, dazed and disoriented, "--just come to bed--"
"Shhhhhh," he whispered again, loudly, "m'fine...right here...pull m'hair...jus' hold onto somethin'..."
Hiromi ate your pussy without remorse, without restraint, as drunk as could be, and fucking the bed in his sloppy, rumpled suit. Hiromi moaned, pornographic and dirty, every time he fucked his twitching, aching length against the sheets.
Still suckling your clit between his lips, Hiromi reached down to hook his cock up to press against his belly, his cockhead frictioned deliciously between his black happy trail and waistband.
You had never been eaten out in a way that was so primal, with Hiromi fucking his tongue into your heat, massaging the area around your clit with his liquor-soaked lips, and rolling his tongue over the hard little pearl of your clit until you almost blacked out, your nerves stripped bare by the shock and wine.
Hiromi was rough, looping his arms over your thighs and dragging you back to his mouth every time you mewled and tried to crawl away from him. He'd respond with a sharp nip to the inside of your thigh, and an admonishing look, before rubbing his face savagely from side to side over your sopping cunt and clit, growling into the wet mess he'd made of you.
As you squirmed and yanked the roots of his hair, clamping your thighs around his head, Hiromi mumbled into your pussy, focusing his tongue and lips on your clit before abruptly sliding three bunched, long fingers into your hole, fucking you hard and fast with them until he felt your silky sweet spot.
Hiromi fucked the bed in time, imagining in his drunken stupor, that the wet squelches and frantic cries from you, were from his cock slamming in and out of you instead.
"--c'mon baby...in m'mouf, cum in m'mouf...good girl, so good, s'good...gonna cum...m'gonna cum...fuuuuckkk, shit--"
Dragging you with biting, sucking, growling urgency through your orgasm, Hiromi came in tandem; his ruts into the mattress, and his pitched, desperate moans became slower, and softer, as his seed poured out under his shirt, soaking the white fabric, sticky and cloying against his twitching belly.
His fingers still inside you, his nose and mouth still between your folds, face-down on the bed as you came down from your absolutely feral high...you heard a snore.
Rising on shaking elbows, you looked down the bed. Cum-soaked, drunk, and sticky with your arousal, Hiromi snored soft, drunk snores into your pussy.
In the morning, you showed him the photo you took of him, this way, before watching the video Hiromi's colleague sent you of him singing old rock songs while the whole karaoke bar cheered him on.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3
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suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.
you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”
“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.
suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.
“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.
“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”
“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“this time i mean it.”
“no you don’t, sugu.”
“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”
“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.
his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.
“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”
“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”
“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.
“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”
“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.
you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.
“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”
“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”
“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.
“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”
“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.
right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.
“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”
“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”
“are you only dating me for my hair?”
“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”
“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”
“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.
“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”
the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.
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come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie
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