#it would be a good in between to work on a little of this and then a little of dead friend so i can get tone shifts and stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pomefioredove · 3 days

Text

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

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sourpeachsayshi · 2 days

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Praise kink with Nanami, please😭

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: therapist!nanami; client!reader; guided; forbidden; doctor-patient relationship; size kink(?)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: I went overboard with this one.

nanami's eyes darken, his glasses resting just below the bridge of his nose, irises blurring like the haze between night and day. he uncrosses then crosses his legs, desperately trying to adjust the bulge in his pants. his notebook is still resting comfortably on his lap, one of his hands fidgeting with the pen that he lightly taps against the paper, while the other traces the outline of his lip.

your legs are spread apart, your skirt flipped up, underwear pulled to the side. your shirt unbuttoned, exposing the lace fabric of your pretty, pretty bra. the sight of your cunt forms a knot in his throat, which he swallows while trying to forget the many nights he's jacked off picturing himself fucking you.

the one who came to him after leaving her horrible husband. who has struggled to find any sexual pleasure ever since, and who timidly admitted that she finds her underwear soaked after every session with dr. kento.

"I don't think," you sigh, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. "I don't think this will work..."

"but you look good," he reassures, noticing your lashes flutter at his words. "Wet. I can see it from here..."

your face burns with embarrassment, and you part your lips to say something though no words come out.

"just keep listening, okay? you're doing really well for me, I promise this will help," he lies through his teeth, his cheeks tinting a shade of crimson of him abusing his role. "your middle and index finger, use it to rub your clit, not too fast...nice and easy..."

you oblige, and that doesn't take him by surprise. you listen to his guidance, start massaging the nub of your clit gently. a few minutes pass, but he's busy paying attention to your reactions. the way your breath hitches and your chest hiccupping as you try to stifle a moan.

"don't hold it in," he coos, "give in to your natural reactions. it's okay, I'm right here. I'm watching you, helping you. you trust me, right?"

"yes, doctor," you whimper and he hums in response.

"feels good?"

"uh-huh"

"you sound lovely, like you're enjoying it..."

"mmph~"

"faster. add a little more pressure, that's right..." he continues, "how do you feel?"

"warm-" you add, breathless and needy which only fuels his desire. "I l-like it, I like how it feels..."

"This is excellent progress, I'm proud of you," he praises, a hint of a devious smile ticking the corner of his lip. "try putting a finger in, there you go..."

his eyes narrow as you sink your middle finger into your hole. you gasp in slight shock, taken aback that you actually enjoyed the tiny stretch. nanami nearly snaps the pen his half. knowing full well that the length and thickness of his fingers would do far, far better.

you pump in and out, so slowly like you're trying to figure out what pacing you prefer. "doctor kento," you moan, though you are not addressing him with anything specific except to simply call out his name.

his cock twitches.

he takes his glasses off, and folds it neatly between his pressed shirt. he closes his notebook, the page filled with mindless scribbles that he put together to distract himself from being aroused by you.

"when we discussed your sex life prior to your marriage, you mentioned you enjoyed receiving oral," he states.

you gaze up at him with doe eyes from underneath your lashes, finger fucking yourself tenderly as you shake your head in confirmation.

he gets up from his seat, takes a few steps closer as he carefully rolls up his sleeve. he kneels before you, the afternoon light sparkling against his golden hair. his face far too close to your cunt.

"a more manual approach might do you some good," he mumbles, his large palms reaching for your plush thighs.

the heat burns behind your ears and down your neck, your muscles in your lower belly start quivering with delight and anticipation.

"you're gorgeous, by the way," he admits, dropping his professional mask and allowing his inner thoughts to speak on his behalf. "it's a shame your ex couldn't appreciate that..."

he moves on hand to circle around your wrist and draws it away from your soaking cunt. he brings your shaking fingers to his lips to taste your essence before releasing you with a pop.

"so sweet," he purrs. he drops your wrist, his hands smoothing over your inner thigh and over the curve of your pelvis. when he looks up at you, you almost don't recognize the devilish expression on the face of such a gentleman. "you deserve to feel this good. may I?"

you melt into the pillow behind you, your heart pounding so hard against your chest it makes the room around you spin.

"we'll go for as long as you can handle. alright, sweetheart?"

"yes, doctor kento"

"good girl," he murmurs, the depth of his voice making you tremble in your seat. "such a good girl..."

your eyes roll to the back of your head, a cry leaving your lips that sounds like an ache when he brings his tongue to your sex and drags upward along the glittering slit.

no more secrets x

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

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princessbrunette · 2 days

Note

thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”

oh my god??????

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.

the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.

“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.

“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.

“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.

you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.

“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.

“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.

you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”

you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.

“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.

“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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satorusugurugurl · 2 days

Text

I Want To

Summary: You’ve been dating Sukuna for three months since you met at Gojo’s party. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you. He’s a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he is patient. He’s patient with his younger brothers and patient when it comes to you being a virgin. But when you say, “Fuck me.” As an expression, he groans and whispers, “I want to.” Little does he know, you want it too.

Pairing: (Modern) Ryomen Sukuna X FAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, language, first time.

Word Count: 3,377

A/N: I hadn't touched on Modern Sukuna in a while. So this kind of just came together! 💚

Previous Parts: Part One Part Two

Sukuna was on top of you, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed you into the couch. Lips moved fervently against each other as he growled against your lips. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down on it as hard as he could without drawing blood. The sharp inhale of breath that sounded from you had his cock throbbing so hard inside his pants it was painful.

It had been three months since he met you in a closet at Gojo’s house party. The initial encounter was awkward at first but quickly turned into a messy make-out session. When the doors flung open, all of your mutual friends screamed and cat-called as you found you pinned against the wall, his hand fisted in your hair, while his lips were smeared with lipstick.

That was the beginning of your relationship.

You met the brothers he had custody over. He would bring you coffee at the doctor’s office you worked at. All your co-workers stole glances as he kissed you in the lobby. Things were so naturally organic between you both.

They started spicy, his tongue in your mouth while you dug your nails into his back in a closet. But the boiling lust turned to a simmer for weeks, especially when you told Sukuna you were a virgin. He was willing to wait for you. Whenever you were ready, so would he.

Things usually ended up like this. Him on top of you, you on top of him, making out like horny teenagers. Hands feeling each other up while whimpers and growls filled the living room. Tonight, you looked ravishing. Tight-fitted jeans and a black top with cherries embroidered in it, and fuck, they hugged the fantastic curves of your body perfectly. Of course, things would get hot and heavy when you looked this good.

“Ah~ mhm~ fuck.” You gasped out as Sukuna pulled away, watching his hands squeeze and grope your tits. “K-Kuna~”

“Your tits are fucking perfect.”

You watched his hands groping and squeezing you, thumbs brushing over your clothed nipples. Your pussy clenched and throbbed, your arousal seeping out of you, soaking your panties. Sukuna drove you crazy. His kisses, the way his hands so lovingly caressed and made you.

“Oooh god,” You whined as he kissed your neck, gently rocking his hips against the couch. “F-fuck me.” You cried out, throwing your head back.

“God, I want to.”

The room felt stuffy as Sukuna pulled back, the seriousness of his words hitting him in the gut. You opened your mouth to speak back, and he quickly pulled off of you, plopping back into his seat. His eyes focused solely on you.

“Sorry.” He breathed out, covering the growing tent in his pants with a throw pillow.

God, he was so patient. He wanted things to escalate, but he wouldn't push you. He wasn't like other guys you had dated. The ones always trying to make you, attempting to take things further. They were the same guys who would get pissy, and when you’d tell them to stop. Sukuna always stopped himself. He never once tried to take things further.

He was the one. There were no ifs,ands, or buts; Sukuna was the person you wanted to be with. You wanted to have sex with him. But that meant you'd have to be the one to make the first move.

Without hesitation, you followed him, grabbing the pillow and tossing it to the side. Sukuna inhaled sharply as you straddled his hips, gently rocking against him. His large hands hovered just about your hips, not touching you but tempted to do so.

“I want to, too,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him deeply. “Kuna~ I’m ready.”

Your confession had Sumuna’s hands gripping your hips in a flash. His lips pressed against yours. “Are—” Kiss. “you—” Kiss. “sure?” His last kiss was deep, his tongue grazing yours as you rocked your hips slowly back and forth.

“Ah~ yes~ fuck yes.” you cried ou his cock throbbed inside his shorts. “I need you~ I want you inside of me.”

Sukuna held your hips before he stood up, his lips frantically moved against yours as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down on the mattress, crawling on top of you, his hands caging you underneath him. Having him on top of you was nothing new. You both had made out like this countless times before. But knowing that this time was going to lead to sex, it had your pussy throbbing as he slid his hands underneath that pretty black blouse with cherries on it. The same blouse he'd been wanting to rip off you all night.

“A-Ahnn.” you softly cried out as he pulled the top off, dropping it to the ground.”Sukuna~” His hands groped your breasts, squeezing them gently in his hands.

“Your tits are so cute,” he whispered as he slid his hands under your bra. “They're the perfect size.”

You tilted your head forward, watching as he slowly rubbed the pad of his thumb around your nipples in slow, tantalizing circles. Your body twitches as your nipples grow harder underneath his thumb. The feeling of them erecting underneath his touch had Sukuna growling, his hands reaching around, unclasping her bra with one skilled hand.

With the flimsy fabric out of the way, Sukuna took in your bare torsos, admiring how lovely you looked sprawled out underneath him. Your skin has a certain glow to it; whether it was because of the low bedroom lighting or the arousal, he wasn't sure. The one thing he was sure about was that you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down, trailed kissed over your shoulders. “Stunning.” down past your collarbone. “And delicious,” Sukuna growled before taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

Your back arched, trying to feel more of him against you. Your skin was aching for his touch as if he was the remedy to the burning sensation spreading over it. His tongue swirled and flicked over your sensitive bud, and his crimson eyes were locked on you. They watched, taking notes on your reactions, your subtle jerks, and what made you moan louder. When you gasped or whined louder, he made sure to do the same thing, over and over again, until you were a withering mess under him.

“More.” You pleaded, hips rocking up for the same loving treatment his mouth provided. “Please, Sukuna~ please~”

He pulled off your nipple with a —pop! One of his hands slid between your legs, rubbing circles against your inner thigh. He nipped and kissed your breasts as his hand moved further up, rubbing your pussy gently through your pants.

“You need more here?”

“Y-Yes! Please, fuck, wanna feel you inside~!”

“Inside?” He's running his flattened tongue over your other nipple. “Okay~ I’ll prep you for my cock. How does that sound?”

To feel his fingers deep inside of you was just what you needed.”P-Please!” Your needy little whines had him chuckling as he slipped his hand under your shorts and panties. “A-Ah~ Fu—fuuuck!” Thick fingers rub circles around your clit, teasing the little bud before he dips his hand further back.

“Nnng.” You're wet, so goddamn wet, it makes his cock hurt. “Mmmphm.” To anyone else? He would look angry. Eyebrows pinched together as he dips his fingers further back, rubbing them teasingly around your entrance. But you know he's just feral; he wants you so bad, to fuck you into the mattress, to make you cum. But at the same time, he doesn't want to hurt you.

There would be plenty of times to fuck you like he hated you in the future. Right now, at this moment in time, it was all about taking care of you. Making sure your first time was the best anyone could wish for.

“Ah~ ah~ hah!” But you were making it hard to hold back with those desperate mewls leaving your pretty lips.

“Goddamn.” He cursed, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “You're making it hard for me to hold back.” His finger dips between your folds, sliding from your entrance up to your hard clit, spreading your arousal all over.

The tiniest of moans rises in your throat. “I-I don't want you holding back.” Sukuna’s fingers freeze mid-stroke, crimson eyes widening.

“You don't?”

“No, Kuna, you've fingered me and stretched me out more times than I can count. I think I can handle your co—Oooh god!” Your words are bitten off as he shoves two of his thick fingers into your cunt. “O-Oh fuck!” Your desperate sobs make Suluna finger fuck you faster, causing your hands to fist at the sheets.

“You can barely handle two fingers.” Your boyfriend draws out, his fingers rubbing expertly over your gummy walls. “What makes you think you're anywhere close to taking my cock, huh?”

“I-I can ha-hah—” your head tilts back, “handle more!”

“Oh really?” In mid-thrust, as he's pulling out, he adds a third finger, sending you nearly over the edge just from the stretch. “Heh,” he lets out a husky laugh, “only three fingers in, and you're twitching. You dirty little girl~ are you seriously going to cum from this?” His finger curled, rubbing your spongy spot.

“Nngh!” your legs try to clamp down around him, but Sukuna forces them to stay open with his legs. “K-Kuna~ Kuna~!”

“Looks like I was right—” he pulls back, “you gonna cum, gonna squirt all in your shorts? Gonna make a fucking mess in them, seeing that I haven't taken them off of you yet.” His cock throbs painfully hard. “Well, go on then. Cum~ soak these shorts like the dirty little slut you are.”

His fingers press into your g-spot, and you're a goner. You squirt, your cum soaking his hand, your panties, and your shorts. It runs down your thighs as your legs shake, and drawn-out cries of pleasure have Sukuna’s eyes glued to your face. He watches you come down, fingers fixating the sheets, as his fingers work you down. Watching you cum so hard nearly had him cumming in his pants.

He pulls his fingers out when you release your grip on the sheets. Your whole body is relaxed as you sit up, staring into those crimson eyes you lost you’d lost yourself in three months before. His chest rises and falls, and he’s gripping the fabric of his gray sweats. You know he's trying to contain himself. He doesn't want to hurt you; he wants this to be perfect.

But it had been perfect; these last three months had been the best months of your entire life.

You grabbed his shirt, tugging it over his head; your fingers trailed over the black ink that ran over his shoulders and down his chest. His pectoral twitched as you traced the intricate designs before you moved lower and lower, your hands pulled at the drawstring of his sweat. His breathing was heavier, moving from rasps to low growls deep in his chest. You knew he was close to losing his grip on himself; he just needed another push.

Lifting your ass, you tugged your soaked shorts and panties off, throwing them at his chest. “Well?” You tried to sound confident and relaxed, but your voice came out shakier than intended. “ Are you going to fuck me?” You could see the outline of his cock twitch in his sweats as you pulled a condom out of your nightstand. “Or not?” you tore the condom open with your teeth, and Sukuna lost all the control he had.

His hands grab your face, kissing you as he pins you underneath him. You kiss him back, moaning as his hands leave your face, moving to pull his cock out before snatching the condom from your hands. You could have giggled at his antics; he acted like an excited man-child, but no giggles left you as you focused on his eyes.

They were dark, full of primal lust as he rolled the condom over his thick long cock. He was excited; no, he was driven by pure need. The raw need to fuck you, to be deep inside of you, and that had you panting along with him.

“You want me to fuck you?” his voice was so hoarse and deep as he shoved you down against the bed. “This is what you want?”

“Y-Yes Sukuna~ god yes!”

He spreads your legs, rubbing his cock against your clit. “Okay,” Sukuna whispered, “it might sting a little, but you tell me if you need a minute. Understand?” the second you nodded in agreement, he was gently prodding at your entrance before he started pushing in.

You gently grip his arms, shutting your eyes tight. There's a sharp, stinging pain that makes you wince. You tighten up, making Sukuna grunt softly, his hips pausing. You’re so tight and warm around him, so damn tight he might blow his load before he even really gets to fuck you.

“Fuck, y-you gotta relax.” Sukna grits out, head tilting forward as he concentrates on his breathing. “If you don't, I'm not gonna’ last.”

Hearing him say that was both a confidence boost and a bit worrisome. You were over the moon, knowing that he felt good! But you didn't want this to end yet. So you nodded, biting down on your lip as you relaxed. Sukuna could feel your walls loosen up just a bit, giving him the chance to push further inside.

“Haah!” you gasped out as his hips pressed against yours, his cock buried fully inside of you. “Ahh fuck.” your nails dug into his skin, your pussy twitching, trying to adjust yourself to the new feeling.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a second passed.

“Mhmm,” you breathed through your nose, “I feel so full.”

Sukuna leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. “Yeah?” He dragged his tongue up your neck. His teeth grazed your earlobe as he breathed deeply. “Do you like feeling like that? You like being full of my cock?” The dirty words made you twitch.

“H-Huh?!”

“I asked if you like my cock being inside of you.” he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. “You were being so vulgar earlier, figured you like this shit.” your boyfriend set a steady pace, gently pulling out and thrusting back into you. “So I'll ask you again, do you like my cock being inside your pussy? Is it everything you dreamed about?” his cock pressed deep inside, hitting your cervix. “Or is it better than you imagined~?”

“I-I like it!” Sukuna smirked, pulling back to look at your face. Your cheeks were burning a darker shade; your eyes were hazy with pleasure. “I-I like it a lot, Kuna~!”

“Good~ I want you to feel good~ I want this to be everything you wanted~”

In truth, it was better than you ever dreamed of. So many of your girlfriends told you sex hurt the first time. So you had been hesitant, especially with the mere size of your boyfriend's cock. You had assumed it would hurt, maybe even hurt worse.

Your irrational fears were precisely what they were: irrational. Sukuna made sure you were ready, prepped, and wet enough. Aside from the sharp stinging sensation, you felt no other pain, nothing but pleasure, the pleasure that had your arms wrapping around Sukuna's neck, pulling him down to kiss you fervently. You felt nothing but overwhelming pleasure as his thick cock plunged in and out of you, stretching you, pleasuring you.

Sukuna groaned, his tongue sliding into your mouth, swirling it around yours. The taste of chocolate and popcorn from your movie night lingered on your tongue. The sweetness of your kiss and the erotic sounds that swelled in your chest had him moving faster. He swallowed your whines and savored the stinging pain from scratches you left down his back. It left him craving more to make your first time so unbelievably good.

But he didn't want to hurt you. So he kept the same languid thrusts. His cock slammed into you as you cried out underneath him. Sukuna was willing to keep up the pace and be as gentle as possible. But the second you wrapped your legs around his waist, being gentle was a lost cause.

“Fuck me~ fuuuck ne~” Your needy demands had his eyes shut tight, self-control slipping. “Sukuna~ fuck me~!”

Hearing you call his name like that, with his cock buried deep in your pussy was his final straw. He grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, before he began fucking into you mercilessly. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you dug your nails into his toned back, dragging them down his skin. The pain felt good; you felt good!

“You’re such a good fuckin’ girl~ taking my cock like a professional when you're just a virgin~” his lips trailed kisses over your jaw. “You’re getting tighter; ya’ gonna cum soon~? Gonna cum all of my cock for the first time tonight~?”

“Y-Yes!” the broken whimper in your throat had Sukuna laughing against your skin. His hot breath only makes you wetter.

“Then why don't you be a good girl and cum on my cock~” One of his hands released your hip, sliding between you in search of your clit. But just before he could touch you, you were screaming.

“G-Gonna cum~ gonna cum~! Don't stop! Kuna~! Please! Pleeease!”

His eyes widened slightly before darkening with prideful smugness. “Oh fuck~ you're gonna cum from me just fucking you?”

“Y-Yeah! Don't stop!”

His hand returned to your hip. “Then do it, little slut~ do it~ cum all over my thick cock~” Knowing he was going to make you cum from just his cock had him sprinting toward the edge of his orgasm

“C-Cum—” you squealed as the head of his cock jammed into your sweet spot. “Oooooh! Haaah!” you screamed, toes curling, head thrashing, body shaking as your cunt squeezed around Sukuna’s cock.

“Shit~ shit, so good~! So fucking tight!”

Your boyfriend grunted before kissing up deeply fucking roughly into your still pulsating pussy. He moaned and growled into your mouth as you tried your best to keep up with him as he fucked into you like he was a wild animal. He shuddered, feeling his cum fill the condom.

“Hah—ha—-ahh.” you collapse against the bed, Sukuna following you, trying not to crush you under his weight. “Wow.”

Sukuna snorted against the crook of your neck. “Wow?” he lifted his head, smirking at you. “What did I fuck the words out of you?”

“No, you didn't, I just—” You pushed his pink tufts of hair back. “I always imagined this, ya know,” your nails gently scratched at his scalp, winning a satisfied groan from him. “I couldn't imagine it going any better than that.”

“Mm, “ he hummed, “are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“Honestly?”

The hesitation in your tone had Sukuna sitting up, his eyes roaming over you. “Where does it hurt?” You gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“I’m feeling amazing. But if I'm being honest, I wanna go again?” The shyness in your voice was all Sukuna needed to hear to relax. His cock twitching back to life at your needy confessions

“Wanna go again?” Sukuna pulled out of you, taking off the full condom before typing it up, tossing it into the small trash can in the corner of the room. Without a flaw, Sukuna grabbed another condom out of your nightstand, ripping it open with his teeth. “We'll go again.” In a flash, he had you flipped, face pressed into the pillows. “But this time, I won't be holding back~”

“Good!” turning your head to the side, you shook your ass teasingly against him. “I don't want you holding back.”

Sukuna laughed out loud, his hand fisting your hair, tugging it hand, forcing you into an arch. “Remember you said those exact words when you're crying fat tears into your pillow.” You bit your lip with a grin; this would be a long and fun night.

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nathaslosthershit · 3 days

Text

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite.

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow.

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other.

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently.

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this.

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently.

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’.

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t.

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says.

“I guess so.”

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader

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frannyzooey · 2 days

Text

Down the Hall

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)

A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️

He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same.

Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one.

He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own.

When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth.

He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed.

She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception.

Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live.

Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him.

That was what counted.

He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head.

He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid.

Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.

Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”

He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.

“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful.

When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.

“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”

His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there.

“Do you know when my mom gets home?”

He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”

You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head.

When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief.

It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease.

He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table.

“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss.

Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes.

He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear.

She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot.

“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were.

He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup.

“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?”

Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper.

“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you.

He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash.

Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you.

Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup.

The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach.

It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.

Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”

A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while.

“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.”

Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.

He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep.

Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind.

–

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool.

Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.

Fuck me.

The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.

“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”

Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him.

Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.

“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”

The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together.

The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer.

When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away.

You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep.

You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in.

Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in.

A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it.

You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night.

Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself.

When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up.

Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear.

You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness.

You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted.

He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen.

You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark.

Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline.

You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that.

–

“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”

Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end.

The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?”

She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows.

His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else.

–

For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it.

Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up.

And yet, he couldn’t stop.

He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself.

He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours.

The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever.

The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head.

He drank a glass of water, listening.

The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor).

He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs.

He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone.

His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in.

“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs.

“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.

“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”

You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned.

“In here?”

You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”

You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding.

You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased.

“Let me go get changed.”

He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her. Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt.

The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes.

They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats.

They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.

You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you.

He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.

–

Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen.

Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep.

Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black

Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark.

The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him.

“What did you think?” you asked quietly.

He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths.

Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging.

“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”

He then started to slide off the bed.

Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled.

Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop.

Bending down, he kissed you.

It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip.

You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso.

His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.

“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat.

Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin.

“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.

As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts.

His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit.

“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”

You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”

He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.

“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”

A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers.

Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand.

You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan.

“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”

His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off.

Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head.

“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in.

Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it.

He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been.

“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”

Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours.

He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek.

You shook your head.

“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”

“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace.

“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”

His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”

Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat.

You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone.

His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate.

“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”

You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release.

He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine.

“You gonna come?”

You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months –

Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it.

“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head.

“Do it,” you whined.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below.

“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths.

You stared right back, holding him tight.

“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you.

You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw.

He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat.

“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”

We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone.

“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”

You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him.

The way he wanted you to need him all along.

His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue.

“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

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rreids · 2 days

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LUNCH BREAK • A. HOTCHNER X READER

fluff; kisses; they just really love each other; reader gives hotch presents; ~500 words; gifs is just bc he's pretty he's v sweet here

an ask from @cerisereids for my sleepover event. prompts: i got you something; i know, your favorite, right?

Hotch had been busy lately. More than normal — personnel reviews, psych evals, yearly and quarterly needs all falling in the same two week window –, and he came home exhausted.

You knew you had permission to visit at work and that he’d never turn you away, but you never took him up on it, shy at the idea. Today, you’d decided to brave your fears.

With a gift bag, coffee, and lunch in hand, you braced yourself before the doors to the BAU. You tried not to shrink under the curious stare of his team, other agents, and analysts as they paused in their work to study you, but your steps became more hurried as you made your way to his office.

You couldn’t maneuver your arms to knock, so you just pushed it open. Aaron’s head rises, mouth opening — probably to chide whoever would come in without notice — before pausing, breaking into a grin as you awkwardly shut it behind you.

“This is a surprise, sweetheart,” he can’t stop smiling, standing and giving you a short kiss before helping settle everything you held on his desk. “Special occasion?”

You shake your head. “Just thought you could use a little pick me up with everything.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek before drawing his chair to sit next to you, fondly studying every plane of your face. “What is all of it?

“Well, coffee — I know you all have a machine, but this is good coffee, not precinct coffee…” his lips quirk up into a smile. “Um, lunch. I got Chinese from this place by home, I hope it’s okay — the fried rice has pineapple! I thought it sounded good.”

He tilts his head and looks pointedly at the bag. “And that?”

Your face burns with heat. “I got you something.”

“Clearly,” he deadpans. “What is it?”

You beam at him. “Open it.”

He sighs but obliges, making a show of pulling out the tissue paper to hear you giggle in delight. His brow furrows as he places the items before he smiles — a new tie, from his favorite brand; a keychain you’d made with a photo with you, him, and Jack; and flowers, red and white roses and lilies.

“You got me flowers?” His voice is impossibly soft and fond.

“Yeah.”

“They’re so pretty.”

“I know,” you smile. “Your favorite, right?”

He’d never really mentioned that, but when you first started dating you noticed he’d have flowers on his table or on a cabinet, and they were always lilies, roses, or a potted plant of some other variation. But the bouquets didn’t change.

“Yeah. My favorite.”

He leans over to kiss you as he sets the flowers down on his desk, unable to stop smiling. “Can you help me put the tie on?”

You nod and quickly undo the one he’s already in, brow furrowing and your lip tucking between your teeth as you carefully and delicately tie and smooth the fabric over his shirt. “Handsome.”

Aaron smiles. “Let’s eat. It’ll get cold.”

He places his hand on your thigh, a casual intimacy that stays between laughs and conversation for the whole meal.

please assume that the bau are being nosy as fuck and comment on the new tie after, thank you. i also like to think that even if it wasn't a clear these are my absolute favorite! in regards to the flowers and was more of a i like the look, they're his favorite now.

#my works #📚 sleepover #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fluff

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barcaatthemoon · 3 days

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lullaby || lucy bronze x reader ||

you comfort lucy when she comes to your room after rachel's last game.

you weren't the least bit surprised to find lucy outside of your room after the game. more than a few of the girls had all grouped together for comfort after rachel's last game. lucy had held strong for the camp, having been warned earlier on by rachel herself. you had also been warned, but yours was more to make it easier to look out for lucy.

"can i sleep over tonight?" lucy asked you. keira had already gone to georgia and leah's rooms for the night. you were sure that a lot more girls were piled into the captain's room than just the three best friends, but what mattered was that lucy had come to you.

"of course you can," you told her. it wasn't late enough to sleep just yet, but lucy went straight to the bed. she laid down and curled up a little, something that you only saw her do whenever she was really upset. lucy ignored you as you moved around the room, grabbing a couple of water bottles for the two of you before you got into bed with her. "do you want to talk about it?"

"i don't want to talk about anything," lucy grumbled. you frowned a little to yourself, but let it go. lucy rested her head on your chest and grabbed onto your hand, squeezing it slightly. "do something, it's too quiet in here."

you're momentarily at a loss about what to do until you remember the night that keira and lucy had truly called it quits. it wasn't necessarily a good night for anybody, but it was definitely the start of your relationship.

…

"she don't want me no more." there was nothing scarier to you than a teary-eyed lucy bronze. you knew that lucy had planned on going over to keira's to talk after their last little argument. they had broken up twice already, but agreed to work things out. this time, hadn't been successful for lucy.

"luce, i'm sorry," you apologized to her. it wasn't your fault, and the apology only really made her kind of angry, but you didn't know what to do. lucy wasn't one to open up emotionally, especially not to you.

for the most part, lucy had no idea why she had come to your apartment. you weren't her friend, you were keira's. that was something you had made clear every single time that lucy had messed up in the past. however, there was still the part of lucy's brain that knew things weren't like that anymore.

somewhere along the line, something that shifted between the two of you. nothing had been acted on, but lucy had caught her eyes lingering on you for a little longer than normal. you had thoughts in a similar vein about lucy, and if it wasn't for keira being one of your best friends, you would have acted on your feelings.

"i just need somewhere to be for a while. can't be getting myself in trouble," lucy said. her accent was thicker through the tears. you nodded as you pulled her into your apartment. almost immediately, your cat raced across the living room to get as far away from lucy as he could. "little rat faced bastard."

"luce, be nice!" you hissed as you swatted at her shoulder.

"i'm over here crying and getting hissed at, so you hit me!" lucy shouted. you placed your hands on her arms, rubbing gently to try and soothe her. lucy moved like she was about to shove you away from her, only to surprise you by melting into your arms completely. she broke apart into a fit of sobs as your arms moved to hold her.

"hey, hey, it's okay," you whispered softly. lucy grabbed onto the back of your shirt and tugged you closer to her. you hummed nervously, unable to move away. slowly, you managed to get lucy to let you guide the two of you towards one of the chairs in your living room.

you picked the big, comfy one. everybody teased you for it being an eyesore, but you loved it. the pattern was hideous, but you had never sat in a more comfortable recliner in your entire life. as your body hit the back of the seat with lucy's on your lap, you were grateful for the slightly oversized chair.

lucy cried in your arms as you continued to hum. slowly, the hums grew into broken pieces of songs that you could remember. lucy's sniffles and sobs slowly came to a stop. you figured that she'd want you to be quiet now that she was done cry, but she pipped up at the first bit of prolonged silence.

"no, don't stop. i like the sound of your voice," lucy told you. she sounded a little whiny, but you weren't going to tease her for it. you started in on another little song, this time stopping when you saw lucy staring at you. it wasn't in annoyance or amusement like what you had grown accustomed to. this stare was different, and it made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

"luce?"

"don't let me ruin this, please," lucy muttered. you had originally thought it was intended for you to hear, but once lucy pressed her lips to yours, you realized that it was a prayer of sorts.

…

you glanced down at lucy as she laid on your chest. her breathing had evened out finally, soft snores echoing each breath. you quietly snapped a picture for your phone, something that you'd want whenever the two of you went back to barcelona and she decided to pretend that this had never happened.

there were a few texts on your phone when you checked it. the first you saw was one from keira, warning you not to let lucy ruin your shirt with drool. you chuckled quietly to yourself, almost certain that it was only a matter of time before the puddle formed. the next couple were from rachel and millie, both women asking how lucy was doing. she had worried a lot of your teammates during rachel's celebratory dinner, even though she had been actively trying not to.

"stop moving around so much," lucy grumbled as she tugged your body closer to hers. "'m trying to sleep."

"it was just rach, she was wishing me a good night's rest," you said. lucy grumbled something, but it was muffled by her face being buried against your body. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

"tell her to fuck off. this is my time with you," lucy grumbled. you smiled as you placed your hand on her head to tip it back. she looked up at you with half-closed eyes and a pout, which you found adorable. "what the hell do you want?"

"a kiss, but if you're going to be an ass, i'll just go get one from someone else," you answered. lucy obviously did not like that answer as she shot up and pinned you beneath her on the mattress.

"who told you that you could kiss other girls?" lucy asked. she was getting possessive, like she tended to on your nights out with the team, but lucy never really did much other than fuck you.

"it's not like i've got a girlfriend, now is it?" you countered. lucy furrowed her brows, seemingly ready to give in to your one demand. you had been dropping all sorts of hints, doing everything short of actually giving her an ultimatum.

"sing me another song, and i'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow before we leave. a nice little date for just the two of us, but (y/n), are you sure about this? am i really who you want?" lucy asked you. she knew that you had gotten very close to hooking up with a couple of other girls on both the lionesses and at barcelona.

"lucy, you would not be in my bed right now if i wasn't sure. do you think i just sing every pretty little bird that crosses my path to sleep? what kind of woman do you take me for?" you pretended to be offended, up until lucy cradled your face and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"my deepest apologies, and for the record, i think you're like some sort of disney princess. the kind that would give ingrid a run for her money," lucy complimented. "so, do you want to be my girlfriend? i think you've kind of had the position for a while, but might as well make it offical, yeah?"

"might as well, yeah," you echoed. lucy smiled, this time pulling you into her arms. you let the music resume on your phone, singing along to the songs until you felt lucy's body relax beneath yours.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

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landosjpg · 16 hours

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from my pov | ln

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: heavily implied body dysmorphia, disordered eating, insecurities, COMFORT

note: based on this request. despite of the previous warnings and this being more of a comfort blurb, i feel the need to clarify that i am NOT encouraging these behaviors and, as some sensitive topics are discussed, please DO NOT READ if this could be triggering for you or have any kind of negative impact on your mental health. i am also writing this from my own experience with these topics; everyone’s experience is different, so please be respectful.

and last, but obviously not least, if you’re going through something like this (or through anything, really) PLEASE REACH OUT! and if you’re not ready to do so, for whatever reason it might be, reminder that my messages are always open for anyone who needs a little rant or anything i could potentially help with.

and lastly, i don’t know how i feel about this one (yes i’m insecure about everything i post, leave me alone) so please share your thoughts with me as always <3

it had started only a few weeks ago. summer was around the corner, and inevitably, your social media was filled with girls in tiny crop tops or “summer body” posts.

normally, you wouldn’t pay too much attention to them; you liked your body the way it was.

but this year it was different. the stress of the past few weeks had a bigger impact on you that you ever expected.

the first time you noticed you were trying your summer clothes on. the skirt you loved being a little tighter than the last time you had used it.

it was only a few pounds, no one could really notice. but you could.

you shouldn’t have give it a second thought, but insecurities got the best of you and that very same moment you had decided that you needed to do something about it.

you would just stop snacking in between meals. you had it all under control, and in to time you would feel good about yourself again.

that’s what you told yourself.

but your rule of no snacking soon turned into skipping breakfast quite often and trying to make your meals as light as possible.

but you found yourself checking your body in the mirror more often than not whenever you were left alone.

“i’m back!” you heard your boyfriend announce, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of lando finding you like that, so you tried to put on your clothes as quickly as possible and wiped your tears from your cheeks before walking out of the bathroom.

you slowly paced to the kitchen where you knew he was, one of his hoodies over your body and your eyes inevitably red and puffy.

when you entered the kitchen, you didn’t even need to say anything for him to knew you where there, even with his back turned to you.

“got us dinner,” he said, taking the food out of a white plastic bag. “your favorite.”

you could feel his smile even when he still hadn’t turned to look at you yet, and it broke your heart a little that you weren’t in the mood for some junk food.

when your eyes met his, his face softened at the sight of you. he knew you were feeling down, but he also knew better than to ask. you would tell him, eventually.

“go choose a movie,” he uttered, voice tender. “i’ll be there in a second.”

you nodded and walked to the living room, sitting on the couch and trying to find a movie that could lift your mood up. just a little bit, at least.

it worked, for the last half of the movie; it eased off your worries for some time, and you found yourself lying on top of your boyfriend, worries about your recent insecurities now gone for a while.

you heard him sigh, his fingers brushing your hair softly as you rested your head on his chest with your eyes closed.

“tell me what’s up,” he whispered. “you’ve barely touched your food.”

“i’m not hungry,” you answered, making him roll his eyes.

“don’t lie to me.”

despite his insistence, he wasn’t mad; his tone was still gentle, and one of his hands slipped under your shirt to softly caress the skin of your waist. the touch that normally would have made you feel instantly better, this time making you tense a little. and he noticed, so he squeezed your side, urging you to speak.

“i just haven’t been feeling good lately,” you mumbled after a few seconds, your voice muffled as you were hiding your face in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“hm?” he only hummed in response, kissing the top of your head and waiting for you to explain further, not really wanting to push you.

“i’ve put on a few pounds these past weeks,” your words were barely audible, voicing your insecurities was never an easy task.

lando heard you, though.

“that’s not a bad thing.”

“but it is,” you cut him off before he could add something else. his hand slowly rubbed your back as he took a deep breath. “you’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

he chuckled, “don’t be silly.”

lando squeezed you in his arms and planted another soothing kiss to your temple, trying to find the correct words to say.

“i’m not saying that just because i’m your boyfriend,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. he held your chin and made you look at him. “you’re gorgeous, baby. everyone can see that.”

your lips formed a little pout as you heard your boyfriend’s words, which he was quick to kiss away.

“and nothing will change that, ever,” his eyes met your teary ones, the corners of his lips perking up at your vulnerable state.

“but i…”

“nuh huh,” he cut you off immediately with a slight shake of his head. “no ‘buts’, love. you look perfect to me.”

he softly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he spoke, his eyes soft and his touch gentle when he then cupped your cheek.

“i wish you could see yourself with my eyes,” his whisper made you sigh as he nuzzled his nose softly against yours, comforting and sweet. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, baby.”

“do you really mean it?” your eyes fluttered closed as you spoke, eyelashes resting on your cheeks.

“of course i do,” you could hear the small smile on his lips as he reassured you once again, the fingers that slowly creeped up the side of your body tickling your skin.

a sigh escaped your lips, your arms circling around your boyfriend’s neck as you pressed your lips against his in silent gratitude.

how lucky of a girl you were, you thought, for him to be just yours.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #ln #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff

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hewwokitti · 2 days

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Brat (JJ Maybank x Reader)

It’s not like you mean to be a brat sometimes it just comes out. You know JJ doesn’t like when you’re rude and you’re good- at least getting better- at controlling your mouth but your facial expressions need work. So that's how you found yourself with JJ’s hand firmly on the back of your neck, pushing you into the chateau after sneering at something John B said.

“How many- How many fuckin times do i have to tell ya to fix your damn face huh? I ain’t playin with you today. Get your ass in there”

Yup you’re screwed.

He bullies you inside, smacking the globe of your ass all the while.

“JJ.. I’m sorry, I-“ you’re cut off as he roughly grabs your face, making you squeal.

“Yeah… Yeah you’re boutta be REAL sorry here soon dolly. You know where I want you c’mon.”

And you do, assuming the usual position on the bed, ass up, cheek against the undone bed. He comes up behind you, rough hand pushing your face into the mattress even more. “I keep tellin you kitty to play nice huh? don’t need you bein a bitch to my friends.” JJ emphasizes his words by pushing your face harder, making you cry out.

“Shh shh shhh” he utters condescendingly, while flipping your flimsy skirt up, rubbing the now exposed flesh. “don’t want them to hear how much of a bitch ya are for papa hmm?”

You screw your eyes shut, whimpering softly. He’s right, the pouges are right outside and any loud sounds would be sure to make their way to your shared friend’s ears.

Your thoughts are cut off by the sharp sting of JJ’s hand colliding with your ass, feeling the flesh jiggle at the impact “Answer me” he barks.

“n-no!!” you wail. JJ grins.

He pulls your head up by your hair, leaning over you, lips pressed against your ear. “Now, you’re gonna be good for me hmm? gonna take this dick then, ya gonna walk this ass,” he grabs a handful tightly, making your eyes roll back, “back out there n apologize”

“Y-Yes im sorry!” you say.

“mmm save it, you’re not sorry yet.” JJ says, as he throws your head back down. “Don’t even wanna look at ya right now, got me pissed the fuck off, that what you wanted?” He unbuckles his pants and ties the belt around your neck like a collar, using the long tail like a leash.

He rams into you, making you let out a garbled scream as he pounds into you, teeth bared giving you his all.

“Yeah, this is what you needed. Gotta get the bitch fucked outta ya don’t ya? Fuckin whore.”

The tight belt around your neck makes your head swim, all you can feel is JJ… JJ… JJ.

“Nah nah nah what’s my name kitty?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve been saying that aloud but with the way your blood circulation has been cut off, you can’t realize anything other than his dick deep in your guts. “D-daddy-y-y” you whine out, speech almost incoherent with the rhythm of his bruising thrusts.

“That’s right kitty, I’m your daddy, I’m your fucking daddy… jesus kitty you’re squeezing the life outta me SHIT you’re such a WHORE”

His harsh words make your eyes roll back, the only thing keeping your face up is JJ’s pull of the belt. The moans you let out are staccato, more like high pitched grunts, long nails clawing at the belt but not tapping out yet.

“O-oh man, you gonna cum kitty? don’t lie to me, can fuckin FEEL it” JJ spits out.

You nod vigorously, unable to speak, pushing back against him as best you can.

“FU-Uck yeah kitty cum with me c’mon” he let’s go of the belt, the rush of blood back into your head makes you squirt around him, screaming his name between gasps of breath as you flop onto the bed. JJ growls as he empties inside, thrusts slowing but not stopping making your toes curl with the overstimulation.

“There ya go kitty hmm? don’t that feel better?” He rubs your back as you let out little gasps and twitches.

After a while, once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s helping you clean up, getting you into comfy PJs.

“Okay mama, you good?” he holds your face in his hands, lifting it up casually to inspect your throat, a red rim of his belt mark makes him feel just the tiniest bit bad. He massages it as you croak out “‘m good now J”

He hums in response, “A’ight then, up you get, there’s some apologies ya gotta make now hmm?”

reblogs n likes apreciated! lemme know ur thoughts are requests

thank you to @rafeysdoll (ofc) @siriusly-star-crossed, @monkichixo for proofreading!

#jj maybank x reader #animatedglittergraphics-n-more #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank fic #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow smut #jj maybank smut

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hazyhae · 1 day

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stuffy | ljn

plug!jeno x fem!reader

summary: the only way you see him is in the low lights of his stuffy room, but you can't stop coming back for more.

wc: 1.8k 18+ mdni

cw: fwb to ???, dom!jeno, mostly smut, angst, fluff at end, weed use, shotgunning, mentions of addiction (not weed), protected pinv sex, big dick jeno, fingering, edging/overstim, light slapping like once, pet names: baby, pretty, good girl

happy jeno day and belated 4/20! ♡

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you’re addicted.

you never were one to smoke, to drink — to indulge in substances that altered your mind. never one to indulge in people who altered your mind.

yet every saturday, your legs take you to the house at the end of the block, up the stairs, and down the hall to a door on your right, plastered with a plain black sign reading “do not enter.” you knock anyways, knowing that sign doesn’t apply to you — he knows you’re coming.

when your knock is not answered, you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to check if he’s in there. he’s always in there, but the music blasting downstairs doesn’t make it any easier to figure it out. you close your eyes, turning to lean your forehead on the door.

should you go home? it’s not too late to. maybe it’s time to break this cycle.

your thoughts distract you from the steps leading to the door, and you almost fall forward as the door opens abruptly, the pungent scent of weed hitting your nose almost immediately. strong arms steady you as you look up.

“took you long enough.”

his deep voice, made even raspier by the flower in his lungs, sends a wave down your spine. ah, yes. there’s no way you could miss out on him, knowing that if you did go home, just the thought of being in his arms would send you running right back.

“hi, jeno.”

he leads you in, closing the door behind you. his room is a bit stuffy as always from the constant hotboxing, and you take your usual spot on his bed as he packs you a fresh bowl, wordless as his hands do all the work.

it’s always like this — quiet, yet with an understanding you hope is shared by only you two. you know he hates when people are too loud, and if you’re being honest, you don’t really know what to say around him.

he hands you his bong, painted with his initials, and lights the ground leaves for you as you press your lips to the mouthpiece. you’ve done this enough times since the first time he taught you to, and you let the chamber fill with smoke. he takes the bowl off, letting the smoke jet down your throat, and you take it.

“that’s good, baby.”

his praise sends shivers, and you take more and more hits, wanting to hear more, even if you know he won’t say too much. but even if he doesn’t say anything, the smirk on his face lets you know he’s proud.

“hold that one in,” he instructs as you take your nth hit, having lost count a long time ago. he comes closer to you, and with a firm grip on the back of your neck, brings your face closer to his until your lips are just hovering. the smoke threatens to seep out of your mouth, but you hold on for him. he pecks you on the lips before tapping you lightly on the cheek.

“good girl, now give it to me.”

you let go, and jeno crashes his lips into yours, letting the smoke seep out between your messy mouths, your highs making everything just so sloppy. his hands snake around your waist, hands trailing up to explore the skin under your shirt as his lips remain attached to yours.

you let him do this every time, and you want him to. every day of the week feels like a waiting game for the next time you’ll have his hands on you, hazy bodies of even hazier minds intertwined in his stuffy little room.

your clothes come off, and so do his, with some mention of the stuffiness, but your mind is just focused on jeno. his glossed over, red eyes peer into yours as your gaze follows his trail of kisses down your chest, to your abdomen, and finally settling between your legs. he spreads your folds, grinning to see you already glistening for him.

“you wanted to see me so bad, didn’t you, pretty?” his thumb trails lightly up and down your slit as you gasp at the contact, moaning at how just the lightest of his touches can send you into a frenzy.

while jeno values silence, it irritates him in bed. he asked you a question. his thumb dips into your entrance without warning, starting to stretch you out. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, everything being even more heightened by the drugs coursing through your blood.

“answer me.” his thumb moves in and out, other digits going to rub circles into your clit. “you didn’t want to see me?” he coos with a slight fake pout.

“no!” you finally snap out of your high daze temporarily to answer him. jeno chuckles. he thinks you’re so cute like this, so pliable and needy for him. “i wanted to see you, was thinking about it all week.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, one of his hands leaving to pump at his already hard member. “was thinking about you all week, too.” both hands leave you, and you whine at the loss of contact, but jeno just slaps at your thigh lightly.

“be patient, you’ll get what you want.” you hear rustling, and look down to see him lowering a condom onto his member. your mouth drools at his size, sitting heavy in his hand as he hisses at the tight rubber. if you could take a picture, you would, but for now you’ll settle for burning it into your memories.

he doesn’t immediately enter you, going back between your legs. he rubs up and down your slit with 2 long fingers before pushing them into you. like earlier, the intrusion sends shocks, but each ridge of his knuckles has your mind reeling. he slowly pushes them in and out, curling his fingers up every so often as you writhe beneath him.

with how sensitive the weed makes you, you know you aren’t gonna last long, especially when he starts thumbing at your clit again. but jeno knows what he wants. his fingers move faster and faster — he knows he’s good with his hands, and his lips curl up as he feels the familiar pulsing.

your legs start to writhe more and more with each thrust and swipe, and you can feel the band in your stomach tightening and tightening, threatening to snap. eyes rolling up, you are just seconds away from your peak —

you gasp as he rips his fingers out of you, almost crying at the loss, only to get the wind knocked out of you as something else, way bigger and hotter, enters you in one swoop. your mouth opens, but no sound comes out as you cum hard.

jeno groans as he feels your tight cunt pulse around him, even more turned on by you cumming from him just entering you. he has to compose himself, also super sensitive from the weed. but this is what he wanted — feeling you wrapped around him, inner walls massaging him. he takes pride in the way your body reacts exactly like he wants it to.

“so fucking tight.” your pussy is gripping firmly as your hands fist his pillows beneath your head. he plants his feet, making his way down to kiss you as his hands interweave with yours, pinning your hands beside you.

“take it, baby.” his hips start to move. “i know you can.”

in no time, his hips begin to piston, deep grunts in time with the moans leaving you, sensitive and overstimulated cunt taking all of him in, doing exactly what he told you to. you always do what he tells you to. every snap of his hips has you seeing stars, hands holding onto his for dear life.

he’s not gonna last long, grunting and panting at the feeling of your pussy tightening even more at the onset of another undoing. your cries get louder and louder, unable to form any words as his movements numb your mind further and further.

“f-fuck, always so fucking good for me.” his hips start to get uncoordinated, but a harsh stutter has you cumming around him once more. he grits his teeth as his hips slap against yours harshly, cumming with a loud groan as his hips still.

he twitches a bit as he comes down, moving his gaze to you catching your breath as your eyes flutter. he plants a deep kiss on your lips before hissing at the feeling of his softened member leaving you.

separating from you, he removes the condom, tying it and chucking it into the bin next to his desk. he puts on a t-shirt and sweats, and silently walks out the door, glancing at your spent form on his bed.

you’ve caught your breath, and your heart sinks as you realize it’s your time to leave. to wait another whole week before you can do this again. to go through the motions of dealing with this desire for a man you only know in the low lights and stuffy feeling of his room or from the orders he drops off weekly to your roommate.

you know can’t overstep, so you reluctantly get up to put your clothes on, assuming that as always, he’ll come back long after you’ve left.

you finish dressing, but the door opens again before you even reach it. jeno stands there, two cups of water in his hands. why is he back so soon?

“sorry, was on the way out.” you move to brush past him, but to your surprise, he blocks your path.

“here.” he offers you one of the cups, and your eyes move from the cup up to his face. an expression you’ve never seen on him before graces his features, and he looks almost.. shy? you take the cup gratefully, and take a sip as jeno closes his door. your eyes follow as he climbs on his bed to open the only window in the room, letting a pleasant breeze in.

he looks back at you, patting the bed next to him.

“stay over?”

you move on autopilot, unable to deny him as you climb into his bed. as you close your eyes, resting in this warm embrace, once cold and temporary, you hold on tight as he lulls you to sleep. your thoughts are all over the place, but of one thing you’re sure.

you’re addicted, but so is he.

end.

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a/n: surprise!! it's almost 2am rn and i have so many things on my writing list but was somehow miraculously able to get this out really quickly for jeno day!! i wanted to make him a scarier plug and end the fic sadly but u all know me.. i cant do that :'o i've been kind of less active bc i've been super busy and tired recently, but i hope everyone is doing well! feedback and shares are always appreciated

-coco♡

#coco works #coco writes #nct smut #nct dream x reader #jeno smut #jeno x reader #stoner!nct #nct fluff #nct angst #nct #nct fic #nct scenarios #nct hard thoughts #it's almost 2am but i wanted to post it while its still jeno day officially lmao

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loriache · 2 days

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Kabru, impossible mutual understanding & unknowable objects

Despite his concerted and constant efforts to understand other people, it’s established in a few extras that Kabru believes that true mutual understanding between certain different races is impossible. Specifically, between long-lived and short-lived races, and between humans and demi-humans. Partially, we can trace this conviction back to specific hang-ups caused by his life; the trauma of the Utaya disaster, prejudices he carries from his childhood, and his experience of racism among the elves. In this “little” essay, I’m gonna discuss how I think those experiences formed this belief, how it comes out in his actions, and how some of his actions seem to contradict it. The question of whether it’s possible to reach mutual understanding with other living beings despite our differences is one of the core themes of the manga, and I’ll also touch on how this aspect of Kabru’s character links to that.

Seeking understanding

Kabru is a character who devotes a huge amount of time and effort to understanding people, and he is very good at it. In his internal monologue, we can tell how advanced and complex his skills of analysis are. He is able to read a huge amount of information just from looking at people's faces and body language.

People are, to him, what monsters are to Laios. This is something that's been expanded on at length in other, excellent meta. It's the fact that they're foils; it's the fact that Kabru is also very easy to read as autistic, with a special interest which is the opposite and parallel of Laios'. It's something that came out of trauma and alienation, as Laios' special interest in monsters also began as a coping mechanism.

The complicated origin of this "love" for monsters and for people comes through, I think, in the fact that one of the places we see both characters use their fixation is in being very, very good at killing the thing that they love. This also ties into the idea that loving something isn't even remotely mutually exclusive with using it to sustain your own survival; using it for your own purposes; hurting it or killing it. Love can be, and often is, violent, possessive and consumptive. This understanding is part of what makes Kui's depiction of interpersonal relationships so compelling to me.

While Laios fixated on monsters and animals to seek a place of escape, in both his imagination and his self-image, from the humans who he couldn't understand and who couldn't understand him, Kabru seems to have fixated on understanding people in order to navigate the complex, socially marginal places that he has been forced into throughout his life. As an illegitimate child raised by a single mother with an appearance that marked him out as different to the point his father's family wanted to kill him, and a tallman child raised among elves who didn't treat him as fully human and wanted him to perform gratefulness for that treatment – treatment that, after he met Rin at age 9, he certainly always understood could be a lot worse – his ability to work out what people wanted from him, whether they were friendly or hostile or had ulterior motives, wasn’t just an interest. It will have been an essential skill.

Milsiril, I think, was a flawed parent who tried to do her best by Kabru and did a lot of harm to him despite her best intentions. She may have treated him much better than an average elf would have, but like Otta and Marcille's mother, there are other elves with different outlooks on short-lived races. How would they judge her treatment of him? We don’t have any insight on what it could be, but to be honest, the person’s whose opinion of her I’d be most interested in knowing is Rin’s.

But even if she'd been perfect, living as an trans-racial adoptee in a deeply hierarchical nation with a queen who is a 'staunch traditionalist' who wouldn't even acknowledge the existence of a half-elf like Marcille (according to Cithis) is an experience that would deeply impact anyone.

Elves & Impossible mutual understanding

While Kabru was living with Milsiril - in other words, while living in the Northern Central Continent - he came to believe that "there was no way to achieve mutual understanding with the long-lived races."

This is evident in his political project: he wants short-lived races to have ownership over the dungeon's secrets. Despite his dislike of the Lord of the Island, he's a useful bulwark to stop the elves taking over. Despite his doubts about Laios, Laios needs to be the one to defeat the dungeon, because if he doesn't the elves will take over.

Kabru still carries a deep scar from Utaya, one that was exacerbated by the fact that he never got an answer to any of his questions about what happened or why. This, despite the fact that Milsiril knows about the demon and how it works. Do you think Kabru, with his social perceptiveness that borders on the superhuman, wasn't aware that she knew more than she would tell him?

Given that, the fact that he gets to a place where he "doesn't have any particularly negative feelings about [elves/long-lived species]" .... well, to put it bluntly, I believe that he thinks that's the case, but I kind of doubt it. After all, if he did have resentment, of Milsiril (someone who was his primary provider and caretaker since age six, and who despite her flaws, loves him and who I do think he loves) or of elves (who he has had to play nice with for most of his life, in order to survive, and will still have to play nice with in order to achieve his goals, since they hold all the power) what would that do except hurt him and make his life harder? Kabru is Mr. Pragmatic, so I don't think he'd let himself acknowledge any such feelings he did have. Exactly because he can't acknowledge them, they're well placed to get internalised as beliefs about the Fundamental Unchangeable Nature of the World.

However, these stated beliefs seem to contradict his actions. Despite his belief in the impossibility of forming a mutual understanding, he certainly seems to try to understand long-lived people, just as much as he does short-lived people. There's no noticeable difference between his treatment of Daya & Holm versus Mickbell & Rin that isn't clearly down to their relationship with him. His skills of human analysis were honed and developed while living amongst elves, and as soon as he's alone with Mithrun he immediately sets to understanding him - his interests, his motivations, his needs, and his past.

He treats him considerately and without bias, and despite the fact that Mithrun conquering the dungeon for the elves is both a reenactment of a core part of his childhood trauma and a political disaster for his aims, that doesn't seem to colour his perspective on Mithrun negatively at all.

This is something I find extremely laudable about Kabru, and it's another way he parallels Laios. He seems to understand that people, as a rule, (in Laios' case, he understands this about monsters - and eventually, all living beings) will act in their own interests, and if those interests conflict with yours, might harm you. But that's just their nature, and it's not something that should be held against them; you're also doing the same thing, after all. The crux of Laios' arc is precisely that he has to accept the responsibility of hurting someone else in order to achieve what he wants.

Kabru is deeply concerned with his own morals, what he should and shouldn't do, but mostly in the context of responsibility for the consequences - a responsibility he takes onto himself. He isn't scrupulous about what he needs to do in order to create the outcome he wants, but if he fails to create that outcome, then....

He blames himself to the point of thinking he should die. He doesn't blame Laios, or seem at all angry with him, despite concluding he should have killed him to prevent this outcome. That's because in his eyes, ultimately Laios was going to act according to his own nature, and it's Kabru's fault for not understanding that nature well enough. He's extremely confident in his ability to understand and predict others, (including elves and other long-lived people). Then, where does his conviction that mutual understanding is impossible come from?

Partially, it's the "mutual" part. I'm sure Kabru, who isn't able or willing to deny Otta's insinuation that Milsiril saw him more like a pet than a son, has felt that his full interiority, the depth of his feelings and his ability to grow, act, and think as a fully equal being, was something that the elves around him just couldn't grasp. Because that was their excuse for it, he came to understand this as a gulf between short-lived and long-lived beings, an inevitable difference in outlook caused by their different lifespans.

This experience might be part of what leads to his iconic “fake” behaviour. He trusts his ability to understand others, but if they aren’t able to understand him, then there isn’t any benefit to being honest about his feelings and thoughts. If his attempts to reach mutual understanding with his caretakers were never able to be fulfilled, then it isn’t any wonder that he reacts with such surprise and horror at blurting out his desire to be Laios’ friend.

In his experience, making yourself vulnerable in that way only leads to being hurt. Soothing him, hushing him, lying to him, talking to him like a child that isn’t able to use proper judgement – that’s an inadequate and deeply hurtful way to respond to genuine distress, the desire for autonomy, or disagreement. Ultimately, I think that’s why he comes out on the side of being grateful to Milsiril; because she did equip him with the skills and knowledge he’d need to reach his goal, and let him go.

Though he could understand them, they couldn't understand him. To the extent that was true - which I'm sure it was - it wasn't due to anything about lifespan. It was due to the elves’ racism, and the solipsitic mindset & prejudiced attitude that it caused them to approach him with.

Because, if it needs to be said, the idea that there is an unbreachable gap in understanding between the long-lived and short-lived species is not true. Marcille and Laios have a much greater difference in lifespan than any full elf from any short-lived person, and they’re able to understand each other – maybe not perfectly, but better than many other people who are closer in life-span to them.

That doesn’t mean that I think Kabru is wrong about this, however. Because there’s an interpretation of his statement that is reflected in his actions and is true. When he talks about his problem with elves, it’s not just their attitudes: it’s their power, and what they use it to do. They “explain nothing and take everything”. Though it’s presented in the guise of ‘guiding and protecting’, in fact it’s a simple case of a powerful nation using their military power, wealth, access to resources, and historically stolen land – including the island itself – to protect their own interests and advance their own agenda. That’s why they’d be able to show up, seize the dungeon, and forcibly take Kabru’s party and Laios’ party to the West. If Kabru wants to stop that from happening, or change that status quo, persuasion or a bid to be understood would be completely pointless. Between the political blocs formed by long-lived species and the interests of short-lived species, “mutual understanding”, given their current, unequal terms, would be impossible. This is something that we see reflected in Kabru’s actions; before he asks his questions about the dungeon, he grabs Mithrun as leverage. He never really attempts to persuade the canaries to see his point of view, because that would be pointless: they’re agents of the Northern Central Continent’s monarchy, and will act in its interests regardless of any individual relationship with him.

I don’t think Kabru sees the different dimensions of this belief of his in quite such clear terms, however, as is evidenced by the other group who he thinks it’s impossible to communicate with.

Demi-Humans & Unknowable Objects

The other place that we see his conviction about the impossibility of mutual understanding is in the kobold extra.

I'm including the whole thing, because I think it's an excellent and clever piece of world-building. Aside from what it says about Kabru, which I'll expand on shortly, what this extra does is deconstruct and call into question the usual "fantasy ontological biology" present in these sort of DnD-like settings. Essentially, the kind of worldbuilding where a race (such as kobolds) can be described as war-like, and that's establishing something essential about their biological nature. That's common to the point that if Kui didn't include this, some people would probably come away thinking that's the case about, e.g., the orcs.

But here, despite what Kabru is saying, the information the reader actually gets is:

the conflict between short-lived humans and demi-humans such as kobolds is mostly over access to material resources that they need to survive.

These resources are scarce because powerful nations, such as the elves, have monopolised them.

Kabru, who has grown up in a place at the centre of these conflicts, ascribes essential, negative traits to a cultural group which was in direct conflict with his own. Communication with this other group is impossible; they aren't people, they're more like objects.

oh yes! just like this conflict between groups of tall-men, a conflict which the reader will immediately interpret as more clearly analogous to real-life racism. Our other protagonists also carry prejudices from growing up in a place where a marginalised group was in conflict with the dominant group over scarce resources. It's definitely impossible to communicate with these people, and you can only kill them.

Woah, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad!

But also, nobody walks away having had a realisation or unlearned their prejudices - because they don't have the tools they need to do that work. Yet. I do think, to an extent, it could happen - especially with Kabru, since it's suggested in the epilogue that Melini might become a safe-haven for demi-humans.

To focus in on Kabru, the key here is his statement that you should think of demi-humans as "unknowable objects". Even his extraordinary powers of understanding have seemingly hit a limit. Part of this is just inherited prejudice, and doesn't need to have a complicated psychological explanation, any more than the elves who were prejudiced against him need one.

But also... this is probably somewhat linked to the way demi-humans seem to be considered "pseudo-monsters". They're the place that the strict delineation between the human and the monstrous is permeated. Laios, who is not interested in humans, remembers and is excited by Kuro. Chilchuck and Laios argue over whether it's OK to eat a mermaid. Kabru's prepared to (pretend to) roll with the idea that Laios ate the orcs.

But these are people, aren't they? Of course, this is a social construction, as we see from the fact that in the Eastern Archipelago, the label of "human" is reserved for tallmen, but in most of the rest of the world it depends on some obviously arbirary classification based on number of bones; "demi-humans" aren't in any essential way monstrous, except to an extent in their appearance, and physical location - due to their marginal social status, they're pushed out to live in unsafe places such as dungeons.

Therefore, Kabru's view of demi-humans as fundamentally "other", unable to be understood - monstrous - could be read as akin to abjection, the psychoanalytical concept described by Julia Kristeva. In order to create a bounded, secure superego, that thing which permeates and calls into question the border between self and other, human and animal, life and death, is rejected and pushed to the margin.

“Not me. Not that. But not nothing, either. A "something" that I do not recognize as a thing.[...] On the edge of nonexistence and hallucination, of a reality that, if I acknowledge it, annihilates me. There, abject and abjection are my safeguards. The primers of my culture.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 11) “It is thus not lack of cleanliness or health that causes abjection but what disturbs identity, system, order. ” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 13) “The pure will be that which conforms to an established taxonomy; the impure, that which unsettles it, establishes intermixture and disorder. [...] the impure will be those that do not confine themselves to one element but point to admixture and confusion.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 107) (discussing food prohibitions in Leviticus)

This is both (due to its affinity with food-loathing and disgust) a very fruitful concept to apply to dunmeshi, and a psychoanalytical theory which I wouldn't exactly cosign as True Facts About Human Psychological Development. You may also know the abject from its utilisation in the classic essay "Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine" by Barbara Creed - that's a lot more approachable than Kristeva if anyone's interested.

Key here, though, is that through the symbol of the "demi-human" is embodied a step between "human" and "monster" - and that's a prospect that puts at risk the whole notion of an absolute separation between those two categories in the first place. To Laios, that's something wonderful, and to Kabru, it's terrifying. We can see this principle further embodied in the relationship both characters have with the notion of becoming monstrous.

To Laios, this is transcendent, and represents a renunciation of everything human - in fact, if it didn't, it wouldn't "count".

To Kabru, it's a deeply-held fear, established by his childhood alienation (due to his illegitimacy, his eyes, and perhaps also his neurodivergency), deepened by monster-related trauma and the sense of responsibility and survivors guilt he feels for what happened at Utaya. His identity as a human who is not monstrous is key to his sense of stability and safety; he doesn't want to touch monsters, he doesn't even want to see them.

To acknowledge a kinship, a possibility of similarity between the things he loves (humans) and the things he hates (monsters) would be more than touching them - it would be putting them inside him. We know, quite explicitly, that this notion is triggering to Kabru. He literally has what seems to be a flashback when he's about to eat the harpy omelette.

So he abjects it, classifying the demi-human as fundamentally unlike him - an unknowable object, or an object that he refuses to know. Because in understanding it, he would interject the things he hates and fears into his self, which is already, always under threat by that hated and feared object.

Of course, again, Kabru isn't very good at enacting this refusal in practice. For one, when he chooses between his desires and ingesting the feared object, eating monsters... he eats monsters. Part of this is treating himself badly, the "ends justify the means" mentality. His goal is to destroy all monsters, so if he needs to become monster-like to do that, he will. But part of it is also the other motivation that he didn't even seem to know about until he said it: he wants to become Laios' friend, and to learn from him how a person can like monsters. He wants, at least in some part of him, to reconcile the feared and hated object into something he can understand.

For another:

Kabru can speak the kobold language. In the first place, while this may have been common in Utaya, it also could have been something he chose to learn, an early expression of his interest in understanding and talking to all sorts of people. It isn't the kind of thing you learn if you believe that communication between yourself and the group that speak it is impossible, is it?

It's possible to harbour prejudices against a group while being kind to an individual, and given Kabru has those prejudices regardless of his reasons, that is what he is doing. But also, his treatment of Kuro doesn't reflect a sincerely held belief that he's an "unknowable object" at all. His approach is exactly the same as it is to any other person: an analysis of goal and motive, and an attempt to help if he's sympathetic and their goals align - going out of his way to give language and local knowledge lessons in secret. His conviction that Mickbell and Kuro will truly become friends when they can properly communicate is completely contradictory to any sense of demi-humans as fundamentally different, or impossible to reach mutual understanding with. To me, it seems like this self-protective shield against the corruptive force demi-humans as an idea present to his identity, this abjection, when Kabru is face-to-face with one, just simply can't hold up against his finely honed skill of intellectual empathy. Perhaps because he's autistic, it seems his "empathy" is less an emotional mirror response, and more a set of cognitive skills for analysis of others. That instinctual, emotional empathy might not trigger when presented with a member of an out-group, but if it’s possible for Kabru to turn his cognitive empathy off, we don’t see him do it.

This isn't to say that this prejudice doesn't affect his behaviour. For one, it could negatively impact his judgement of politics and policy, where individual people don't enter into it. For another, I'm not convinced he'd be willing to overlook Mickbell's exploitative relationship with Kuro if Kuro wasn't a kobold. As it is, since both of them are satisfied, he doesn't feel like he needs to intervene, regardless of the fact Mickbell isn't paying Kuro. But if Daya and Holm were in a relationship, and Holm took both Daya's and his own share from their ventures, but only compensated her in living expenses and kept the rest, do you think he'd tolerate it, for example? Even if she said it was OK?

Conclusion

The kelpie chapter establishes that "people can never know what monsters are really thinking." That isn't just true of monsters, though.

True mutual understanding is impossible - between anyone. We can never truly understand another person's heart. This is touched on in, for example, the existence of shapeshifters and dopplegangers. Even a monster that seemed like a perfect copy of a person wouldn’t be that person, and wouldn’t be a satisfactory replacement.

We’re intended, I think, to understand the winged lion's repeated suggestions to just replace people who have been lost with copies as something uncanny, which demonstrates the way that the winged lion never manages to attain a complete understanding of humans. A version of a person who was created to fulfil your memories of them, to be the person who you wanted them to be, would be a terrible, miserable thing.

Disagreeing, coming into conflict, and misunderstanding each other, are essential parts of what it means to be living beings, as fundamental as the need to eat.

The only thing to do is not to take more than you need to eat to survive, and not impose your own desires onto others. To do your best to sincerely communicate your desires, even if they're embarrassing or vulnerable or strange, like Kabru eventually does with Laios; like Laios does, bit by bit, with the people around him; like Marcille does, Chilchuck does, Senshi does... to hope they will accept you, and do your best to understand them in return.

We can re-examine, in that context, Kabru's line about the elves' tendency to "explain nothing and take everything".

They have the power to impose their preferred "menu" onto less powerful groups. And in that context, mutual understanding being impossible just means that they won't give up their power because they're asked nicely. Kabru's goal is to seize the truth that they won't give to him, and to create a situation where they can't take everything. Because he's accurately surmised that nothing about the treatment of short-lived races will change so long as the power imbalance remains. Despite the way he mistakenly ascribes part of that to "long-lived vs short-lived" or "human vs demi-human", the actual gulfs in understanding he identifies are structural, are about power and about access to material resources and safety.

I think he could come to recognise this. Yaad is teaching him political science after all, and while a prince's lessons on political science won't exactly get at much that's radical or invested in the interests and perspectives of the marginalised (Capital is a critique of for a reason after all...) I believe in Kabru's ability to learn critically and get more from a lesson than it was intended to teach.

#og post #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #laios touden #dungeon meshi meta #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #dungeon meshi analysis #kuro dungeon meshi #the canaries #milsiril #continuing to develop my kabru theses.#literally sitting and thinking about kabru all day. rotating him.#he's in the microwave. to me.

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pseudowho · 17 hours

Text

Kingsman!AU: Galahad/Nanami Kento

You become the latest Kingsman...and the man who sponsored you is so much more than the gentleman he presents himself as.

Warnings: Best if you've seen the Kingsman films! 18+, MDNI, soft!Dom Nanami, SecretAgent!AU

A little series of smutty drabbles...also planned, Higuruma, perhaps others, for now.

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It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the strangest job interview you had ever had.

Handcuffed, in an East London Police interview room, after assaulting five (...six? Seven?) police officers at an anti-government protest, you were scruffy but unharmed. The blood on your hands was not your own. There was a high flush on your cheeks, ripped clothes casting an indifferent, messy disdain to the situation you found yourself in.

There was a knock at the door, three brisk taps. You did not answer-- a pause. Three further raps at the door.

"...come in?" You asked. The door opened a crack. No further advancement.

"...may I?" A voice, velvet smooth and low, asking your permission.

"I...dont see why it would be my choice," you offered, stretching your hands against the cold metal of your handcuffs.

The door opened slowly, filled by a broad, tall man, blond and outstandingly handsome, with neither a hair nor thread out of place in his Savile Row suit. Over his arm rested a neatly folded overcoat, and a glossy-handled men's umbrella. His hat never graced his head indoors, and was, as such, clasped in his hand. He raised one fine eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable.

"It would be ill-mannered of me to consider it anyone's choice other than yours," he offered coolly, sitting opposite you, "considering you are the only occupant of the room." A moment of silence, again, as you regarded each other.

"Are you...my lawyer?" The man's nostrils flared slightly in suppressed mirth.

"Good heavens, no. No, I have come with a job opportunity." You blinked, certain you had heard wrong, while he continued, "I saw your performance, on my way to work, and I must say I was rather impressed. Seven officers, in under a minute. All incapacitated. Outstanding. And you're untrained, too. And, you did so well at University-- first class honours, correct?"

"Who the hell are you?" You spat, bristling under the man's casual knowledge of your life. The station's assistant looked awkwardly between the two of you as he dropped off two chipped police-issue teacups and saucers of anemic-looking tea. The blond man took the cup and saucer so gracefully, considering the enormity of his hands.

"Ah...quite right. I haven't introduced myself. Nanami Kento-- it's a pleasure to meet you."

You faltered again under his icy regard. Nanami took a sip of his tea. He paused, looking down at it with a hint of despair, before placing it down and delicately clearing his throat.

"...delicious," he lied.

"Are you...MI5?" A brief smile from Nanami, in response. He reached for something in his pocket.

"No," he responded, clipped, "we are not. But, we are in service to King and Country, and we are the sort of agency who punch up, instead of down. And...we find ourselves one member short."

Nanami slipped a thick, embossed coin over the desk to you; a circle, with a sideways "K". Nanami stood up, abruptly, inclining his head to you.

"All charges against you have been dropped. Your interview will commence, at..." Nanami looked at his watch, "...five o'clock this afternoon, should you wish to accept. If you press that coin for five seconds, my associate should send you the details."

You sat, stunned into silence, with the coin in your hands. Nanami Kento looked to you with twinkling eyes, at the door. You felt the twist of fate in your belly, and the pull as Nanami Kento walked it away with him.

"Good day to you. The pleasure was all mine."

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It had taken you over an hour to walk from Whitechapel to the Savile Row address. As bedraggled as you were, you passed through the bustling gentry and street performers of Covent Garden, skirting past the Savoy...before reaching the hushed, golden backlit glow of an exquisite Tailors shop. Letters were embossed upon the windowpane, glimmering gold on a backdrop of finery.

Kingsman.

A tinkling bell; an incongruous stranger, entering an unfamiliar domain. A familiar stranger, strong and smiling, upon the couch. Your breath hitched before you spoke.

"...you're here." Nanami folded his newspaper, standing up, before welcoming you to a changing room, that was not a changing room.

"You're late," he whispered against your ear, as the ground under London sank beneath your feet.

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"...that's mad." You stood in front of a glass window, somewhere far beneath Surrey, gazing in wonderment upon an aircraft hangar full of billions of pounds worth of mercenary equipment. Nanami chuckled beside you. You missed the almost fond sideways glance he passed you.

"I thought the same," he hummed, "when I was brought here, for the first time. I thought someone was playing some tremendous joke, for all the world but me." You were silent, dry-mouthed and swallowing.

"Tell me something..." you insisted, your palm pressed flat against the glass.

"...anything," Nanami reassured, soft and sincere.

"If I pass this-- this test," you whispered, turning to him, "will I get to work with you?"

Nanami smiled, leaning upon the handle of his umbrella, one leg crossed upon the tip of his toes behind the other.

"I'm counting on it."

Another man, tall and lithe, with inky black hair and a hooked nose, arrived with a clipboard. He offered you both a lopsided smile-- "Galahad-- good to see you, my friend"-- white sleeves rolled up against a tailored waistcoat--

-- a rich, Scottish brogue--

"...are you ready to begin?"

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Not only had you passed these months and months of bizarre, deadly tests...you had excelled.

Nanami had remained, always, at arms' length...a distant advisor. An odd, gentle promise. He could not offer any tangible advice, and you could see him itching to, at points.

It was down to the final two; you, and some Cambridge yuppy who could trace his family lineage back to the Battle of Hastings.

You stepped through the dormitories, late at night before the final test, your German Shepherd bounding ahead to sit diligently at the foot of your bed.

You felt a strong arm loop around your waist, and a hand over your mouth. A familiar cologne that made your stomach clench. You stood, pressed against his clipped, firm body, tucked into a camera's blindspot.

"Listen to me," he hissed in your ear, "Do you trust me?"

You nodded, not hesitating for a moment. Nanami's belly flipped to feel your hot little breaths around his hand.

"Good...shoot the fucking dog." You squeaked, trying to turn to him. He pinned you flush against the wall. His chest rumbled against your back.

"Trust me. Shoot the dog."

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You shot first, without a moment of hesitation. Your opponent returned to Cambridge. You became a Kingsman. Both dogs survived the trial.

The hamper that Galahad, your new partner, sent to your home, was nothing short of the finest luxury.

"To my Very Best Bet", read the lovingly annotated card. You brushed it against your lips, wishing it was his fingers instead.

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The wallet was a supple brown leather, smooth and warm. You knew it belonged to Galahad, from the faint smoky cologne that lingered upon its skin. Merlin gave you Galahad's address. You missed the knowing smile Merlin also gave you.

Your stomach flipped in your belly, all the way through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. You passed beneath trees hundreds of years older than the establishment for which you now worked, treading upon the footsteps of Kings and Queens.

The first fresh flakes of snow kissed upon your lips, by the time you turned to the towering white grandeur of Kensington, very much not where you were from. You were freezing, your little hands clenched in your pockets, but hot with anticipation.

Reaching a fine, tall townhouse, all Georgian architectural triumph, you pushed through the black metal gate, rising up white stone steps. You hesitated only briefly before tapping the door, heavy, and gilded forest green.

"--just a minute-- please excuse me--...oh. Hello."

Galahad stood at the door, as...relaxed as you had ever seen him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, and his waistcoat hung similarly open, with tie tails trailing down his chest. With his sleeves rolled up, and a pinstriped apron tied round his waist, you swore you almost saw him blush.

"...to what do I owe the pleasure?" He breathed out, finally. The apples of your cheeks, pink with the cold, dimpled under your smile. You reached out to Galahad, his wallet clasped in your hand.

"You forgot something," you offered. His hand reached out immediately, a goodness, thank you, you shouldn't have upon his lips, before your cold little fingers grasped under his own.

"You are miles from home," he rumbled, chastising, "and you are freezing cold." You tipped on your heels on the doorstep, placating him with a finger to your lips, and a glint in your eye. You moved to go down the steps, but your fingers remained clasped in his.

"Where are my manners? You should come in...of course."

"Galahad, don't feel oblig--"

"Kento, please," he ushered you inside, a hand ghosting over the small of your back, "if we're going to share dinner, we should not pretend to be strangers."

Kento's house bore all the opulent gloss of its noble history, with fine black and white checkered tile flooring, and twisting dark oak bannisters carrying the high staircase away from you. A receiving room beside you, bigger than your whole home, bloomed beneath the sultry flicker of a fire, the only source of light in the room. The kitchen lights spilled inwards, a herby bourginon aroma drawing you in.

You slipped your coat off your shoulders, and blushed, as Kento stood behind you to receive it. His heart pounded under the effort of containing his thrill to have you in his home. The thought of being alone with him, like this, had occupied your mind at night, for so many months.

"Sit, please," Kento insisted, heading to his drinks cabinet. Two slim, hazel eyes darted to you in question; "...can I tempt you?"

You settled on the sofa, antique, and likely much older than you; "Ah...wine?" Kento smiled, heading over to you with a bottle in his grasp, and two slim-necked glasses between his fingers.

You shared the bottle-- dinner was forgotten, cooking slowly on the back burner. You felt yourself becoming supple, warmed by the fire, the wine and the company. Within just a few hours, you and Kento laughed together, both liquor-dishevelled, hands brushing forearms on the back of the sofa. His calloused fingertips were electric against the inside of your wrist.

"You really were, you know," Kento hummed, placing down his unfinished glass of wine, "my best bet. The best gamble I...I ever made." You didn't know how you had ended up drawn so closely to him. Your legs tangled in his, head radiating from his thighs into yours. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you gently, insistently, closer to him.

"I don't normally do this," Kento bargained with himself, whispering against you, his tongue swiping out to dampen your plush lips, "it isn't very-- I really shouldn't, I-- dinner first, at least--" You couldn't help but drown under him, silent in the pools of his dilated pupils as he pressed you to lay back on the sofa, climbing over you, and trapping you beneath him.

"...can I tell you a secret?" Kento murmured against your neck, melting you under his lips and tongue. His hand moved down to undo the buttons of your silk blouse. You nodded, feeling him shiver as you did the same to his shirt.

"...I left my wallet behind on purpose," he rumbled, predatory. The tension snapped. His lips crashed to yours, with Kento groaning into your mouth, tongue trembling against yours. Ripping at the buttons of your blouse, his gentlemanly self-restraint was all but abandoned.

Stripping you, freeing your breasts with bitten-back growls and murmurs, Kento rolled you onto the Persian rug in front of the fire, crowding over you and taking one breast between his lips, licking your nipple into his mouth as his enormous hand pawed at the other.

"--beautiful...beautiful, you know that? Always thought...if you hadn't made it in...I'd have brought you home anyway..."

"Ken--Kento, I--" You broke off into breathy, high moans as Kento's hand slipped down, clutching at your pussy beneath your skirt. His hand scraped the lace edges of your stockings, his breaths frantic and panting with hurry.

"Say my name...again," he panted, strong fingers cupping your sex, moving to massage you, desperate need radiating through his hand. Kento pressed hard enough to massage your clit through the lips of your pussy, you mewled, squirming under him as he growled, "Again. Say my name."

"Kento," you squeaked. Your voice seemed to make Kento frantic, and he pulled off your skirt, your stockings, your underwear, until you were suddenly, blissfully bare beneath him. He knelt, still fully clothed in front of the firelight. His barrelled chest rose and fell, a high blush across his sharp cheekbones.

"This isn't...how a gentleman behaves," you gasped, one arm draped over your eyes. You heard Kento chuckle, cracking his knuckles above your prone, trembling curves. You heard the wolfish grin in his voice.

"Oh yes it fucking is."

One of his hands draped between your breasts, running down your chest and belly, to graze fingertips over your mound. His eyes flicked up to yours again, dark, hungry and questioning. You floated, somewhere both above and beneath him.

"Anything...anything you want," you keened, "whatever you want." Something tightened in Kento's jaw. His fingers trailed lower, grazing your plush lips again, dipping beneath to stroke up and down the slick length between your entrance and clit.

"...what a dangerous thing to say, to a man like me...I don't get treats like you often." Kento pressed two fingers slowly into your clenching heat, eyes rolling back with a fractured moan, gripping you to him by the hip. His cock strained against his trousers, and he moved lazily to unzip himself, shaking with self-restraint. He could not bear the way you twisted and squirmed, to feel his thick fingers fucking into you.

"...good girl...how does it feel? As good as your own? Did you touch yourself, like this, when you dreamt about me?" You could only nod in response, moaning and reaching down to clutch his wrist. His fingers curled upwards towards your soft sensitive spot, buried into you up to his knuckles, and swirling his fingertips over the spongy patch. You sobbed into his touch and he folded over you, shushing, pressing kisses to your temples.

"It's alright, darling...I felt it too...I'll show you. How I touched myself...thinking about you." Kento shuddered against your neck, his fingers still working magic into your belly. His cock flopped heavy into his hand, thick, long, and Kento felt so touch-starved as he closed his eyes, raising his thumb to stroke around your clit, imagining it was his weeping cockhead.

He shushed you again, chasing you up the rug as your pleasure built, heat surging through your thighs and belly. Kento couldn't help but fuck into his own fist, lubricated by his pre-cum, overheating with the need to sink himself inside you, and paint you white with his seed. He cracked his neck from side to side. Doubling down, his fingers picked up speed, pressing your clit until you writhed, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.

"That's it...that's it...let it happen," Kento whispered into your neck, still fucking into his fist against your belly as you climaxed, hands tangled in his mussed hair, burning under the weight of him. His fingers fucked you through the haze of pleasure, nose stroking into your hair, whispering his praises against your ears; "...so proud of you...such a good job...so proud of you, my little gamble..."

Your thighs threatened to flop to the sides, soft and lazy after your orgasm. Kento nestled himself between them, cockhead stroking between your folds, and you whimpered to feel your sensitive clit nudged. Folded over you, Kento met your eyes. A slightly guilty smile ghosted over his face, his voice shaking, seemingly coming back to himself. He resolved to restrain himself;

"I, uh...usually have better manners. This was unprofessional of me. Ungentlemanly, even. I...I insist we...leave this here, and do this properly. Now, we sh-- haaaaah, fuck-- shit-- you--"

Interrupting Kento, you had waited for his cockhead to stroke down to your entrance before fucking him inside you, rolling your hips up to trap his cock inside your walls. You wailed around the stretch, Kento's cock huge and pulsing inside you, and Kento lost his mind.

Grasping your hips with vicious strength, he cursed, rutting into you with abandon. You felt his fat, blunt cockhead jabbing against your cervix immediately, and Kento leaned into it, tilting your hips to fuck you deeper, overtaken by a primal need.

"...little minx...I offer you--ahhhh fuck-- dinner, and you...you offer me...your cunt...just like you, shit--"

You giggled, breathless against Kento's feral attentions, and the sound shot straight down Kento's spine. Your laughs caught in your throat when he held his hips flush to yours, barely pulling out, bullying into your pussy with no restraint.

You felt the steam of sweat beneath Kento's shirt, felt how badly he needed this, and revelled in the way he fell apart above you, his cock milked by your wet, velvet heat. Kento leaned back just enough to see where his cock disappeared into you.

The sight had him reeling, and he came with a bark, spitting and swearing against his total lack of self-control. You felt his cock twitch and bound inside you, spattering your walls with thick stripes of cum. Kento crumpled onto his elbows, face twisted in euphoric agony to see you bite your lip at him, rolling your hips to milk him of every last drop of cum.

Gasping for just a few moments, before rolling his shoulders with soft cracks again, Kento pulled out of you, flipping you over so your face pressed down into the rug. You squealed to feel your hands drawn behind your back, and the soft shhhhff shhhfff shhhhhffff of his tie being pulled free of his collar.

Face down, and arse up, Kento dipped his fingers into your cum-dripping, twitching hole.

"That's how a boy does it," Kento growled, beginning to thread his tie around your wrists, "now lets show you how a Kingsman does it."

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Getting to wax lyrically about my beloved London was a treat.

Up next: Higuruma Hiromi/Merlin

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