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“This is so fucking embarrassing” was all that ran through your head as you were bent over Katsuki’s desk, back arched and practically drooling onto his business papers as he rammed into you from behind, tugging on your hair and stretching you so deliciously.
Your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, owned one of the biggest hero agencies is musutafa. Sky rise building, side kicks and personal offices. So, when he had texted you, pleading for you to bring him some lunch after a mission, of course it had ended up with him pounding you into oblivion.
he was fucking you so so good. veiny,thick cock dragging against your sweet, silky walls and bulbous tip meeting your g spot with each thrust. His fat dick stuffed you so tastefully, making the sweet and soft moans you made and the splutters and squelches of your soaking pussy uncontrollable. “Shit, s’all i need. fat pussy wrapped all over me. lunch can —thrust— wait.” he panted in between breaths, delivering a few smacks to your plump ass, eyes glued to the recoil as he let out a lewd moan.
his office door slammed open. His assistant, Eijirou Kirishima, Pissed as hell. “ohoo no fuckin’ way bro. we got shit to do and you can’t keep it in your pants for two hours. —hey y/n.” eijirou groaned, in frustration, saying the last part a little softer since you weren’t really to blame. All you could do was moan so helplessly as the both of them went back and forth, his thrusts growing harsher as he indulged deeper into the heated conversation. You definitely wouldn’t be able to look Kirishima in the eyes after this. He probably thought you were thee biggessst slut after seeing you all teary eyed, pouting and drooling over his papers as you scrambled to cover your face. the arguing didn’t stop Katsuki from fucking you like a caveman, grabbing onto your skirt that was bunched up on your waist for support as he pounded into you repeatedly, using his groans to punctuate each one of his aggressive statements.
Your hands clawed and scratched at the hardwood table as you let out choked sobs and pornographic moans, feeling your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. Katsuki’s hand latched onto your long, thick hair, dragging you up to his chest and forcing you and Eijirou’s eyes to meet. God so embarrassing. mascara stained your cheeks and eyes as some of your lash clusters had fallen out from how much you’d been crying. your lips were glossy from your saliva and dried up lipgloss as your brows furrowed, looking all helpless and needy. Kirishimas eyes darted around the room as he had fallen silent, the sounds of your moans, babbling and skin clapping being the only audible thing in the office alongside katsukis occasional grunt or moan he had tried to keep under wraps. it wouldn’t be right for Kiri to watch you. One, It was already embarrassing as it was and two, he was with mina and he found this type of sex wayy too cruel.
“see, she needs to ugh cum ei. She’s your friend, huh? always — smack— talkin’ about how she’s the—smack—one for me and y’havent seen me happier. let er—smack—cum then.” Bakugo spoke in between his needy groans and smacks to your ass with his large, scarred hand. Eijrou couldn’t help but feel bad for you. he could hear your moans from his office for the past thirty minutes, so he could tell bakugo was being a bitch and edging you.
And, knowing katsuki, he wouldn’t let you cum until he left.
he reluctantly left with a loud door slam, cursing and kissing his teeth as he waited outside.
—
Eijirou kirishima’s normal toothy grin was replaced by a scowl as katsuki finally came out his office ten minutes later, neutral expression and one of his black spare suits he kept in his office replacing the tan one from earlier. You quickly scurried out of the office, barging past your boyfriend and kirishima as you mumbled a quick sorry to him and then to yourself about how embarrassing this was. You quickly walked off, disappearing as you turned a corner with your head hung in shame, skirt length uneven and sweater that now had some loose thread hanging.
“Shouldn’t have walked in,shitface. now she’s pissed.” katsuki frowned, all mopey as he turned and led the way towards the elevator, completely abandoning his aggressiveness and anger as he showcased the red hand mark on his cheek like a sad little boy, making Kirishima cackle in his face. He thought the slap was well deserved for embarrassing her and being a dick to him too.
But it was safe to say you were never living this down.
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his posture was always upright, shoulders bunched into a wall of steel. his brows always furrowed into an unmoving expression that even the most perceptive of sorcerers couldn’t read.
so, when megumi was caught trailing behind you, heavy bags bunched between his fingers, with such a soft, puppy-like gaze, it’s no surprise that everyone had suddenly piqued interest on why he was suddenly his guard was lowered around you.
“FUSHIGUROOOOOO!” the screech of yujis voice bellowed into megumis dormitory, gojo and nobara trailing behind the jumping boy. a startled megumi flinches, involuntarily lifting his gaze to eye the pink haired menace.
“Whatever you’re going to ask, no.” he outright sneers, the book between his knuckles suddenly crumpled at the edges.
yuji, nobara, and gojo alike all symbolize their disapproval through frustrated glares and a choir of angry strings, as an unfazed megumi doesn’t even flinch.
LATER THAT DAY
your giggles echo through the pink sky of the sunset, hair flowing in the wind as if it were impersonating an ethereal bush of cherry blossoms, your grin widening as megumis two wolf shikigamis lay in between your lap. their happy, howling vows and cuddling into your abdomen shadow their clear approval of the soft pets in between their ears.
megumi doesn’t care to admit it, but under his breath and hiding from the gaze of your soft eyes, he enjoys watching you with his shikigami. your gentle aura makes his heart race, makes the blood flow into his cheeks, just slightly.
when you look up into megumis eyes, your gazes locking into a gentle embrace of love and air alike, he lets an unguarded, soft smile carve its way into his jaw.
he doesn’t often say it, but these gentle moments with you stop time.
he’s just adoring you.
if you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading!! this is my second post on this account, and i’m not very good at posting schedules so if you’ve seen my previous work (about sukuna) thank you so much!! you don’t have to, but if you’re interested in my works, please answer this poll below 🥹🥹❤️❤️
Imagine Waking up to Alastor rubbing his scent all over you so you’ll smell like him.
The deep red of the early morning sun seeps through the closed curtains in his room, shielding you both from the outside world.
You rest in your shared bed, with your hair a mess and your jaw slack, lying on your stomach. Alastor rests on top of you, not sleeping; but nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.
His ears are pinned back, and his little deer-like tail wags back and forth behind him in pleasure. His arms are wrapped around you in uncharacteristic affection.
Little fawn like noises emit from him with every brush of his cheek against your collarbone. Just something about the thought of you smelling like him brought a satisfaction to his chest he never once thought possible.
Then it all went awry.
When you first stir, Alastor jumps, and quickly scrambles to roll away, nearly falling off the bed in his attempt. He has to grip the bed stand and lie stiff as a board on the mattress, shortly after having to push himself back on it in the first place.
His face is flushed and ears are pinned, his grin is strained and obviously humiliated as you ask him if he woke you up.
Good thing he was turned away from you, lying on his side with the blanket so tight around him it may just kill him a second time.
— “Al?’.. Did you need something?”
— “No. Go back to sleep.”
You raise a brow.
— “But you-”
— “Rest woman!-”
As confused as you are, you roll back over to try and sleep. As pleased as Alastor would’ve been to continue, he couldn’t risk getting caught.
Summary ━━━━━ In which Y/n accidentally tells Lando’s mom that she’s only watching him play golf for sex.
Word count ━━━━━ 7,2k
The late afternoon sun cast long, dramatic shadows across the manicured expanse of the golf course, painting the rolling greens and fairways in hues of liquid gold and burnished amber. It was one of those perfect English summer days where the air felt soft and warm against the skin, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass and distant blooming roses from the clubhouse gardens. Y/N sat perched on the passenger seat of Lando's sleek black golf cart, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, the toe of her white sneaker tapping an impatient rhythm against the cart's metal frame. She'd been here for what felt like an eternity—nearly three hours, to be precise—watching Lando navigate the course with his natural athletic grace, his focused expression a familiar sight that usually made her heart flutter with pride and affection.
Today, though, her mind was decidedly elsewhere—specifically, on what would happen once they left this perfectly manicured paradise and returned to the privacy of their home. Or perhaps even before that, if history was any indication. The anticipation had been building all afternoon, a slow, simmering heat that had nothing to do with the warm sun beating down on her exposed shoulders.
She shifted in her seat, the thin fabric of her mini skirt doing little to cool the flush creeping up her chest and neck. From her vantage point, she had an unobstructed view of Lando as he lined up his shot on the 14th hole. The way his polo shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his back visible even from this distance, the intense concentration etched on his handsome features as he calculated the angle and force needed... it was doing things to her. Things that made her want to abandon all pretense of being the supportive girlfriend and drag him into the nearest patch of trees.
"Having fun?" she'd asked him earlier when he'd stopped by the cart for a water break, her eyes shamelessly tracing the line of sweat dripping down his temple and along his sharp jawline.
Lando had grinned, wiping his brow with the back of his glove before reaching for the bottle of water she held out to him. "You know I love having you here, even if you think golf is the most boring sport ever invented."
"I never said it was the most boring," she'd retorted playfully, her fingers lingering on his as he took the water. "Just that it's in the top five. Right after curling and competitive eating."
He'd laughed, leaning in to press a quick but meaningful kiss to her lips. "Just another hour, love. Maybe two if the group ahead of us doesn't speed up. Then we can go home and you can show me what you'd rather be doing."
The promise in his eyes had been enough to keep her from complaining further, but now, as she refreshed her social media feed for the tenth time in as many minutes, she felt a presence beside the cart. Looking up from her phone, she found an elderly woman with light brown hair styled in an elegant bob, her face lined with age but her eyes sharp and kind. She was dressed in tasteful beige slacks and a light blue polo shirt, carrying herself with an air of sophistication that seemed out of place among the casual golf attire of most patrons.
"Hello dear," the woman said with a warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Mind if I join you for a moment? My feet are simply killing me today, and I could use a brief respite before tackling the next few holes."
"Of course," Y/N replied immediately, shifting to make room on the bench seat. "Please, sit. I'm Y/N, by the way."
"Cisca," the woman responded, settling beside her with a grateful sigh that seemed to carry the weight of her years. "It's lovely to meet you, dear. Are you here with someone playing today? Or perhaps you're a golfer yourself taking a well-deserved break?"
Y/N laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that made Cisca's smile widen. "Oh god, no. Not a golfer, definitely. That's my boyfriend, Lando," she said, nodding toward the fairway where Lando was now lining up his shot with intense focus. "The one who's about to overshoot the green if he's not careful with that swing of his."
Cisca followed her gaze, a fond expression crossing her face as she watched Lando execute a perfect drive that sent the ball soaring through the air in a beautiful arc before landing precisely where he'd intended. "Ah, he's quite good, isn't he? Though I must admit, you don't seem terribly interested in the game itself. Not a golf enthusiast yourself?"
Y/N's eyes remained fixed on Lando as he retrieved his clubs and began walking toward the green, his long legs eating up the distance with an athletic grace that never failed to take her breath away. "Not even a little bit," she admitted, her voice dropping slightly as she watched him. "I find it incredibly boring, actually. All that walking and swinging... the endless waiting between shots..."
She paused, her gaze appreciatively tracing the lines of Lando's body as he bent to study the lay of the green. "But then again," she continued almost to herself, "there's something about watching him play that does something to me. The way his muscles flex when he swings, the intense look on his face, the little triumphant grin when he makes a good shot... it's so fucking hot."
Cisca raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? And is that why you're here today? To admire your handsome boyfriend?"
Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck but decided there was no point in being coy with this charming older woman. "Well, that's part of it," she admitted with a wry smile. "But I'm mostly just here for the sex."
Cisca's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure, merely taking a small sip from the water bottle she'd brought with her. "Oh."
Undeterred by the older woman's reaction—or perhaps spurred on by it—Y/N continued, her voice dropping conspiratorially as she leaned slightly closer to Cisca. "It's our thing, you know? When I come watch him play golf, we always have sex when we get home. And often we don't even make it home—we do it in the bathroom of the club house."
She paused, taking a sip of water from the bottle she'd been nursing, her eyes still fixed on Lando as he lined up his putt. "Actually, there was this one time where we had sex right here on the course. In the golf cart, if you can believe—"
"That's quite enough, dear," Cisca interrupted, though there was no reproach in her tone, just a hint of pink coloring her cheeks that had nothing to do with the warm afternoon sun.
Y/N smiled, noticing the flush on the woman's face but thinking nothing of it. Some older people were just easily embarrassed by talk of sex, she figured. "Sorry, I can overshare sometimes. My filter tends to malfunction when I've been sitting in the sun for too long."
"That’s okay dear," Cisca replied, though she seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact now, her gaze fixed on the immaculate fairway before them.
Deciding to push the boundaries just a little further—partly because she was bored and partly because she enjoyed the older woman's flustered reactions—Y/N continued, her voice dropping even lower. "You know, Lando gets this look in his eyes after he's finished a round. All focused and intense from the game, but with this undercurrent of... well, lust, I guess. It's like all that concentration on the course gets redirected, and suddenly I'm the only thing he can focus on."
She paused, a dreamy expression crossing her face. "And the things he does... god, the things he can do with his hands after they've been gripping a club all day. All that strength and precision, but applied to... well, more interesting pursuits. And the way he talks when we're like that—so dirty and possessive, telling me exactly what he's going to do to me, how he's been thinking about it all afternoon..."
Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's worth sitting through hours of the most boring sport imaginable, honestly."
Cisca cleared her throat, her face now decidedly flushed. "That's... quite a relationship you two have, dear."
"The best," Y/N confirmed with a nod, her eyes lighting up as she watched Lando sink his putt and pump his fist in a quiet celebration. "He's incredible. In every way."
As if sensing her gaze, Lando looked over in their direction, a wide grin spreading across his face when he spotted her. He raised his club in a mock salute before turning to retrieve his ball from the cup.
"Looks like your young man is finishing up," Cisca observed, her tone suggesting relief at the change of subject.
"Thank god," Y/N muttered under her breath, though she was loud enough for Cisca to hear. "Not that I haven't enjoyed our chat, but I've been looking forward to this part of the day for hours now."
"I can imagine," Cisca replied, her voice dry but not unkind. "Do you make a habit of discussing your... extracurricular activities... with random strangers at golf courses?"
"Only the particularly charming ones," Y/N said with a wink, earning a reluctant smile from the older woman. "And really, you asked. I'm just an honest person."
"That much is abundantly clear," Cisca murmured, taking another sip of water as if to compose herself.
Y/N watched as Lando finished up at the hole, jotting something down on his scorecard before shouldering his golf bag and beginning to make his way toward them. The way he moved—even while carrying all that equipment—was nothing short of mesmerizing. There was an economy to his movements, a fluid grace that spoke of years of athletic training, but also a natural confidence that was all his own.
"You know," Y/N said thoughtfully, her eyes tracking Lando's progress across the green, "most people probably think golf is this genteel, civilized sport. All polite applause and muted colors. But watching Lando play... it reminds me of racing, really. All that focus, the way he reads the terrain, the precision required... it's like he's calculating angles and wind speed and force, just like on the track. And when he gets that look in his eye right before he takes a shot..."
She trailed off, biting her lower lip as a fresh wave of desire washed over her. "Let's just say it does things to me. Very, very good things."
Cisca watched her with an unreadable expression, a small smile playing on her lips. "You have it bad, don't you, dear?"
"Completely and utterly," Y/N admitted freely. "But he has it just as bad for me, which is the best part. We're insufferable together, really."
"Insufferable in love is the best kind of insufferable," Cisca observed philosophically. "Though I must admit, I'm a bit old-fashioned. I prefer to keep certain aspects of my relationship... private."
"Oh, we're private about most things," Y/N assured her. "But sex? That's too good to keep to yourself. Everyone should be having as much good sex as we are. It would solve a lot of the world's problems, I think."
Cisca laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that made her seem years younger. "I'm not sure the United Nations would agree with your approach to global diplomacy, but I appreciate the sentiment."
As they spoke, Lando drew closer, and Y/N felt her heart rate pick up in anticipation. She could see the details of his face now—the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his curls were slightly damp from exertion, the brilliant smile that was reserved just for her as he approached.
"Well, Cisca, it's been an absolute pleasure," Y/N said, gathering her phone and slipping it into her purse. "But I think it's finally time for me to have some fun."
She stood up, stretching her arms above her head in a deliberate motion that made the sundress ride up slightly, exposing more of her thighs. "Lando's done playing for the day, which means I'm about to get thoroughly and completely fucked."
If Cisca's face had been pink before, it was now positively crimson. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but seemed to think better of it, merely nodding as Y/N hopped out of the cart.
Y/N met Lando halfway, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. He responded eagerly, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips before delving inside. It was sweet yet passionate, a greeting that promised more to come, and Y/N felt herself melting against him, all thoughts of the elderly woman in the golf cart forgotten.
"God, I've been thinking about doing that all day," Lando murmured against her lips, his hands sliding down to cup her ass and pull her even closer.
"Me too," she breathed, tilting her head back as he began trailing kisses along her jawline and down to the sensitive skin of her neck. "Though I might have been thinking about doing more than just kissing."
"Is that so?" he growled softly, his teeth grazing her pulse point in a way that made her knees weak. "What exactly were you thinking about doing, love?"
Y/N was about to answer—probably with something far too explicit given their current location—when she remembered their audience. Glancing over Lando's shoulder, she saw Cisca still watching them from the golf cart, her expression now one of undisguised amusement.
"Did you have a good time watching?" Lando asked when they finally parted, his forehead resting against hers, his blue eyes dark with desire.
"You know the answer to that," she replied with a playful eye roll, though her body was thrumming with anticipation.
Lando nodded with a chuckle. "Right. The thrill of anticipation, you call it. Getting all worked up knowing what's coming later."
"Exactly," she confirmed, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Though I have to admit, I had an interesting conversation while you were finishing up."
"Oh?" His eyes flicked past her toward the golf cart, where Cisca still sat, now observing them with an unreadable expression. "I can see that. Looks like you met my mom."
Y/N's stomach dropped. "Your what?"
"My mom," Lando repeated, oblivious to her sudden panic. "Cisca. She comes to watch me play sometimes when she's in town. Said she wanted to surprise me today."
"Oh god," Y/N breathed, her face paling as the full weight of what she'd just shared—and with whom—crashed down on her. "I'm an idiot. A complete and utter idiot."
"What's wrong?" Lando asked, concern clouding his features as he registered her distress. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Before she could elaborate—before she could even form a coherent thought—he was already guiding her toward the cart, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Y/N hid behind him, clutching his hand tightly as they approached the woman she had just shared her most intimate secrets with—secrets about her son.
"Mum!" Lando greeted warmly, pulling Y/N forward from where she'd been attempting to conceal herself behind his back. "This is Y/N, the girlfriend I've been telling you about. Y/N, this is my mother, Cisca."
Y/N's cheeks were on fire as she offered a weak wave, unable to meet Cisca's eyes. "It's... lovely to formally meet you," she managed, the words feeling hollow given what she had just shared.
Cisca's expression was a mixture of amusement and something else Y/N couldn't quite identify—perhaps shock, or maybe even a grudging respect for her candor. "The pleasure is all mine, dear. Lando didn't exaggerate about how lovely you are."
Lando beamed with pride, completely unaware of the undercurrent of tension between the two women. "Ready to head out, love? I think we've both had enough sun for one day."
As they walked away from the cart, Y/N buried her face in her hands. "I'm so embarrassed," she groaned. "I told your mother that I was only here for sex. I told her I couldn't wait for you to be done so you could fuck me. I told her about how we've done it multiple times in the golf club house bathroom, and even that one time on the course."
Lando's eyes widened, a mixture of horror and amusement crossing his face. "You told my mum about that time in the sand trap? The one where you lost your panties and we had to come back after dark to find them?"
"Among other things," Y/N moaned. "This is the most embarrassing moment of my life.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Lando interrupted, though he was now laughing—a deep, genuine laugh that made his shoulders shake. "I'm sorry, love, I know I shouldn't laugh, but... you told my prim and proper mum about our bathroom rendezvous? That's actually kind of hilarious."
"It's not hilarious! It's horrifying!" she insisted, though his laughter was infectious, and she felt a giggle bubble up despite herself. "She probably thinks I'm some kind of sex-crazed maniac."
"Well, you are," he pointed out with a grin. "But you're my sex-crazed maniac, and that's all that matters."
Y/N pushed him away playfully. "Don't you dare try to kiss me right now. If we have sex after this, it would just feel... wrong. Like your mother is watching us or something."
Lando's eyes darkened with that familiar look of desire, his hands finding her waist again. "Is that so?" he murmured, his lips trailing along her neck. "Because I seem to recall you mentioning something about not being able to wait until we got home."
Despite herself, Y/N felt her body responding to his touch, her pulse quickening as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin. "Lando, no. Not after what just happened. I can't stop thinking about your mother knowing... everything." "Come on," he coaxed, his hands sliding lower to cup her bottom, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. "A little danger makes it more exciting, doesn't it? The thrill of possibly getting caught... or in this case, the thrill of knowing my mum knows exactly what we're about to do."
Y/N's resolve was weakening, her body betraying her mortified mind as it responded instinctively to his touch. "You're terrible," she breathed, even as her hands came up to tangle in his hair.
"I know," he murmured against her skin, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below her ear that always made her melt. "But you love it. And you know what? I think a part of you is actually getting turned on by the fact that my mum knows how much you want me right now."
She wanted to deny it, but the truth was that there was something undeniably thrilling about the situation—the taboo nature of it, the slight humiliation mixed with the overwhelming desire she always felt for him. It was a potent combination, one that made her head spin and her body ache with need.
Before she could protest further, he was guiding her toward the clubhouse, his arm firmly around her waist as if daring her to escape. Y/N found herself torn between mortification and arousal, the two warring emotions creating a delicious tension that settled low in her belly.
The clubhouse loomed before them, an imposing structure of red brick and white trim that spoke of old money and tradition. Lando's hand was firm on the small of Y/N's back, guiding her through the ornate oak doors and into the cool, air-conditioned interior. The contrast between the warm afternoon air and the chilled space of the clubhouse made her skin break out in goosebumps, or perhaps it was the anticipation of what was to come.
"You're quiet," Lando observed, his voice low as he steered her toward the hallway that led to the restrooms. "Regretting telling my mum about our... extracurricular activities?"
Y/N shot him a look that was part exasperation, part desire. "I'm regretting that I didn't notice the resemblance sooner. She has your eyes, you know. And that same wicked little smile when she's amused by something she shouldn't be."
"Is that what you think? That she was amused?" Lando's fingers traced circles on her back through the thin fabric of her sundress. "I think she was horrified. My mum doesn't talk about sex. Ever. I'm not entirely sure she and my dad even did it more than the four times it took to produce me and my siblings."
Despite herself, Y/N laughed. "Well, someone needs to introduce her to the joys of oversharing. It's liberating."
"I'll introduce you to the joys of keeping your mouth shut," he teased, though his eyes were dark with promise as he pushed open the door to the men's restroom. "At least when it comes to my mother."
The bathroom was exactly what she expected from an upscale golf club—marble countertops, polished brass fixtures, and a faint, clean scent of expensive soap and lemon-scented cleaner. It was empty, which was a small mercy given what they were about to do.
"Here?" Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper as Lando locked the door behind them. "What if someone comes in?"
"Then they'll get an education," he replied, turning to face her with that predatory grin that never failed to make her knees weak. "Besides, I locked it. And even if someone does have a key, I'm not planning on taking that long."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "That's awfully confident of you, Mr. Norris. What happened to all that talk about appreciating the journey, not just the destination?"
"The journey was three hours of watching me play golf," he countered, closing the distance between them in two long strides. "The destination is you, spread out on this very nice marble counter, screaming my name. I think we've earned a shortcut."
Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, hungry and demanding. There was nothing gentle about this kiss—it was all teeth and tongue and raw need, a reflection of the hours of anticipation that had been building between them. Y/N responded in kind, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, needing to feel the solid warmth of his body against hers.
Lando's hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of her spine, cupping her ass through the thin fabric of her dress, sliding up to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed against her already hard nipples, and she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"God, I've been thinking about this all day," he murmured against her mouth, his voice rough with desire. "Every time I looked over and saw you watching me... I wanted to abandon the game and drag you into the nearest bathroom."
"Should have," Y/N breathed, her head falling back as his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point in a way that made her entire body tingle. "Would have saved us both a lot of frustration."
"And missed the opportunity to watch you squirm?" He chuckled, a low, dirty sound that vibrated through her entire body. "Never. You get this look in your eyes when you want me. All dark and hungry. It's my favorite look on you."
In one smooth motion, he lifted her onto the marble counter, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. The cool surface against her bare thighs made her gasp, but the discomfort was quickly forgotten as his mouth found hers again, his kiss even more demanding than before.
"Hands on the counter," he ordered against her lips, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't move them."
Y/N complied, her palms flat against the cool marble as she leaned back, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. There was something about Lando when he got like this—all dominant and in control—that made her want to do exactly as he said, to surrender herself completely to whatever he had planned.
"Good girl," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher and higher until it was bunched around her waist. "Now spread your legs for me. Let me see how much you want this."
Y/N did as he asked, her cheeks flushing with a combination of embarrassment and arousal as she exposed herself to him. The thin fabric of her panties was already damp, a testament to how badly she wanted him, and the knowing smirk on Lando's face told her he noticed.
"Someone's been thinking about this," he observed, his finger tracing the outline of her lips through the soaked fabric. "All that time in the sun, watching me play... were you touching yourself under that blanket in the golf cart?"
"No," Y/N breathed, though the thought had certainly crossed her mind more than once. "I was saving it for you."
"Always so thoughtful," he murmured, his thumb pressing against her clit through her panties, making her gasp. "But I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"
Without further preamble, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. The cool air against her wet heat made her shiver, and she instinctively tried to close her legs, only to have Lando stop her with a firm hand on her thigh.
"Ah ah ah," he scolded gently. "Keep them open. I want to see all of you."
Y/N's heart was pounding in her chest, a frantic rhythm that echoed the throbbing between her legs. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on by the raw hunger in Lando's eyes as he looked at her.
"Perfect," he murmured, dropping to his knees before her. "Absolutely fucking perfect."
Y/N's breath hitched as he positioned himself between her legs, his hands spreading her wider as he leaned in. The first touch of his tongue against her clit was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through her entire body. Her fingers curled against the marble, her knuckles white as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"God, Lando," she gasped, her head falling back against the mirror as he began to explore her with his tongue. "Don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it," he murmured against her, the vibrations of his voice adding another layer of sensation. "You taste so good, love. All sweet and wet for me."
Y/N could only moan in response, her hips rocking against his face as he continued his assault on her senses. His tongue was everywhere—lapping at her folds, circling her clit, dipping inside her to taste her essence. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, a symphony of sensation that had her climbing higher and higher toward the edge.
"Please," she begged, though she wasn't sure what she was begging for. More pressure? Less? For him to stop? For him to never, ever stop?
Lando seemed to know, though. He always did. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue working her clit with a relentless, focused rhythm as he slid two fingers inside her. The dual stimulation was almost too much, a perfect storm of pleasure that had her seeing stars behind her closed eyelids.
"That's it, love," he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh. "Ride my face. Show me how much you want it."
Y/N did as he asked, her hips moving of their own accord as she chased the pleasure building within her. She was so close, hovering on the edge of release, her entire body tensing with anticipation.
"Come for me," he commanded, his fingers curling inside her to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. "Come on my tongue. I want to taste you when you fall apart."
His words were her undoing. With a cry that was half his name, half a sob of pure pleasure, Y/N shattered. The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, washing over her in powerful, pulsing waves that left her trembling and breathless. Lando didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working her through the aftershocks until she was completely spent, her body limp against the marble counter.
"God, you're beautiful when you come," he murmured, rising to his feet and capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his tongue, a heady combination that made her head spin and her body ache with renewed desire.
"Your turn," she breathed, her hands reaching for the waistband of his trousers, only to be stopped by his firm grip on her wrists.
"Oh no," he said, his eyes dark with a predatory light that made her stomach clench with anticipation. "I'm not done with you yet. I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm going to take my time enjoying you."
He released her hands, only to flip her over so that she was facing the mirror, her palms pressed against the cool marble as she bent over the counter. The position was vulnerable, exposing, and incredibly arousing.
"Look at you," he murmured, his hands roaming over her back and ass, his touch possessive and proprietary. "All bent over and waiting for me. You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now."
Y/N's cheeks flushed, but she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at his words. She watched him in the mirror, her breath catching at the raw hunger in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Please, Lando," she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "I need you."
"I know you do, love," he replied, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself behind her. "And you're going to get me. All of me."
She heard the sound of his zipper being lowered, followed by the rustle of fabric as he freed himself from the confines of his trousers. Y/N held her breath, her body trembling with anticipation as she waited for him to enter her.
"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough as he rubbed the head of his cock against her wet folds.
"God, yes," she breathed, pushing back against him, desperate for the friction, the fullness, the exquisite pleasure only he could give her.
With a groan that sounded suspiciously like a prayer, Lando entered her in one smooth, deep thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect stretch and fullness that made her entire body sing. He paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, his hands stroking her back in a surprisingly tender gesture.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice soft as he leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back.
"More than okay," she replied, turning her head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. "Don't stop."
"Never," he promised against her mouth, beginning to move inside her with slow, deep strokes that made her toes curl. "You feel so fucking good, love. So tight and wet for me."
Y/N could only moan in response, her body moving in rhythm with his as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more demanding. The sounds of their coupling filled the small bathroom—the slap of skin against skin, their ragged breaths, her soft cries of pleasure, his low, dirty words of encouragement.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove into her again and again. "You like it when I fuck you hard, when I use you for my pleasure."
"God, yes," she gasped, her hands braced against the mirror as she met him thrust for thrust. "Use me, Lando. Make me yours."
"You are mine," he snarled, his possessiveness sending a thrill through her. "This tight little pussy is mine. No one else gets to fuck you like this. No one else gets to see you come apart like this."
His words were filthy, degrading even, but they were also the most intimate, loving things he could have said. Y/N felt cherished, worshipped, even as he used her body for his pleasure. It was a paradox she had come to crave, the perfect blend of dominance and devotion that defined their relationship.
"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice rough with exertion. "I want to feel you come around my cock when I'm inside you."
Y/N complied, her hand snaking between her legs to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.
"That's it, love," he encouraged, his pace becoming erratic as he approached his own release. "Come for me. Come all over my cock like the good little slut you are."
His words, combined with the relentless stimulation, sent Y/N over the edge. With a cry that was half pleasure, half pain, she came hard, her inner walls clamping down around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
"Fuck, Y/N," Lando groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "I'm going to come inside you. Fill you up until you're dripping with me."
With a final, deep thrust, he emptied himself inside her, his body trembling with the force of his release. They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies joined, their ragged breaths the only sound in the small bathroom.
"God, I love you," he murmured, his lips pressing soft kisses against her shoulder as he slowly withdrew from her. "So much."
"I love you too," she replied, turning in his arms to capture his lips in a tender, loving kiss that was a stark contrast to the raw, primal coupling they had just shared.
They cleaned up as best they could, their movements slow and languid in the aftermath of their passion. Y/N could feel Lando's release trickling down her thighs, a tangible reminder of their encounter that made her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction.
"Ready to face my mother?" Lando asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he fastened his trousers.
"Never," Y/N replied, though she was smiling as he took her hand. "But I suppose we have to eventually."
"Eventually," he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "But not just yet."
They emerged from the bathroom, their cheeks flushed, Y/N's eyes glassy and sated. They were thoroughly fucked, and it showed in every line of their bodies, in the way Lando kept his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, in the way Y/N leaned against him as if her legs could no longer support her weight.
As they rounded the corner, they saw Cisca still sitting in the lounge, a cup of tea in her hands as she chatted with another club member. Her eyes met theirs, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as she saw the knowing look in the older woman's gaze.
There was no judgment in Cisca's expression, no condemnation. Just a quiet, knowing amusement that was somehow more embarrassing than any lecture could have been. Y/N's cheeks flushed even brighter, and she buried her face in Lando's shoulder, unable to meet his mother's gaze.
"Having a good time, dear?" Cisca asked, her voice laced with an innocence that was entirely at odds with the knowing look in her eyes.
"Wonderful," Lando replied, his arm tightening around Y/N's waist as he guided her toward the exit. "Just catching up with Y/N."
"I can see that," Cisca murmured, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched them make their hasty retreat. "Don't let me keep you."
They practically fled the clubhouse, their laughter echoing in the quiet afternoon air as they made their way to the car. The drive home was a blur of stolen kisses and whispered promises, their bodies still humming with the aftermath of their encounter.
Later that night, after another round of passionate lovemaking that left them both breathless and sated, they lay tangled in the sheets of their bed, their bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. Lando spooned Y/N, his arm wrapped around her waist as he pressed soft kisses to her shoulder and cheek.
"I can't believe I told your mother all those things," Y/N murmured, her voice drowsy with contentment as she snuggled closer to him. "I'm never going to be able to look her in the eye again."
Lando chuckled, his chest vibrating against her back. "I think you'll manage. Besides, I think my mum found it rather refreshing, actually," Lando murmured against her skin, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. "She's always been surrounded by people who are too concerned with appearances. You're... real. Unapologetically so."
Y/N rolled over to face him, her eyes searching his in the dim light filtering through their bedroom window. "Real? Lando, I told your mother that I was 'just here for the sex' and that we've fucked in the clubhouse bathroom on multiple occasions. I think 'shameless' might be a more accurate description."
"Sexy and shameless," he corrected with a grin, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. "My two favorite qualities in a woman."
"You're impossible," she laughed, though there was no real heat in her words. "Your poor mother. She's probably traumatized for life."
"Or impressed," Lando countered, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against him. "Did you see the look on her face when we came out of that bathroom? She knew exactly what we'd been doing. And I think she was secretly proud that her son has such a healthy... appetite."
Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck despite herself. "She looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Which somehow made it even more embarrassing."
"I thought it was hot," Lando admitted, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below her ear that always made her shiver. "Knowing my mum was out there, knowing what we were doing in that bathroom... It added a certain... thrill, don't you think?"
"You would think that," Y/N retorted, though her body was already responding to his touch, her pulse quickening as his teeth grazed her earlobe. "You get off on the danger of it all."
"I get off on you," he corrected, his voice dropping to a low, seductive rumble. "The danger is just a bonus."
His hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her already wet and ready for him again. "See? You can't resist me either."
"It's a curse," she breathed, her hips rocking against his hand as he began to stroke her with practiced ease. "Your mother would be so disappointed in me."
"She'd be proud," Lando insisted, his thumb circling her clit as he slid two fingers inside her. "She raised a son who knows how to satisfy his woman. That's something to be proud of, isn't it?"
Y/N could only moan in response, her body arching into his touch as he worked her toward another orgasm. It was always like this with them—insatiable, endless, a hunger that could never be fully satisfied no matter how many times they came together.
"That's it, love," he murmured against her lips, his fingers moving faster as he felt her body tense with approaching release. "Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart in my arms."
Y/N did as he asked, her body shuddering with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. Lando held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she rode out the aftershocks, his lips pressing soft kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
"God, I love you," she breathed, her body limp and sated against his. "Even when you're being a depraved sex maniac."
"Especially when I'm being a depraved sex maniac," he corrected with a grin, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. "Now, about my mother..."
Y/N groaned, burying her face in his chest. "Can we please not talk about your mother while I'm naked and covered in your come?"
Lando laughed, his hands stroking her back in a soothing gesture. "Fair enough. But we are going to have to face her eventually. She invited us to dinner on Sunday."
Y/N's head shot up, her eyes wide with panic. "She what? Lando, no. I can't. Not after what I said."
"You have to," he insisted, though there was a gentleness in his tone that softened the command. "She likes you, Y/N. Really. And she wants to get to know the woman who's so openly 'just here for the sex' with her son."
Y/N groaned again, dropping her head back onto his chest. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"
"Probably not," he admitted, his fingers tracing patterns on her back. "But think of it this way—at least now you don't have to pretend to be interested in golf."
Y/N had to laugh at that. "True. There is that."
"And who knows?" he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe she'll have some tips for us. New places to have sex, perhaps?"
Y/N swatted his chest playfully. "You're terrible. Absolutely terrible."
"But you love me," he countered, capturing her hand and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.
"God help me, I do," she agreed, though there was a smile in her voice as she snuggled closer to him. "Even when you're suggesting we take sex tips from your mother."
"It's an open-minded family," he defended, though there was a laughter in his voice that gave away his amusement. "What can I say?"
They fell silent for a moment, their bodies tangled together in the aftermath of their passion. Y/N could hear Lando's heart beating steadily beneath her ear, a comforting rhythm that never failed to soothe her.
"You really think she's not mad?" Y/N asked, her voice small in the quiet darkness of their bedroom.
"I know she's not," Lando replied, his fingers stroking her hair in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. "My mum has always valued honesty above all else. And you, my love, are nothing if not honest."
"Brutally honest," Y/N corrected, though there was no bitterness in her tone. "There's a difference."
"Maybe," he conceded. "But it's one of the things I love most about you. You never pretend to be someone you're not. You're unapologetically you, and that's... incredibly sexy."
Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with their recent activities. It was moments like this—quiet, intimate, filled with unspoken affection—that made her fall in love with him all over again.
And Y/n had no idea if she should be thrilled to finally meet both of Lando’s parents, making their fairly new relationship as official as possible, or if she should dread that dinner for her life.
