#yeah he have style warming up

[alexiroflife]

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim] summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history. notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 13,024 others

ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩

view all 1,654 comments

username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there

ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!

landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(

ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷‍♂️ landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ? oscarpiastri You're funny.

landonorris

liked by mclaren, ausgp, and 811,364 others

landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)

view all 7,023 comments

oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think

landonorris ever heard of playing the long game? oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again

username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her

username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS

maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for

ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉

username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))

ynusername oh wtf

liked by ausgp, yourfriend, and others

ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)

view all 89 comments

yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes

ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them yourfriend well yes!

username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??

ynusername i was one of them!

username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg

yourfriend "the shoe lady" ynusername i've been titled?????

ynusername

liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others

ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)

view all 112 comments

yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho

ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch

username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?

username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!

landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?

username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando username10 bro STAND UP ynusername weird in an interesting way landonorris i'll take that

landonorris

liked by ynusername, ausgp, and 1,011,023 others

landonorris melb, you have my ❤️

view all 8,327 comments

username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL

username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers

georgerussell63 You're welcome

charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch ausgp Where's our credit?? georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down. ausgp He what???

username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones

danielricciardo ?? oscarpiastri No ynusername :// landonorris 😁😁

ynusername you're cool ig 🙄

landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing

tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime @ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version

request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Tribe X Reader

Requests are open!

• You were a camera woman for discovery channel. You loved your job. After all you get to travel world with your crew, see and explore the most interesting wonders, and get paid to shoot all of that in camera. What more can you ask for? Yeah your love life sucked because you were never at a one place for long. But who cares? You have your camera and your passion.

• Your crew has been assigned to shoot a new show by channel which is showing and telling people about the tribal life and community of an x forest. You were excited.

• You shooted and captured all the things about the tribal community. The people were friendly once they warmed up to your team. They showed and told you everything about their community, about forest, their lifestyle through a member of yours who knew their language and translated everything.

• You got to know about many tribal traditions, rituals, festive, their beliefs, their worships, hunting, farming style but what caught your attention was a certain tall, muscular young tribe man.

• He would always be with your crew even if he is not needed. You were shooting a particular episode on the womens in tribe? He was still there silently just observing you all especially you in a way you didn't notice.

• Your crew tried fishing for some fun in break time. And as usual your clumsy self would trip and ruin everything embarassing yourself. He would later leave a basket full of fish for you silently.

• You noticed that he was kinda good looking. Okay not kinda but a lot good looking with his huge built, dark black tribal tattoos covering his tan arms and chest, his sharp bone jewellery giving all Tarzan vibes with his long black hair tied in half bun that many women in community wished to be his mate. Also because he was a excellent hunter.

• You once told someone in community casually that you wished to taste raw natural honey from honeycombs like other tribals but were scared due to honeybees and he heard it. Well next day he gives you a huge piece of honeycomb anonymously ,freshly teared by him even though it caused him serval stinks from honey bee because this was not the season to collect honey but he would do anything for you.

• Their community had a practice where once in a year men would wear their best dresses, jewellery trying to impress womens and get their attention. This was a special episode that you weren't shooting but the other cameraman was doing because you were on the other side of forest with a few crew members shooting some shots of forest for another episode as your time of departure were close and you have to finish your work fast.

• You finished your shots. And walked a bit around the forest a little more to explore while your fellow mates moved back to see the celebration.

• You saw yan tribe sitting all alone under a tree. You felt sad seeing him all alone like this instead of being in the celebration with others. Well might be the women whose attention he is trying to grab chose someone else in competition you thought.

You tried to console him by speaking in your broken fluency in their tribe language which you have learned by staying with them for months. You were scared that you might have said something offensive to him unconsciously due to the language barrier because his expressions didn't change but became serious.

He only looked up at you and held your hand in his and said "MATE". You knew your speaking and listening skills towards his language were below average but you were 101% sure what mate word that he said means. And that scared you to dead because seeing his big strong hand holding your fragile one tightly made it clear that he is not going to let you leave at any cost.

Want part 2? Let me know through comments.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[snailpebbles]

Simple Misunderstanding- OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend! reader

Summary: You couldn't both be this stupid right..? Oscar is telling you you're dating, but he never even asked you out.

Pure fluff, absolute idiots in love <3

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

You and Oscar have been best friends since highschool when he (not surprisingly) was on the verge of failing Physics from missing so many tests. Since those tutoring sessions you've been inseparable.

You've always had a thing for him, which you would deny until your death that hopefully takes place beside him, Bicentennial Man style. The problem is.. he's a world famous Formula One driver and you're what? Still studying for your degree? No, you could never deserve this sweetheart of a man. Even if you style his hair most days and he rubs your back to help you fall asleep. Just friendly things.

Now we're brought to your current predicament.

"What're you doing..?" Oscar mumbles out in confusion as you begin to lift your head from where it rested on his chest. You freeze on the spot, peering up at him from below his chin.

"Uhm.. getting up?" You whisper for no real reason, suddenly feeling like a caught child. Oscars eyebrows furrow and he pushes your head back down while muttering a quiet yet firm 'no'.

"Wha- what do you mean 'no'?" You scoff, feeling more akin to an annoyed teen now. You go to lift yourself up properly but now his arms, previously wrapped around your waist and rubbing your back, are anchoring you down.

"Stay." He simply says, his eyes closing as he plans to return to his half asleep state. Those plans are interrupted as your hands wiggle down to tickle his sides. He yelps and releases you on instinct, which you take as a chance to launch out of bed.

"What are you doing??" Oscar groans, groggily sitting up now with a petulant pout. You return the question, hands on your hips as you stare at his sleepy form.

"I'm trying to cuddle my girlfriend." Oscar huffs, crossing his very muscular arms. Silence stretches between the two of you, making Oscar actually open his eyes fully to take in your extremely shocked expression.

"What's that look for?" He asks, reaching for your right hand in a need to hold some part of you. You let him as you're still trying to understand what exactly he just said and if he's on drugs.

"Girlfriend?" You choke out, your mind going a million miles per hour as you sputter, matching your racing heart. Oscar raises his eyebrow at you like you're an idiot.

".. Yes. You're my girlfriend? For quite some time now?" He chuckles, standing up now. His arms wrap back around your waist as he smiles fondly at you, you. Are you dreaming? Maybe your heart is giving out.

"Since uh, since when am I your girlfriend?" You stammer in disbelief, his expression shifting to mirror yours. His head tilts in confusion, squinting at you.

"Did you hit your head or something?" He murmurs, lifting a hand to jokingly check your scalp for any bumps. By this point you must be burning up with how warm you feel.

"We're not dating." You manage to get out finally, Oscars hand pausing mid caress. It slides down to cup your cheek, his mouth now downturned.

"Yeah we are- we've been together for months now." Oscar shrugs, squishing your face in his hands. He shakes your head side to side and you laugh, placing your hands over his as you ask what he's doing.

"Trying to shake those screws back into place." He teases, rolling his eyes.

"I think I should be doing that to you. You've never asked me out before, so where did this come from?" You chuckle, not able to feel that stressed in his presence and especially not when he's cradling you like you're a precious diamond. (Which to him, you are). Oscar laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

".. I have to ask??" He mumbles, making you snort in laughter. Your head drops, forehead pressed to his shoulder as your own shake in silent giggles. Oscars face, neck, and ears are bright red at this point as he stammers, trying to save face.

"Yes! You have to ask! How did you even think otherwise?" You snicker, rolling your eyes affectionately at your oblivious boy. Oscar smiles in embarrassment, looking off to the side. Though it isn't long before his eyes are drawn back to the irresistible sight in front of him. You're practically glowing with an unrealized joy, your subconscious recognizing your returned feelings.

"I just assumed cause you- well-" He sighs, groaning at his own stupidity. A grin spreads across your face and you tap his cheek, bringing his focus out of his head.

".. I don't know." He finally admits, pout returning full force. It's a beautiful sight to see the typically stoic or calm Oscar looking so flustered, just for you. It sends a thrill down your spine that you're quickly becoming addicted to.

"We've never kissed or had sex, or honestly anything besides cuddling!" You exclaim, very glad to have such fantastic teasing and blackmail material that will last you years to come. Just wait until Lando finds out.

"I thought you wanted to take it slow, so I never initiated anything." Oscar explains, his cheeks a delicious shade of red. You have to take a moment to appreciate the sight and snap out of the daze it puts you in.

"Well how about you ask me out then now, hm?" You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek that short circuits his brain and yours. The goofiest grin spreads across his face and he drops to one knee, grasping your hand in his.

"Will you, my dearest love, do the honor of allowing me to be your boyfriend?" Oscar asks dramatically, taking a moment to swoon. Seeing him at such an angle, regardless of his stupidity, you still need to drink in the sight of the brunette boy on his knees. For you. Asking you out after years of pining.

God it is beautiful.

"Hmm.. yeah, sure." You shrug, feigning nonchalance even though you're internally squealing. Oscar stands up, putting his hands on his hips in a sassy display. He grins, a mischievous grin which you quickly realize is not something you wanna see.

"Oscar no-" Your sentence barely gets out before you're tackled on the bed, face being peppered by soft kisses. It tickles, giggles erupting from your lips as he murmurs incoherently against your skin. You're a mess of limbs, your leg is already going numb, and you've never been happier as your hands inch up to play with his hair.

"You're missing." You manage to say in between giggles and over the top kissing noises from the boy on top of you. He finally relents, holding himself up on his forearm beside your head.

"Oh really? Wanna show me where to go?" Oscar murmurs, his breath fanning across your awaiting lips. You mumble some teasing jab about boys always needing directions, making him tickle your sides to shut you up.

"Okay, okay I give up!" You laugh, pushing at his hand. He stops tickling you and as soon as you've caught your breath, his lips are on yours. They're warm, slightly chapped, and oh so perfect. He kisses like you're the finest food on Earth and it's his last meal. Both of your heads feel fuzzy as you pull away for some air, noses bumping and mutual giggles filling the silence.

"So.. wanna go back to sleep?" You suggest, the very short yet aggressive emotional rollercoaster exhausting you once more. Oscar nods eagerly, head collapsing to rest in your neck where he occasionally kisses the skin his lips can reach. A warm feeling spreads over you as you tug the blanket across your tangled bodies, dozing off into the most restful sleep of your life.

[brewed-pangolin]

Early morning workout Johnny who makes it a habit to run by your house every day at the stroke of 9.

He's got your routine down to a science. He's not a creep, he just likes a schedule. As do you.

He knows you'll be out on your porch by 8:45 with your cup of coffee. Just in time to watch him stride down through your cul-de-sac like some muscle wrapped machine.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Giving him a courteous wave, to which he politely returns with his own and million dollar smile. Sipping your warm brew, his sunlit silhouette disappearing in the distance to turn down the next street.

Except it all changes one fateful morning.

You weren't on your balcony. No coffee mug on the table. Not a single shred of evidence you had been home at all, other than the car in the driveway.

He makes one circle. Then another.

And another.

After the fourth, he's running low on fumes and you're still nowhere in sight. And amidst the fog of a draining runners high, he miscalculates his steps and smashes chest first into your mailbox.

Hurdling down with a thud, a few choice explatives that alert the neighbors and jolt you from the sleep you had been so deep within on your couch.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?" You call out, swinging the front door open. Hair a messy mop. Shirt warn and wrinkled and a thick crease running along the circumference of your cheek.

Soap is nothing more than an apologetic mess. Battling with a mud ladened 2x4 and peppered with an array of junk mail and enveloped bills.

"M'good, lass. M'good."

"You sure? That mailbox is basically destroyed. You must have hit it pretty damn hard."

You reach down, giving him a hand up to which you are given the strongest grip you have ever felt. Playing off a wince with a smile, letting your eyes take him in while he brushes off a layer of dirt and grass.

"Aye. Bulldozed straight into it. Sorry bout tha'."

You have off his apology, taking a gander at the damage and mentally beginning to plan out the finances to fix it.

"I can get ya a new one. If ya let me."

His deep brogue interrupts your thoughts. Raising a brow and a hand to block the bright morning sun.

"No, don't worry about it. It's an easy fix."

"Nah. Please. It's the least I can do, lass. Besides. I am the one at fault ya know."

You hesitate only for a moment. The blue of his eyes mirrored by the sunlit sky behind him. Feeling a certain pull towards him, as though those morning waves had cemented a bond that was only beginning to solidify in the morning sun.

"Okay."

"Aye? I'll be back after yer shift. 530 right?"

You push aside the fact that he knows your work schedule as he reaches out for a friendly handshake. His grip less firm, more cordial. Gentle, even.

"Yeah."

--

After an unremarkable shift that you wish to push deep into your memories, you sit out on your balcony with a refreshing drink in hand. Taking in the hard determination of your mailbox destroying neighbor as he singlehandedly hammers it into the ground.

You had offered to help, to which he emphatically responded with a solid 'no'.

"You've got good taste."

Your seal of approval is all he needs. Taking a welcome cold beer from your hands with that million dollar smile and a final hammering to cement the pillar into the soil.

"Thought it'd fit the style a yer home. Glad ya like it."

You begin to realize this runner is a man who misses nothing. His choice of mailbox color not too dissimilar to the one of your preferred coffee mug. The shade matching almost perfectly, only shifting in hue by the extravagant sunset.

"You hungry?"

Your politeness thankfully overshadows the sudden flush erupting within your chest. You'd blame it on the alcohol if he asked, but you know he'd see right through it.

Dinner starting innocently at the table, shifting seamlessly towards the living room and finishing the main course in your bedroom. Coming to a close in a cacophony of growls, moans, and the aroma of sex.

The pièce de résistance being the loud creak of the bed, falling to the floor in a heap of laughs and entangled bodies as he broke your walls and nestled himself into the chasm of your soul.

Under the Blue Moonlight Masterlist

Drabbles Masterlist

[dioll]

୨ 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙 — 엔하이픈 형들 ୧

𓂅 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 ・（𝑓）𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𓍢 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ⊹ 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𖥔 𝟧𝟢𝟤 ┊ 𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒 ࿐ | 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾

𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋，𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.. ♡

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌

wearing heels is a blessing and curse. feeling like a pretty princess, until your feet start aching.

you and heeseung exit from a cafe. making your way to his car, to go to your next destination, which is the park. you can feel your feet pulsing with pain, cursing yourself for your poor choice of footwear.

heeseung is quick to notice your discomfort, picking you up and carrying you to his car. he gently places you onto the passenger seat.

“let me guess, your heels?” he asks whilst his arm rests on the door of the car.

“yeah, it’s okay though. don’t stress.” you say as you give him a light smile.

“give me one second.” he says before he opens the trunk of the car, walking back to you with a pair of soft slippers in his hand. he bends down to remove your heels, sliding your new shoes on your feet.

as he gets up, he places a soft kiss on your forehead before gently closing the door.

rest under the cut ^_^

𝐉𝐀𝐘 — 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

jay adores your hair. regardless of the length, style, or texture, you’ll always have him caressing and playing with it.

head laying on jay’s lap as he detangles your hair with his fingers, moonlight reflecting on your face through the open sunroof. the ambiance is perfect.

he opens a large box, filled with hair accessories.

“do you want a bow or a plain clip?”

“bow, please.” you reply politely as you slowly rise from his lap, allowing him to wrap the bow around the strands of your beautiful hair.

“my pretty girl.”

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 — 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌

your eyes are extremely sensitive to sunlight, which results in you carrying a pair of sunglasses everywhere you go.

and of course you forget to carry it on your drive with jake. the sun-rays beaming onto you, making you to cover your eyes with ur hands.

jake glances at you, before single handedly opening the compartment in front of him, reaching out for a pair of prada glasses, with your name engraved on it.

he hands them over to you whilst his eyes remain fixated on the road ahead of him. you smile and thank him whilst setting the glasses on your face.

it’s the way he never fails to melt your heart.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍𝗌

there’s one thing that your body can’t handle. that being, the cold winter atmosphere. often getting sick due to any type of frigid temperature, you always make sure that you’re dressed warmly, in hopes that you don’t freeze to death.

today, was one of those ultra-cold days. nothing could’ve prepared you for the subzero-like climate. even though your clothes were layered, goosebumps and shivers remained on your skin. nose leaking, knowing that you’ll have to deal with being sick for the next few days.

fortunately for you, sunghoon gently wipes away the mucus from your nose, before grabbing a thick blanket from the backseat. he secures the blanket around your figure, also ensuring that his car heater keeps you warm.

maybe you wouldn’t get sick after all.

♡・ @copyhanni @jwsdoll @flwrstqr @cupidhoons @moknu @onlyjjong @jlheon @lcvclywon @junislqve @amouriu @jjunae @hyeinism @nishislcve @luvlyhee @ohmydollie @jongocat

[s0dium]

Monster Fucker

Monster Form!Sukuna x F!Reader

A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here

Synopsis: You are losing your mind from being fucked by monster form Sukuna

Warnings: DOUBLE PENETRATION, two dick four arms Sukuna, cream pie, dub cob, heavy detail, rough sex, sub space, nipple play

~

If heaven existed, this was surely it. And if someone could wield such euphoric pleasure and power over you then surely they were a god, and that had to be Sukuna.

"Hnghhh, please I cant -kuna-" Tears rolled down your face and dripped onto the white sheets below as you choked back a sob, kneeling on your hands and knees like a dog. Your poor cunt fluttered and squeezed Sukunas cock making the pink-haired curse chuckle. He is not even moving right now but the stretch alone has pleasure rippling through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

“Awwww you poor thing" Sukuna snickers darkly, pressing his second dick against you asshole. Two of his hands are on your tits, tweaking and flicking your nipples with his index finger in fast up and down motion, making your pussy quiver from the euphoric stimulation. He slightly leans down to let a glob spit hit the tight hole, smearing the gooey liquid with the tip of his dick on your ass hole.

"Scream my name for me okay?" Sukuna murmurs into your ear before thrusting his second dick inside you. You let out a choked scream at the feeling of his thick hard member forcefully spreading your tight insides, and oh my god you have never felt so fucking full in your life right now. On one hand Sukuna's dick is stretching your cunt and pressing against your gspot, the sweet spot that you only dream about hitting with your fingers. On the other hand, your brain is overcome with the entirely new feeling of getting stuffed from behind, and boy, the stretch and heaviness of it inside you has you gasping for breath.

There is no warning when Sukuna reels his hips back, both dicks almost leaving both of your holes before pushing back in, filling you up in a way you could never dream of. The warm tingly sensation that had previously formed at the base of your cunt was now spreading like wildfire with the penetration and friction from your ass acting as gasoline. You needed more, that one thrust wasn't enough you needed Sukuna to devour you.

“Please, I- Hngh- I want m-more!” you sob, and you dont even have to turn around to know that Sukuna is grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah? You want more?" He laughs and while continuing to play with your nipples, one his hand drops down to your clit to rub tight fast circles on the sensitive nub. "Who am I to deny you."

The next couple of second are a blur as he ruthlessly fucks you doggy style. It is a primal, brutal display of intimacy that has your thighs quivering.

“Nghhh, f-fuck me pleaseeeeee” you begged, hips long gone from doing any work, only allowing yourself to have both of your holes fucked like a flesh light. You cant breath, so much as think, each breath you take deepens the sensation, sending electric flesh arrows of pleasure across your body leaving your skin hot and tingling.

“You hear this? You hear these sounds?" One of Sukuna's hands grabs your hair and pulls you up right so you are no longer on your hands, now you are just on your knees, but he continues to fuck you from behind. "Your fucking dripping, dirty slut," He chuckles and from the corner of your eye you can see his tattooed skin move into a grin.

You are loosing your mind at this point and oh God, you were drooling. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and you were becoming lost in the rhythmic pap pap of Sukuna's skin against yours. The feeling that was forming in your core was starting to blossom, it felt as if every cell in your body was pulsating in harmony, carrying you closer to a state of pure, ecstatic release.

You wonder if you’re dreaming. It feels euphoric, being completely immersed by Sukuna's entire being - filled to the brim with him, surrounded by his large muscular body, his searing skin, his deep voice filling your ears.

"You want to come? Oh I know you do, come on~" Sukuna taunts you as he fucks you from behind. The combined friction and stimulation of both holes has your eyes rolling back and legs shaking with the upcoming orgasm.

Suddenly it hits you.

The muscles in your stomach clench and your feelings of pleasure some to a euphoric beautiful crescendo. Your tongue falls out of your mouth and your mind goes blank from the high of the feeling. With a light groan of his own, Sukuna creams into both of your holes; a ring of the white liquid forming at the base of the cock thats in your ass from to the tight fit, and the other shooting hot heavy loads deep into you.

Yes, this is surely heaven.

[enkvyu]

“babe i messed up, we gotta go bald.”

“no!” you grab onto the electric buzzer and fight against him, holding gojo back. “wait, let’s think this through!”

“look at my hair, it’s horrible! i can’t go out like this!” your boyfriend whines and though he resists your pull, you know he isn’t putting force behind the gesture.

“you look…” you yank your eyes away from his head, suddenly struggling to look at him. “fine.”

“you paused!”

“it’s fine, gojo!”

“it’s not! if my lover can’t even look at me without laughing, what are my students going to think?” gojo checks himself out in the mirror of your apartment's bathroom, turning his head side to side to observe the lousy slash he had given himself.

“their opinion of you can’t go any lower.” you reassure him. “and it’s fine, really. just, put down that shaver, that’s it, put it down on the counter and i can fix your mess for you.”

gojo gives you a wary look but eventually relaxes his hold. you pick up the shaver and the handle is still warm from his touch. turning it on, you let the hum of the device fill the silence.

after gojo had decided to abandon his glasses for a blindfold, he realised simply letting his hair grow out in whatever direction would not cut it anymore, else he wanted to look ridiculous.

when he complained to you, you absentmindedly told him to get a haircut without thinking of the consequences of your actions. of course gojo wouldn’t just go to a barber, of course gojo would think he could style his own hair and of course gojo would pick the worst haircut, making the first move without another thought. and now, after running the shaver a few centimetres up from the nape of his neck, the both of you realised that he should never be allowed near a electric shaver ever again.

you exhale. "okay, i've got this."

gojo looks at you through the mirror. "don't stress. worst case scenario, i can just buzz everything off."

you stare at him. "i cannot love you if you're bald."

"seriously?"

"what's with the look? would you love me if i was bald?"

gojo doesn't even hesitate. "yes!"

that makes you feel guilty. you don't comment on the topic any more, instead channelling your attention to the shaver in your hands and the white hair above your boyfriend's head.

“hey, don’t ignore me. you wouldn’t love me if i was bald? what’s next, you wouldn’t love me if i was a worm?”

you bite your lip to stop your face from contorting into a grimace. “i’m trying to focus here.”

“and i’m trying to make sure there’s still love in our relationship.” he turns around and looks at you. “do you love me?”

looking at him, a small smile slips through your disgusted expression. your boyfriend was regularly annoying, but there were times when his childish behaviour was more endearing than irritating. this was one of those rare times.

“yeah, i do.” you admit.

“prove it.”

“huh?”

his hand closes around yours, the one holding the buzzer. “i’m going bald.”

“no you’re not!”

“this is my hair, i get to decide what to do with it!”

“gojo!” you quickly reach over and unplug the shaver. “let’s be rational!”

he looks at you with bleary eyes. “i love you.”

“me too, which is why i can’t let you go bald.”

“you’re lying. if you loved me, it wouldn’t matter how much hair i have on my scalp.”

you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. when you peek through your fingers, gojo is still giving you a wounded look. “okay fine, i would still love you if you went bald. it honestly doesn't matter to me, but is this what you really want?”

“and if i was a worm?”

you look away, busying yourself with tidying your already tidy sink. “are you going bald or not?”

“answer my question.” his hand wraps around yours. “you can’t leave here until you give me a response i can accept.”

you try to shake him off. “i’m not backing down on this, i will not love you if you turned into a worm.”

“i would—”

“no you wouldn’t! how would you kiss me if i was small and slimy?”

he pauses. “i don’t need to kiss you to show my love, it’s just a side benefit.”

“okay, and what about our species difference? what if i find a handsome worm and fall in love with him? he would treat me better since we’re both worms.”

“i would keep you in a cage so that you'd never meet another worm.” he says, completely serious.

“is that what love means to you?”

“i’ll fill the cage with all your favourite things!” he brings your hand up to his cheek and presses against it, littering kisses onto your palm when you don’t react. "it's also to keep you safe! you'd be completely defenseless as a worm."

"well, if you were a worm i wouldn't be able to keep you safe. you're the strongest, if you can't protect yourself then how could i?"

"that's something different. i wouldn’t be the strongest, i would be a worm."

"an unlovable one."

he drops your hand and grabs the electric shaver before you can. "i'm going bald."

you don’t stop him this time. “fine, go ahead. but when you’re hairless i am not taking the blame for this. if you even start to complain to me i will plug both my ears and walk away. that means if your students take photos of you and spread it like the plague, i won't stop them.”

“i knew it.” gojo says after a moment’s silence. “you don’t love me anymore.”

“if there was ever a time that i did.”

“when did you start falling out of love?”

this was slowly getting out of hand. “gojo.”

“when i ate your chcolate? i apologised, what else do you want from me? want me to kneel?”

“gojo!”

“is it because i used your expensive skincare? i was curious because it came in a little pipette thing and i wanted to squeeze it real bad.”

you hiss. “i knew that was you.”

“you seriously believed me when i told you it wasn’t me? we live together and we live alone, who else would it be?”

a humourless chuckle escapes your lips. perhaps gojo detects your intentions before you can act on them with his six eyes, because he freezes, backing up against the edge of your sink.

in his fear, you yank the shaver out of his hand and flick the power switch back on. the buzz fills the air.

“you’re going bald.”

“i was just kidding! i don’t want to be bald!” gojo leaps out of his chair and heads for the door. unfortunately, you grab onto his shirt and pull him back.

when gojo walks out of your bathroom a few hours later, his head is lighter than when he first entered.

sped wrote this so i could post smth it’s so stupid i’m crying

[xo100]

Airport - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris offers a woman, who missed her flight, a ride on his private jet to Monaco. They bond over light conversation and flirting, leaving with the possibility of seeing each other again.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1323

୨ৎ

The race weekend had been long, grueling, and filled with adrenaline. Lando Norris was ready to head back to Monaco, to the comfort of his own home where the sound of engines could be swapped for the quiet of the Mediterranean breeze. As he made his way through the airport, sunglasses perched on his nose and his cap pulled low, he weaved his way through the flow of people without drawing too much attention to himself.

It wasn’t until he neared the private terminal that he noticed something out of the ordinary: a young woman standing near the gate of a commercial flight to Monaco, her expression a mix of frustration and panic. Lando slowed his steps, curiosity piqued. She stood there, gazing hopelessly at the closed gate, gripping her passport tightly. Her bags were tossed haphazardly by her feet as though she’d raced through the airport only to fall seconds short of making it to her flight.

The sharpness of disappointment etched on her face was all too familiar. He’d been in similar situations before, dashing through airports, missing flights by mere moments. Only, she didn’t seem to have the luxury of a private jet waiting just down the hall like he did.

Lando hesitated. He didn’t know her story, but something about the way she stood there, looking so defeated, tugged at him. He glanced at his watch. His jet was leaving soon, but he still had time. And, well, maybe this wouldn’t be the worst idea. What was the harm in offering a bit of help?

He pulled his cap down a little further and crossed the distance between them, moving casually as though he were just another traveler making his way to his flight.

“Missed your flight?” he asked, his voice light but laced with concern.

She turned to look at him, startled at first, then quickly took him in—cap, sunglasses, and all. Recognition flickered in her eyes, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Just a flicker.

“Yeah,” she breathed out with a weak chuckle. “By about three minutes. They wouldn’t let me through even though the plane is still sitting there.”

“That’s tough,” Lando said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Where you heading?”

“Monaco,” she said with a shrug, though it seemed like a more resigned gesture. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the next one.”

Lando nodded, glancing around the terminal. The airport was buzzing with the usual chaos, and he could see the stress rolling off her shoulders. He thought for a second, then made a split decision. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I’m heading there too,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got a private jet leaving soon. If you want, you can take the flight with me.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and her lips parted slightly, a mixture of surprise and hesitation crossing her features.

“A private jet?” she asked, a little skeptical. “Isn’t that...a bit much?”

Lando laughed softly. “Maybe, but I’ve got plenty of room. Plus, you look like you could use a break from airport stress. I promise it’s less chaotic than commercial flights.”

She blinked, clearly processing his offer. The idea of getting onto a private jet with a guy she just met—even if he was Lando Norris—probably wasn’t something she had expected when she woke up that morning.

“That’s...really kind of you,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “But I couldn’t—“

“Sure you can,” he interrupted, his tone teasing but warm. “Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You miss your flight, and instead of waiting around, you get to fly in style. How often does that happen?”

She laughed at that, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “When you put it like that…”

Lando grinned, taking her hesitation as a positive sign. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? You get to Monaco an hour earlier, and we both get some company for the flight. No need to sit around waiting for the next one.”

She looked at him again, weighing her options. He could see the internal debate playing out in her eyes—logic versus the sheer spontaneity of his offer. Finally, she sighed, her lips curling into a tentative smile.

“Alright,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Why not? But I’ll warn you, I might be a terrible conversationalist after the day I’ve had.”

“That’s okay,” Lando replied with a wink. “I’m known to talk enough for two.”

With that, he grabbed one of her bags effortlessly, motioning for her to follow him toward the private terminal. She trailed behind, still looking a little shell-shocked, but there was something about the ease of his manner that made her feel less anxious about the whole thing.

As they walked, Lando kept the conversation light, asking her about her trip and how she ended up almost missing her flight. She shared a story about how her taxi had gotten stuck in traffic, the minutes ticking away as she helplessly watched the airport get closer and closer. Lando laughed, offering a few of his own travel horror stories in return. By the time they reached the sleek jet waiting on the tarmac, the mood between them was light and comfortable.

-

“You weren’t kidding,” she muttered as they approached the aircraft, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is...wow.”

Lando chuckled and waved a hand. “It’s not bad, right?”

They climbed aboard, and soon enough, they were airborne. The hum of the engines was soothing, and the view of the clouds stretching out below them was a peaceful contrast to the chaos of the airport they’d left behind.

“You know,” she said after a while, leaning back in her plush seat, “I still can’t believe I’m on a private jet with you. This feels surreal.”

Lando smirked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Trust me, I’ve been in a lot of surreal situations lately. This one’s pretty tame.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess that’s fair. Monaco, huh? Do you live there?”

“Yeah, for a while now,” he replied, glancing out the window. “It’s a nice place to unwind after the craziness of race weekends.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve been through a few times, but never really had a chance to stay.”

“Well, maybe this is your chance,” he said, eyes twinkling. “What’s your plan once we get there?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend,” she said with a sigh. “But it’s not set in stone. What about you?”

“Just heading home,” Lando said, then added with a teasing grin, “But if you need a tour guide while you’re there, I might be available.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Are you offering to show me around Monaco, Lando?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “Depends if you’re up for it.”

She laughed softly, glancing out the window again. “I might take you up on that.”

For the rest of the flight, the conversation flowed easily, peppered with light flirtation and comfortable silences. There was something so natural about it—like they’d known each other for longer than just a chance meeting in an airport.

As the jet began its descent toward Monaco, Lando glanced over at her, feeling a strange sense of contentment.

“Guess we’re almost there,” he said.

”Yeah,” she replied, though her tone held a hint of reluctance. “Thanks again for this, Lando. You really saved my day.”

He flashed her a playful grin. “Anytime. Maybe I’ll see you around Monaco.”

“Maybe,” she said with a smirk of her own. “But next time, let’s hope it’s under more normal circumstances.”

“Deal,” he replied with a wink.

As they stepped off the jet and into the warm Monaco air, Lando couldn’t help but think that maybe missing her flight had been the best thing that could’ve happened to either of them that day.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember requests are open if you would like to request something. Also question for you guys, is there someone who can help me with the link of the requests so I could put it in my masterlist? I don’t know where to find that link, DM me if you know.

[nishiyako]

KENJI & DOGGY STYLE (DRABBLE) (NSFW)

Someone reposted one of my Kenji fics and said "ugh he'd so love doggy style", now that I read this, yes, “he’d so love doggy style”. So here's some Kenji doggy style brain rot/Drabbles.

Tags : Doggy style (duh), Creampie mentioned, Pulling out, Dommy Kenji, Praise n sweet talk from Kenji <3, Degration too, Spanking, Kenji puts out a cig on you (can't get over it, srry), not proofread, written in 20 minutes.

Ever since he's seen you he just knew you would look perfect on your hands and knees for him, his hands maybe with a handful of your hair forcing you bounce against his hips while he absolutely spoils you by finishing on your skin.

His chest right against your back, feeling his warm skin against yours and his heavy breathing right beside your ear cooled by the cold gold dog tag necklace he wears that's pressed between your bodies (obviously the necklace stays on)

Everyone knows he's the type to talk you through it, humming the sweetest praises and treating your insides like its his god, rubbing that spongy spot inside you only making you get that much closer, the type that makes you light headed, out of breath, questioning your worth, y'know?

“You like that? Yeah, bet you do.” or “Doing so fuckin’ good for me, yeah?” his words always followed with the most needy, lustful, most porn hub worthy moans you’d ever hear.

Believe he has an impeccable pull out game, pulling out of you just before finishing, using your lower back as a canvas of his warm sticky seed, seeing the build up of stressful days and hard practices painted over his lover while your thighs are absolutely stained and sticky.

While you’re still panting and irrational he asks to take a photo, not a few days after you see it as his phone's home screen.

You want him to be mean? if it's what you're into he’ll absolutely bully you if you want him too. A hand covering your mouth as he complains that “You’re too loud” and while he calls you a slut. He can’t help the fact he’s into you. He’ll even ask you to put your hair in pigtails or a ponytail just so he can hold you like that, seeing that little arch in your back just for him? Does wonders to his ego.

Get's a bit rough here...

He has no problem being rougher than that too, playing into that sick and twisted bad boy fantasy (some of) you have of him, scene being something like a cigarette in his mouth and him ripping your fishnets open. 

Railing you into next week with red hand marks on your skin from his spanking fueled by the cute little yelps you let out. Your eyeliner streaming down your face as your eyes roll back, white starting to stain your ruined (once was) black fishnets, something straight out of a porn hub video. He doesn't mind finishing inside you either if you ask nicely.

His hand pinning your wrists against the bed as the other one took his almost out cigarette and taping it, putting it out on your skin, some of the ash sticking against the shiny sweat on your body, finishing inside you with no warning, the feeling of getting filled up to suddenly pushing you over the edge.

(But no matter which kind of fannon Kenji you prefer, I hope y'all enjoyed hearing out my little doggy style Kenji fantasy.)

Repost in question :

@gotosleeeep love you sm <33

[dadsbongos]

local adventurers get body swapped and fuck sloppy style

2.5 K words / warnings - unprotected pinv sex, fem body for reader, oral (m+f receiving), slight choking, pwp, not super proofread

summary - something something marcille and senshi need medicinal herbs… its not important. you and chilchuck and laios get it on in each other's bodies

~~~

“Laios, I don’t know if you should touch those…”

“He definitely shouldn’t!”

Laios touches the vibrant orange flower petals, grazing his fingertips from the outer curl towards the neon yellow stigma, “I think if I press right here, then…”

“Laios!” Chilchuck shrieks at the same time you gasp, “No!”

A yellow powder spews from the now gaping stigma, clogging Laios’ entire head. In your shared panic to rescue the man, you and Chilchuck also inhale traces of the pollen. It tastes unexpectedly sweet, like ripe apples fresh from their tree -- it’s also incredibly disorienting. Head spinning and throat tight, you’re forced to clench your eyes while stumbling for either of the familiar bodies you’d arrived with.

You find one -- cold metal flattening your palm, though it’s strange -- what you’re touching is only the waist of Laios’ cuirass, but you’re reaching up. Your fingers just barely graze the lip of his arm opening.

Certain you’re not kneeling, and now uncertain that you’re sane, you open your eyes to gaze into the beaming reflection of… yourself. But this version of you has her hands skimming down her sides, nails biting the pouch over your tummy.

Glancing up, you find brown fingerless gloves covering your hand. You also find that you have to really stretch your neck to look up at Laios, who is staring down at you with a disturbed flinch.

“Laios?”

It's your own voice that heeds, “Yeah?”

Slowly, you swing your(?) head to face yourself, eyes wide, “Laios?”

“Yeah?”

With an uncertain, shivery hand, you point up at the armored blonde, “Chilchuck…?”

Laios’ voice whispers back your name before gently pleading, “Get out of my body…”

“I don’t know how!” you wail, tugging on brown hair just to feel the sting that confirms this isn’t some horrible nightmare, “Laios, what’d you do?!”

“If you squeeze this flower right, then it goes into self-defense mode and releases a pollen-like substance that switches people’s souls and bodies. Pretty neat, right?” his excitement with the flower is interrupted by a more carnal curiosity, “Can I feel?” he hovers your own hands over your chest and makes a squeezing motion, “I wonder if they’re as squishy as they look?”

“Sure…”

“Yay,” he murmurs, immediately latching to your chest, “Your breasts are so soft, and warm.”

“Thanks,” your naturally gentle tonation sounds odd, dissonant with Chilchuck’s agitated and shrill voice.

“Don’t let him fondle you!” Chilchuck, bizarrely, sounds natural in Laios’ body. Loud and resolute, “That’s so inappropriate!”

“I don’t mind, Chilchuck, really.”

“And don’t say my name with my own voice!”

“Sorry…”

“I wonder how you feel inside.”

Disturbed, you and Chilchuck’s heads turn toward where Laios continues to grope your (his?) chest -- his breaths shortening to gasps and lip sucked between his teeth.

“What’d you just say?” Chilchuck points a shaky finger at Laios.

If Laios finds looking himself in the face strange, he makes no indication. Merely beaming at Chilchuck in his body and shrugging while squeezing your boobs, “Isn’t it so cool that just pollen can swap us so perfectly? Why wouldn’t we try to explore each other’s bodies in a situation like this?”

Chilchuck’s embarrassment makes Laios’ cheeks flare red hot, an annoyed huff spiking past his clenched teeth, “It’ll only make things worse for the party in the long run! Inter-party romance is a terrible idea!”

“It’s not romance, just investigation.”

Before a punch can be thrown from the flustered Chilchuck, you lay a lithe hand on either man’s shoulder (pushing into the back of your mind how strange it is to call a hand smaller than your own yours), “Laios, you have to see how strange that sounds to people not as… curious as you.”

“But I’ve always wanted to know how your bodies work,” Laios frowns, “I get that we’re all humans, so it's basically the same thing and not as interesting, but when it comes to you two I just can’t help it. I want to know how soft your mouths are and how your joints roll in action,” he then peers specifically at Chilchuck, batting your lashes pathetically, “Especially your body, Chil, since I rarely see you do more than deactivate traps.”

“That’s because that’s my job! I don’t fight!”

“Chilchuck, he’s not judging you,” you move the hand on his shoulder down to his hand, Laios’ large palm massively overwhelming Chilchuck’s -- you’re captivated by the difference, “If Laios had a problem with you not fighting, I’m sure you wouldn’t still be in the party.”

“I just want to know how you both feel,” you could cringe at the sound of your voice saying something so naughty, but for the sake of Laios’ feelings you don’t, “Inside and out.”

“Did you consider how that’d be for us? Having to look our own faces in their face during something like that.”

“Like what? I just want to poke,” Laios stretches your fingers with a wiggle, “Maybe some fingering.”

That’d be more believable if Laios wasn’t such a terrible liar, his tells making your back straightening impossibly and knees buckling. Laios starkly dodges both yours and Chilchuck’s scrutinizing stares.

“We know you better than that. You’ll wanna go all out,” despite your inclination to give Laios the benefit of doubt, you’re forced to nod alongside Chilchuck’s accusation.

“Is that so bad?”

Is it?

You’re not as anatomically intrigued as Laios (at least pretends to be), but you can’t lie to yourself and say the men aren’t attractive. Laios is beefy yet kind, piercing amber eyes and soft blonde hair -- his arms look perfect for holding you down as he impales you with his cock. Chilchuck is slight and nimble, big brown eyes with thick lashes and silver hairs sprinkled through brown locks -- his dominable frame would be easy to ride until he’s got tears in his eyes and pleas flowing from his fussy lips.

“I don’t think so,” you move, stepping over to Laios’ side, “I think it could be worth a try.”

“No way!” Chilchuck glares at you for your betrayal, “There is no chance I’d ever do something so depraved!”

.

.

.

“This is so weird…” Chilchuck whines from Laios’ throat, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sight before him.

You, in Chilchuck’s own body, knelt beside Laios occupying your body as you both lick over his flushed erection. Laios seems to show no shyness, eagerly teasing your soft lips across his skin until he’s tonguing the underside. Meanwhile, you’ve got the smoldering head twitching on your tongue -- suckling softly before releasing your lips with a pop and laving the side with attention. Eventually, Laios bores of kitten licks and lowers towards the balls, giving you room to suck his penis into your mouth fully.

Chilchuck winds a hand, larger than he’s used to controlling, through your hair, peeking under his spare arm to watch Laios abuse your likeness. Blinking sweetly and humming while warming his own nuts with gurgled saliva. With advanced hearing, you can make out even the minute sound of Laios’ inferior gag reflex choking on his own balls.

You can also make out the deep rumble of Chilchuck panting and swallowing around his own arousal, lodged in his throat. Hoping to coax out the desire, you relax your gullet and bury your nose against flaxen pubes, making Chilchuck shudder and buck further into your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, squeezing tighter around brown hair and shaking out your head before wrenching you back, “Wanna fuck your face.”

If you didn’t want him to as well, you’d be busy pointing out how your face is really his.

Instead, you moan eagerly and let your mouth hang open. Digging blunt nails into the handles on his hips for leverage as Chilchuck snaps into your gaping, velvety mouth. Spit gurgles past the rim of your lips, your sudden super hearing picking up every soft, throaty groan that spills from his chest. Despite his every effort to drown the sounds in kisses with Laios, you hear it -- you even hear how their lips mesh above your head.

Silky moans let out by your own voice, it’s startling. And arousing. Which makes it even more startling.

Chilchuck gasps and huffs abruptly, pulling you back to beat his cock against your puffy, raw lips. His whole body scrunches as broken, spotty moans dribble through him, shooting cum down your throat -- though having to bury his face into Laios’ neck (technically your neck) to avoid seeing his own face swallowing his seed.

With your own voice, heady and ragged with lust, Laios sprawls to the ground with spread legs, “I’m so hot,” he brainlessly bucks up against his roaming hand, eyes snapping to you, “How do you live like this?”

“I’m not horny all the time, Laios!”

Completely bypassing your protest, as per usual, Laios whimpers and undoes your trousers -- tickling a trembling finger down his (your) slit, “I need someone in me, please, please?”

You and Chilchuck stare at each other for a short while, silently debating who would be the one -- with newfound stamina in Laios’ body, Chilchuck could theoretically do it if he felt so greedy. Thankfully, he does not, and reclines beside Laios before pressing kisses into his neck while yanking you over by the belt. With eyes closed, he expertly undoes the pants to pull your brand new cock out.

Calloused, yet warm, hands stroke along your shaft in slow pumps before feeding your (his) tip into Laios.

Yours and Laios’ inexperience at the shared sensation is abundant in how you’re both gasping, sweat-slick messes. Laios wiggles further onto your cock, keening and back arching at the intrusion, while your hands are clammy and shaking on his hips. Your eyes can only stray as high as the breasts before things feel… weird… so you choose instead to obsess over the sight of your cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt. Messy slick glinting in the sunlight, face melting with need, and all rational thought sucked into the tight clench of Laios.

Whining and leisurely thrusting into Laios, you close your eyes to fully absorb the sensations around you. Still, your heightened hearing can pick up the downright obscene gush of your sloppy, wet cunt being fucked open.

Chilchuck lays beside Laios, making you flinch at the unseen act of tracing his fingers around your cock in Laios to gather the splashing wetness before swirling the sodden pads into Laios’ clit.

“Ah!” your voice spikes, Laios grabbing Chilchuck’s wrist as if he could use your dwindling might to bat off his own strength. Chilchuck grins despite himself and continues abusing the bundle of nerves as desperation makes your drilling speed up. Laios wails and bunts eager hips to meet your thrusts, “Ah, ah, ah, ah- so good! This feels amazing!”

Laios presses the hand not clutching Chilchuck’s against your tummy, fingers prodding where cock batters his insides. Huffy little fuck, fuck, oh fucks leaving pouty, raw-bitten lips.

“Does it feel good?” Chilchuck laughs at you both, his sarcasm only being met with varied, broken ‘uh-huh’ responses. A thought brews in his following silence before he reaches up with a spare hand, “How about this, then?”

Suddenly, Laios’ large hand is wrapped around your neck, pressuring the sides to make your head spin.

Oh.

Oh that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Sudden restricted air pushes your hammering hips into overdrive, gut fizzling and tightening until you’re certain you’ll combust from the inside. You squeeze bruises into your own hips as you slam into Laios’ pliant body.

“Oh my God,” he suddenly wails from your mouth, “I think I’m- fuck! - am I?” his breath hitches, eyes wide and thighs cinching around your pumping hips, “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, then,” Chilchuck snides with lips still pressed to Laios’ neck, rudely pinching his clit, “Cum for us.”

“I’m cumming,” he babbles, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Laios’ complete lack of will obliterates your own, the intense milking of his orgasm around you practically pulling cum from your cock. You gasp under Chilchuck’s choking while stuffing Laios full.

As soon as you’ve pulled Chilchuck’s softening cock out, Laios darts a hand down to finger your abused cunt. Puffy lips parting around curious fingers, thighs twitching at the unwelcomed overstimulation. Mixed cum leaks onto his digits before he accidentally brushes a thumb over his own clit, sending his thighs clenching around his hand as he forces another orgasm from your body.

You blink, suddenly much drowsier than before, and when you open your eyes you’re on the ground. With twitching, aching thighs and a hand between your legs.

Before you can acclimate to the realization you’re returned to your proper body, large hands are spreading your thighs again. Laios dives in, much too excited, and licks along your slit with a seedy groan and pinched brows. As if he’s deriving pure pleasure from sucking your combined release out of your pussy. If anything, the unadulterated oddity and grossness confirms that Laios is, in fact, back in his own body.

“I remember you were needing a little something, big guy,” Chilchuck tiredly slumps against Laios’ side, reaching below the belt to tug Laios’ hardening cock, “Guess you do have a lot of stamina.”

“I wanted to taste it on my fingers before we switched back, but now I can have it on my real tongue,” Laios deliriously giggles, “How lucky is that?”

You’re given no pause to respond before he’s returning to tongue-fucking your spasming hole.

Chilchuck presses lazy kissing along Laios’ flushed skin, jostled slightly when Laios abruptly sits straight, bucking his hips into Chilchuck’s fist as he asks, “Can I cum on you? I want to taste us all together. I need to know- !”

“Fine!” you’re borderline shrieking, sniveling and sobbing in the overstimulation, “Yes, yes, cum on my cunt, Laios. Do whatever you want!”

As if waiting permission, once those words are uttered, Laios spurts across your heated groin. He wastes no time basking in his euphoria before drunkenly lapping up his cum dribbling across your pussy and into yours and Chilchuck’s juices.

“Feral,” Chilchuck notes, smearing the excess sperm across Laios’ thigh and collapsing by your side.

Quicker and more violent than you’d like, another orgasm swells from your tummy to your hips. Thighs clapping against Laios’ ears as his tongue lulls out to sap up your cum. Your nails scrape Laios’ scalp as you wrangle him back when you notice him trying to sink in for more.

“Laios, please!” you tiredly protest.

“Off,” Chilchuck says it short and curt, like training a puppy, as he bats Laios’ head.

Laios lifts his head and drops beside you as well, turning onto his side to stare at you both -- hands curled towards his chest for comfort, “That was fun. We should do it again, but with our normal bodies.”

Unbeknownst to Laios, both you and Chilchuck are passed out and tangled around on another. And unknown to all three of you, Marcille and Senshi are coughing and hacking out a plan to crawl out and search for your group on the hunt for medicinal herbs.

[smileysuh]

nerd

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, use of dragon knotted dildo toy, use of vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, dirty talk, slight power play/humiliation, clit sucking, overstimulation, pussy stretching, reader rides the toy then Wonwoo uses the toy to make her cum again, talking reader through it, mutual masturbation, Wonwoo strokes himself off to the reader using her toys, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby. (Wonwoo’s) puppy

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, gamer!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is on the shorter side, it’s pwp, but I’ve been reading shorter things lately, and I’ve been insanely busy, so I figured a short and sweet fic couldn’t hurt after last month's near 20k meanie fic :)

You wake up to an empty bed, your hand stretching uselessly toward your boyfriend’s side of the mattress, to no avail. With a slight groan and a huff of sleepy annoyance, you wrap yourself tighter in your white duvet, searching for the energy to sit up.

A clicking sound has your brows furrowing, and you wrap your body tight in the blanket as you open your eyes to look around.

Wonwoo’s sitting at his gaming station in the corner of the room, large earphones snug around his head. For a guy who’s a bit of a night owl, you’re shocked he’s awake and playing video games right now, but as you stare at the screen, you realize what’s going on.

With the new Fallout TV show, Wonwoo’s been wanting to do another playthrough of Fallout 4. He’s been talking about it on Twitch streams for the better part of a week. Leave it to your boyfriend to get the energy to restart a video game at nine am on a Saturday morning.

As much as you love Wonwoo and what he does for work - being a streamer is his dream afterall - you kind of wish he was still in bed with you. He’d been up late gaming last night, and was too tired afterward to take care of your growing needs. You’re at the part of your cycle where you’ve been very horny lately, and you’d been crossing your fingers for morning sex, but by the way Wonwoo is locked in on his screen, you can guess that might not be in the cards.

You watch him a few moments longer, realizing that he’s not actively streaming. It looks like he’s just doing general character creation, but with a boyfriend as meticulous as Wonwoo, you know that could take a while.

Quietly slipping from bed, you wrap yourself in a kimono style robe that Wonwoo had got for you on a recent trip to Japan. You head to the bathroom, intent on completing your morning skin care routine, taking your time and brushing your teeth. 

When you head back to your shared room with Wonwoo fifteen minutes later, your boyfriend looks like he hasn’t even moved a muscle aside from his twitching thumbs on the controller.

Approaching Wonwoo, you lean over the back of his chair, loosely guiding your fingers across his shoulders and down to his bare chest. 

Wonwoo immediately takes his headphones off, turning to press a kiss to your cheek while you linger behind him.

“Good morning,” you breathe.

“Morning, baby,” he says, voice deep and crackly with exhaustion.

“Watcha doing?”

“Just making my Fallout character,” he responds smoothly, turning to look back at the screen. “I’m glad you’re awake actually.”

“Yeah?” you grin. “And why is that?”

“I’m almost done, and when I move onto my wife character, I want to model her after you. As good as my memory is, it’s probably better to have you here with me when I do it.”

God, he’s such a nerd.

You love him, your whole heart warming in your chest at the notion of him creating a wife character based off of you.

“Are you sure you want to put the time into that?” you ask. “We both know what happens to the wife within the first fifteen minutes of the game.”

Wonwoo only shrugs. “I woke up to your pretty face and I guess I was inspired.”

“Hey, puppy?” The pet name immediately draws his attention, and he turns to look at you, a smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you take a break for a bit?”

Wonwoo’s eyes scan you up and down, and then he sets his controller to the side, reaching for you instead. You allow him to lace his fingers with yours, drawing you in front of him. He positions you between his spread thighs, using his free digits to tug on the belt of your kimono robe. You don’t even need to verbalize what you need, Wonwoo knows you too well, and within seconds, your robe is opening to expose your naked body.

“I guess I didn’t really have the energy to take care of you last night,” Wonwoo admits, leaning forward to press his lips to the spot above your navel.

You let go of his hand in favour of threading your fingers through his curls, his hair teasing your sensitive skin as he presses kisses up toward your rib cage. He cups the back of your thighs, tugging you closer.

Wonwoo reaches your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick at the underside of your boob, eyes gazing up at you.

“How about a compromise?” he suggests, breath hot on your sensitive skin.

“A compromise?” Your words come out shaky as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

He hums against the sensitive bud, one hand lifting to massage your ass. Then, he pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with a grin. “I just wanna finish your character first.”

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head at Wonwoo. You step away from him, but he grabs at your hand. “Kiss,” he instructs, and you begrudgingly lean down to press a chaste peck to his lips. His fingers thread through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep your mouth on his for a few moments longer, then he releases you. 

“Should only take five or ten minutes,” he tells you. “And I need you here to model.” 

“One second,” you groan, heading to your closet.

If he doesn’t want to fuck you right away, if he wants to prioritize his video game, that’s just fine. You can start without him.

You find a good sized toy, one of the dragon style ones that Wonwoo had been obsessed with a few months ago. He loves watching the coulourful, ribbed cock with a wide ‘knot’ base work you open for him, and fuck it, today feels like a good day for you to enjoy it too.

You also grab a trusty black vibrator and a bottle of lube for good measure before going back to your boyfriend.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything as you sink to the ground, he simply pushes his chair back, giving you some space to settle under the table his computer is on. You can feel his gaze on you when you open the bottle of lube, squirting some onto the toy before suctioning it to the floor.

“Five or ten minutes, right?” you ask, easing over the head of the toy and facing your boyfriend.

“Uh huh,” he mumbles, looking down to watch the way you sink the head of the toy into your pussy. “Think you can get all the way down to the knot with that time frame?”

“Probably,” you groan, closing your eyes to enjoy the way the tip feels inside of you. “But… puppy, you haven’t fucked me in so long, I’m pretty tight.”

“You’ll work yourself open,” Wonwoo assures you, his attention turning back to his screen, although you can see his cock beginning to strain against the grey fabric of his sweatpants.

The tip of the toy is tapered compared to the base, with all sorts of ridges that stimulate your inner walls as you test yourself up and down. The lube makes it easy to slide an inch or two inside your aching core, and as much as you’d like to try to sink down fully, you want to go slowly with this, seeing as you have five to ten minutes.

You grab your vibrator, turning it up to a medium setting and placing it on your clit. 

Your head is bowed, thighs already quivering as the sensation of the vibrator surges through you. A moan slips past your lips, your pace quickening on the toy, another inch sinking into you with your motions.

“That’s my good baby,” Wonwoo coos, reaching down to cup your cheek.

When you look up at him, you find his gaze still fixed to his computer screen, and it makes you angry.

You bite your lower lip, bouncing faster, harder- pressing the vibrator firmly to your clit in hopes that the pleasurable sensations will distract you from your growing annoyance.

“Wonwoo-” you groan.

“Puppy,” he corrects you.

“Please-”

“Please what?” your boyfriend counters.

“Fuck me?”

Wonwoo looks down at you finally, that shit eating smirk returning to his lips. “One cock inside of you isn’t enough right now, baby?”

“No, want your cock,” you insist.

“Okay, just remember, you asked for it, and I told you five or ten minutes.” Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hips and pulling his pants down, his hard length slapping up against his lower abdomen.

You’d meant you wanted his cock in your pussy, but you suppose you hadn’t specified what you wanted him to fuck-

Sucking Wonwoo off while he creates a video game character hadn’t been on todays bingo card, but you know how your boyfriend gets when he’s gaming, and you fear this might be the only way to have a piece of him while he’s focused.

Licking your lips, you pull him closer, the wheels of his chair dragging against the ground. With the hand not on the vibrator, you grab the base of his cock, adjusting so you can wrap your mouth around the tip.

Wonwoo releases a pleased groan, and you can feel your pussy clench around the toy.

Your eyes close, your focus going to the sensations ringing through your body. You take more of the dragon cock, slowly moving up and down on it in tandem with your mouth on Wonwoo. The vibrations on your clit are still making your legs shake, and as you get lost in the feeling of blowing your lover, you think you might cum pretty quick this way.

“That’s it, baby,” Wonwoo coos. “My good girl, being so patient.”

Fuck him for praising your patience. He knows lines like that make you eager to please him in this way, eager for more whispered words of affirmation even while he’s neglecting your aching pussy, fully content with you using a toy while he prioritizes his game-

“Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” he commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”

Fuck. Your toes curl at his words.

If his skin wasn’t betraying the effect you’re having on him, you’d never be able to tell by the steady baritone of his morning voice. He’s not shuddering, not breathing deeply- it makes you want to suck on him even harder. You want to earn Wonwoo’s sounds of pleasure- sounds that can be so rare from a man who uses his voice for a living.

“Hows that cock feel inside of you?” he asks, gaze shifting up to his screen again. “Getting you nice and stretched for me, huh?”

You groan around his length, sucking roughly on his sensitive tip.

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath, and your body tingles with your success of earning a strangled sound from him.

“I’m almost done,” he assures you. “But I want to watch you take the knot first, be a good girl and sink down on the toy for me.”

You pull off of his cock with a popping sound, wiping a hand across your saliva wet lips. “What does it matter to you? You can’t even see me taking this.”

“True, but I know the sounds you make when you stuff yourself full with that toy. Wanna hear your pretty sounds baby.”

How is he so good at dirty talk while still staring at his computer screen?

“Nerd,” you whisper under your breath.

“Hmm?” He looks down at you with a grin, and you know he heard what you said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re gonna get it in two minutes,” he warns.

“Lucky me,” you say sarcastically, riding the toy faster, pushing yourself closer and closer to the wide base.

Wonwoo’s left hand finds his cock, and he begins to stroke himself while you focus on your own pleasure, rubbing the vibrator back and forth along your aching clit.

A whimper escapes you when you sink all the way down to the knot of the toy, hovering over the widest section.

“That’s the sound,” Wonwoo muses. “Come on, sink down on it.”

“I’m too tight,” you tell him, moving up and down, unable to go any further onto the knotted base.

“When you take it, I’ll take you,” Wonwoo promises, stroking his cock faster.

Looking up at him, you find your boyfriend staring at you now. He’s set the controller aside, and you have his full attention.

“Can’t you just fuck me right now?” you plead, motions stopping.

“I’m just a gamer nerd, remember, baby? Isn’t it my job to watch an angel like you make herself cum on some stupid toy before I get a taste?”

Fuck. 

He makes it sound like he’s the victim here, although clearly you’re the one aching for him.

“Puppy,” you groan, looking down and focusing on taking the knot. “I’m not wet enough-”

“Then cum. Use your vibe and make yourself cum, should make it easier.”

“But I want you,” you whine.

He laughs. “Brat.”

“Nerd,” you fire back. 

Wonwoo’s grin only widens. “Be a good girl, make yourself cum, take the dragon knot-”

“Anything else?” you huff, rubbing the vibrator hard on your clit.

“Yeah, one more thing.” Wonwoo sits back smugly in his chair, spreading his thighs even wider. “Suck my balls.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Sucking his dick is one thing, but sucking his balls? Generally with past boyfriends, you’ve stuck to their cocks- but Wonwoo has a very specific way of challenging you to do things like this. 

He knows you can’t refuse. He carries all the cards. If you want his dick inside of you, you’re going to have to do this for him. It’s not like you hate sucking balls, it’s not like you’ve ever voiced it to him that this is a boundary for you, it’s just… regularly, you’d rather… well, you’d rather not. 

But you suppose this is what you get for calling him a nerd. 

With a sigh, you lean forward, licking at the space just below the fingers wrapped around the base of his cock.

“Don’t be shy,” he tells you. 

You decide to focus mainly on your own pleasure while you take one of his balls into your mouth. He’s doing this to degrade you, to get back at you for being impatient- but at the same time, from the contented groan that leaves his lips, you know Wonwoo’s sensitive in this area. 

His sounds do make things easier for you, and you close your eyes, rubbing your clit hard with the vibrator.

“That’s it,” he coos. “I love it when you’re a good girl for me.”

You whimper at his words, your core throbbing desperately.

“Better be fast and cum though, I’m not sure I can handle much of this, you’re just so good with your mouth.”

And now he’s threatening to not even fuck you? He’ll stroke himself to the finish line if you don’t cum first?

This man will be the death of you.

“Come on, baby, I know you want to cum,” he encourages you. “Be a good girl and just do it, cum from that vibrator and the dragon cock inside your tight fucking pussy.”

His words are the last straw and you pull off his balls to let out a deep groan. You bury your face against his thigh, pussy fluttering as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls contract around what you can take of the toy, and you feel a rush of wetness coat the silicon, helping you bob up and down even faster-

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes, rubbing his cock even faster. “Just a little more and I’ll fuck you.”

You whimper like a whore in heat, biting gently against Wonwoo’s thigh as you push yourself to sink further onto the toy, your inner walls screaming at you due to the stretch.

“Good girl,” your boyfriend praises you, petting you with a warm hand that makes your entire body ache.

You turn the vibrator off, nearly overstimulated. Tossing it to the side you focus on the dildo, feeling your pussy stretch to accommodate part of the knot.

“Almost there,” Wonwoo says, and by the way he’s stroking his cock, you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or himself.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg. “I can’t-”

“You’re the one who wanted to be filled today, just take a little more and I’ll fill you,” he says, his motions faltering on his length. 

You grab at his thighs, squeezing and using him for leverage to rock up and down on the toy. Your eyes clench shut as you bob up and down, your wetness coating the silicon until-

You let out a gasp as you sink fully onto the toy, pausing while your thighs quiver. Another mini orgasm rushes through you at the feeling of being stretched this way, the knot stuck in your sensitive hole-

“That’s it,” Wonwoo says, moving into action immediately. He pushes away from you, standing up. Hands that are surprisingly gentle reach down and pull you to your feet, making you cry out from the way the toy is still lodged inside of you. “Fuck, you are tight,” he notes from the way the dragon cock didn’t immediately shoot out of you from the change in position. 

“Puppy-” you whimper, already delirious. 

Wonwoo helps you onto the bed, sinking to his knees at the foot of the mattress. He spreads your thighs, and you look down to see his pupils blow with lust while he stares at the large toy still embedded in your pussy.

He licks his lips. “Fuck, I always love it when you take this fucking knot.”

You whisper his name, moaning loudly when he grabs the base of the toy and gently thrusts it in and out of you. 

Then, he shifts, and his tongue finds your clit. “One more?” he practically pleads. “Then another when I’m inside of you?”

It’s been days since he’s made you cum, and it feels like today, he’s going to make up for that. You can bet that by tonight, you’ll have lost track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and you honestly don’t mind.

“Please,” you whisper, reaching down to thread your fingers in his sleep tossled curls.

Wonwoo wraps his lips around your clit, gently rocking the toy inside of you. He doesn’t pull it all the way out, just shifts the knot along your sensitive walls, stretched to the limit and already throbbing.

“Fuck, that’s so good, puppy,” you groan, throwing your head back, eyes clenching shut. You begin to rock your hips, feeling impossibly full- his mouth suctions lewdly around your sensitive bud and your entire body quakes, thighs shaking on either side of his head. “Shit-”

Wonwoo grins against your pussy, an invitation for you to cum on the toy-

Fuck, you need him so badly, and your need spurs your body on, your muscles clenching as you teeter on the edge of an orgasm.

His teeth graze your clit and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, your legs attempting to close around Wonwoo while your pussy throbs desperately around the toy. The sounds escaping you now are practically inhumane, your entire body overtaken by white hot pleasure that courses through you like an electric wave.

Wonwoo pulls the toy from your core and you jolt from the loss, eyes opening to stare down at your boyfriend-

He releases your clit from your mouth, standing quickly. “Fuck, you look so good cumming on that stupid toy,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing the base of his cock and lining his tip up with your still aching pussy. “Gonna fill you now, like I promised.”

He sheaths himself inside of you and you let out a loud moan of releif. “Puppy,” you whimper, making grabby hands at him.

Wonwoo wastes no time, shifting his knees onto the bed, getting on top of you so he can press his lips to yours. Your tongues begin to clash immediately, and the kiss feels almost feverish as you tangle your fingers in his curls.

He’s such a good kisser, but you can hardly focus on his lips with the way his hips are already moving, thrusting so the tip of his cock hits your cervix with each motion-

“Fuck, fuck-” you whimper, feeling tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.

Wonwoo’s mouth finds your throat, his mouth narrowing in on your sweet spot, sucking roughly.

“Puppy-” you cry, tangling your legs tighter around his hips.

“I know, I’m close too,” he pants. “Watching you take that fucking knot just does something to me-”

Your core throbs at his words- you’d guessed he’d been close while jacking off, but hearing him say it this directly makes you even hornier. Your pussy is a sloppy mess, so wet that each thrust has it practically squelching.

 “Please, puppy, please-” you pant, nuzzling against his cheek and licking at his sensitive ear. “Want your cum, want it so bad.”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans. “Rub your clit, need you squeezing me when I cum.” 

You shove a hand between your bodies, nearly crying from the sensitivity of your overworked bud- but you’re not about to give up now. You’re not a weakling, and if Wonwoo wants one more orgasm out of you, you’ll give him one.

“Feels so good,” you gasp, rubbing even harder, your core clenching tight around Wonwoo’s cock while he pants loudly in your ear.

“Need you to cum,” he grits out, fingers digging into your hips. “Come on, baby, cum for me.”

You shut your eyes tight, focusing on all the pleasure surging through you, and when Wonwoo bites gently into your throat, your high hits you straight on.

You gasp loudly, back arching off of the bed, pushing your tits toward Wonwoo’s chest. He releases his own sound of pleasure, and you can feel his cock throbbing while your walls clench around him, painting your insides as you both cum hard. 

You listen to his moans, loving the way he grabs you tightly as he cums, his thrusts faltering, motions shallow, as if he wants to be as deep as possible when he fills you up.

Your lips find his throat, pressing kisses there that make him shiver as you ride out your orgasms, and soon, your muscles are relaxing, the tightness making way for a slacked, exhausted feeling that overwhelms you.

Wonwoo stills on top of you, panting loudly by your ear.

“I think…” he swallows thickly. “I think we should go back to sleep now.”

You laugh, petting his curls. “What about your precious video game?”

“Fuck the video game,” he counters. “Right now, I’m going to clean you up, go back to sleep with you curled on my chest, then we can wake up in a few hours, do it again, get takeout-”

“You have the whole day planned out, don’t you, nerd?”

Wonwoo only laughs. “Don’t test me, baby.”

“Never.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! As much as I love longer fics, I'm such an avid reader of pwp for the anime's I watch, so I wanted to do something shorter and easier for those who like a bite sized fic instead of a full course meal :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “That’s it,” Wonwoo coos. He simply can’t help his dominant tendencies. How is it that you’re supposed to be the one in control, but it still feels like he’s got you wrapped around his finger... And his cock.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, handcuff bondage, reader tries to dom Wonwoo, edging, oral, blow job, pussy eating, 69, choking, dirty talk, pet names, reader is slightly in control, Wonwoo breaks the handcuffs, slight crying/dacryphilia, power dynamic, power switch, teasing, creampie, slight fallout roleplay, masturbation, deep throating, etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby (his) puppy, sir 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 130

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Hey, puppy?” you call, standing in the doorway of your bedroom, watching your boyfriend close up his stream for the night.

“Yes, baby?”

The nerd doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing, but you suppose that’s no new behaviour. With a huff, you disconnect from the door frame, sauntering over to Wonwoo, your skin tight outfit squeezing you with each step.

Leaning over his back, you allow your hands to dance across his chest, Wonwoo looks down, and that’s when you get his attention.

His body goes rigid, and he slowly turns to look at you, taking in the full body Fallout Vault dweller costume you’re wearing.

“Baby…” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, “what are you doing?”

“Playing into your addiction,” you say smoothly. “What, you don’t like it?”

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[pucksandpower]

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

[leviismybby]

NoRegrets!Levi fucks you because he is curious and desperate for it. It's his need as a young man to explore you, to get to know your body. He isn't that experienced but he still has you squirming beneath him when his cock is pounding you. His thrusts are sloppy and fast, his grip on your hips a little too tight but you don't mind, it feels so good, he feels so good. "Fucking....fuck.." The curses that leave his mouth are a reminder that you're making him feel like he is on cloud nine. He doesn't kiss you on the lips a lot instead he leaves marks all over your neck, it's why he loves doing you in missionary, he needs to know that you're feeling pleasure. And he will get better each time you have sex until he has learned your body fully.

Season1!Levi fucks you because he can't show his feelings for you otherwise. He is in denial, he can't love, not now when he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Levi can't go a week without having you in his bed, he craves your body moving with his. "Good girl." He growls into your ear as he fucks you in doggy style, your legs feel like they are bout to give out, he isn't being gentle at all. You fall down onto the sheets and he slides out of you for a moment before laying on top of you, his cock penetrating you again. "Oh come on. I know my girl can take it." He bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips against yours, loving the way you're whining for him.

Season2!Levi fucks you because he needs release. He is frustrated that he can't fight because his leg is injured, but that doesn't stop him from propping you on his office desk and sliding your panties down your legs before entering you. "Wet. I haven't even done anything, you naughty brat." He grunts his hips start moving, his cock slamming deep inside of you. "Fuck yeah. You love it when I fuck this pussy like this don't you?" Your nails dig into his shoulder when he starts to move quicker, despite his leg hurting he thrusts mercilessly into you, the desk shaking under you. He feels your pussy clamp down on him, his eyes roll back slightly before he pulls out and cums over your thighs.

Season3!Levi fucks you because he can be himself with you. Everyone is asking too much from him. He is tired of it. He kisses you on the lips, your tongue playing with his, the rough grip on your thighs makes a shiver run down your spine as he does you against the wall, your legs wrapped around him tightly. Your fingers are in his hair as you moan his name, tugging on his black hair. Pulling away from the kiss, Levi looks at your face memorizing every expression you make. His cock slodes in and out of you, the lewd noises only fire him up more. At this point he doesn't care who can hear you. In fact, it's rather indulging for him, he hasn't claimed you as his yet but you are, his and only his. "Can fuck this tight cunt all fucking day." He nibbles on your ear when you can around him but he doesn't stop. Overstimulating you until you can't talk anymore.

Season4!Levi fucks you because he wants reassurance. Your hands are pinned above your head, his fingers interlocked with yours, his warm body moving on top of you at a passionate pace. "That's it. Fuck, you feel so good." You whimper, your fingers squeezing his hand tighter, eyes rolling at the back of your head. Levi kisses your face, he is deep, and he knows that you can feel every inch of his cock. You're here, you're under him and he is so grateful for that. Releasing your hands, Levi takes a pillow and puts it under your hips to be even deeper inside of your pussy. You moan his name when he starts to slam into you so hard that the bed squeaks, your hand gripping the sheets. His hands rest on your waist, he slows down his movements to make sure that he is as deep as he can be, fucking you hard like you both need it. "Let me cum inside, baby. Shit." You nod your head and without another word, his cum fills you up to the brim.

Postwar!Levi fucks you because he can finally love you in peace. His arms are wrapped around you as you slowly move on top of him, your hips moving back and forth, pushing his cock into your depths. He isn't scared anymore to kiss you on the lips, to tell you how beautiful you look. It's done, he can finally give you all of himself and his time. "You're so fucking pretty. I don't deserve you." His hand reaches up to squeeze your breast, playing with your nipple. You lean down and kiss him, moaning against his mouth. Levi lets you do all the work and he loves it, he loves that you don't put pressure on his back. Pulling away from the kiss, your pussy clenches on his cock making him hiss. "You're gonna cum for me? Yeah?" His other hand rubs the side of your face, you squeeze his biceps and then cum on him, it doesn't take Levi long to cum after that. And you go for another round because you can and he will whisper a quiet "I love you" as you sleep next to him.

[stvolanis]

my minds just so full of thoughts of s3 rafe w/ his little housewife!!

he’s so freaking sweet. Gushing to all of his buddies at the country club about the cute little bell who makes him the best meals after a hard day of tormenting the pogues! And all of them are just like “yeah..uhuh..okay..” cause he never shuts up about you! But when you bring them all a fresh batch of peanut butter cookies with that warm smile on your face, they completely understand why Rafe is so smitten with you C:

Rafe would spoil you rotten for treating him so good! shopping sprees on the weekends, and duh, your nails are always done!! you said you wanted a new vintage von dutch mini skirt that barely covers your ass? Done! Rafe bough 5 of them in different colors and styles. Anything you look at for a little too long, or your fingers barely graze over, will be bought so beware!! Don’t even get me started on how Rafe would have flowers sent to you when he’s away on missions, always so pretty and fresh, and always your favorites.

but Rafes favorite part about his housewife? The way you let him stuff your cunt no matter what. You’re cooking? He’s got you bent over with his mushroom tip pounding at your cervix as you desperately try to flip the pancakes before they burn. you’re folding clothes? He’ll bounce you up and down on his cock till you lose focus of what you’re supposed to be doing, too drunk on the way he feels inside of you. Cleaning? Of course he stresses you out when his cum spills onto the freshly mopped floor, so he has you lick it up!! “S’not my fault it wouldn’t all fit in your mouth.” He’d huff out.

his breeding kink would be through the roof with you! his mind spirals at the thought of you with you belly round and swollen, evidence of how good he is to you. You’re so sweet and gentle, you’d be such a good mama to his kids! He can imagine himself walking into his home to the sight of you with a toddler that looks just like the both of you being bounced on your hip. You’d pepper him with kisses, and your little one would crawl out of your arms just to be with him.

Safe to say, Rafe is definitely obsessed with you.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen

[pastryfication]

oscar taking care of his girlfriend who’s suffering with nausea and dizziness. like he helps her around the house, brings her food, turns into her personal blanket… i am a sucker for sweet bf oscar piastri

i’ll always take care of you

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: haven’t proofread this so i apologise for any mistakes!! hope you like it <33

oscar had always been attentive—the most observant and caring boyfriend you’ve ever had—but today he seemed to have turned his attentiveness into a whole new art form.

you’d been feeling unwell since the morning—waves of nausea and dizziness that left you unsteady on your feet and far too tired to do much more than rest on the couch. he noticed the moment he saw you, a concerned frown creasing his brow as he knelt beside you.

“hey, you okay?” he asked softly, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

you managed a small smile, though it was weak. “just feeling a bit off. dizzy and nauseous. i think i might need to rest.”

oscar’s frown deepened as he nodded immediately. “okay, you stay right there,” he said firmly, standing up. “i’ll get you some water and maybe something light to eat, just in case.”

he moved around the kitchen with a quiet efficiency, fetching a glass of cold water and preparing a small plate of plain toast. when he returned, he set everything down on the coffee table beside you and sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“here,” he murmured, holding the glass to your lips. “just sip a little, don’t force it.”

you did as he said, taking small sips of water, grateful for his patience. oscar watched you with that focused expression he usually reserved for the track, like nothing else mattered but making sure you were okay. after a few sips, you leaned back, closing your eyes as another wave of dizziness washed over you.

“this feeling sucks,” you muttered, frustrated with how your body seemed to betray you. “i can’t even stand up without feeling like i’m going to fall over.”

oscar shook his head and slid an arm around your shoulders, gently guiding your body to rest against him. “you’re just not feeling well, love, and that’s okay. i’m here to help, alright?”

you sighed, leaning into his warmth, your head resting on his shoulder. “don’t you have something better to do?”

oscar’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “you’re not a burden if that’s what you think.” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “i want to take care of you. it’s what i’m here for.”

he rubbed your back soothingly, his touch light and comforting. he held you like that for a while, his body warm against yours, his steady breathing helping to calm the spinning sensation in your head. you felt a little better, enough to open your eyes and look up at him.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft. “you’re too good to me.”

he smiled, his hand moving to gently stroke your hair. “you deserve it,” he replied. “and besides, i kind of like holding you like this.”

you laughed softly, the sound weak but genuine. “oh, yeah? planning to keep me warm and cozy forever?”

oscar’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with affection. “that’s the plan,” he said. “but first, let’s get you to the bedroom so you can lie down properly.”

he stood up slowly, snaking his arms around your body to lift you bridal style. his touch was gentle, as if you were made of glass, and when you held onto his bicep for safety when he started moving, he smiled softly down at you.

when you finally reached the bed, he helped you sit down and then guided you to lie back, adjusting the pillows behind you. he pulled the blanket up over you and tucked it around your sides, his hands smoothing the fabric with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“do you want anything else?” he asked softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “more water? a different snack? i can get you whatever you need.”

you shook your head. “just . . . stay with me?”

oscar’s expression softened, and he nodded immediately. “of course,” he said, climbing into the bed beside you. he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

his warmth seeped into you, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath your ear. he held you like that, like you were something precious and fragile, his fingers tracing light patterns along your arm. every so often, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring softly about nothing in particular—little stories, jokes, anything to distract you from the discomfort.

you felt yourself relaxing more, the dizziness fading slightly with the comfort of his touch and his presence. you closed your eyes, breathing in his scent, and felt a small smile form on your lips. “i’m so lucky to have you,” you murmured sleepily.

oscar’s arms tightened around you just a little bit more, his lips brushing against your hair. “no,” he whispered back, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “i’m the lucky one.”