digitalcreaturelurking

[digitalcreaturelurking]

18+ phone sex with bsf!gojo

your legs are propped against the wall to encourage circulation. your body aches in that diffuse, overstimulated way it gets after hours of inertia mistaken for rest. you’ve been toggling between apps, forgetting what you opened and why. your thumb keeps opening your messages, closing them, then flicking back to your home screen. nothing new. nothing waiting. the ambient glow of your lock screen washes the sheets in a sickly blue. your phone buzzes once in your palm, abrupt and physical, a nudge more than a ring. incoming call… satoru. the name flickers at the top, options below: reminder, message, accept, decline.

you accept without really consciously deciding to, thumb tapping green and sliding upward. your phone stays cradled in your hand as it switches to the full screen. elapsed seconds appear beneath his name. you press speaker.

“you’re still up?” his voice is muffled slightly, like he’s under blankets or speaking into his pillow.

“m’talking to you, aren’t i?”

“you touching yourself?”

“excuse me?”

“dunno.” he yawns. “you’ve got that voice.”

not much to say to that. whatever the fuck that was. your legs are starting to go numb, so you let them slide down the wall, toes dragging the drywall on their way down.

“what voice?”

“that sleepy one.” he murmurs. you hear fabric rustle near his mic, he must be turning onto his side.

“y’know, the ‘if-you-tell-me-to-touch-myself-i-will’ voice.”

“pervert.” you wrinkle your nose, more out of embarrassment than indignation.

“only ‘cause i’m thinking about you.” he yawns, “i’m so sleepy.”you roll onto your side, legs curling toward your chest, screen still lit beside your pillow.

“then sleep. duh.”

“i want to. but.”

there’s always a but. sometimes you think it's a habit he hasn't outgrown—leaving unclosed parentheses, little excuses to keep you on the line.

“but my dick’s being annoying.”

“what’s new.”

the groan is theatrical, yet he’s too tired to commit to the bit.“you’re supposed to say something nice,” he grumbles. “or offer to help. or at least sympathise.”

“you’re calling me just so you can jerk off, aren’t you?”

“not just,” he insists. “i wanted to see your face, too.”

he says it like the truth needs no defence, as if needing you while touching himself has always been this transparent. a clause built into the friendship somewhere between hey, what’s for lunch and you up?. this is what you are to each other.

“aw, so sleep blue-balled,” you singsong. he makes a noise that sounds genuinely pained. “that’s evil. why would you say that.”biting your lip, you smile against the warm side of your pillow. “erm… because you deserve it?”

rustling fabric fills the lull. in your mind, you can picture him with such clarity: his arm flung across his eyes, white hair sticking up at odd angles.

“seriously though,” he says. “can i?”

“can you what?”

“jerk off to your voice. need the greenlight or it feels weird.”

a pause. the blanket slips down your thigh as you shift, one leg exposed to the cool air. goosebumps gather without effort.

“shit. you’re really gonna?”

“only if it’s cool with you.”

the phone is starting to heat against your ear, screen warm with prolonged contact.

“want to FaceTime?”

a shallow inhale. his response comes in a rush.

“i didn’t even know that was an option. fuck, yeah.”

“yeah, okay. i’m picking up.” your thumb taps end on the call screen, and within seconds, the incoming FaceTime flashes the usual translucent overlay, your lock screen dimmed behind it.

you swipe to accept. the screen jumps from your own dim reflection, eyes bleary in the front camera, to his.

his face takes up most of the frame. so close you’re able to count the pores in his skin. harsh yellow lamplight catches on the angles of his cheekbones and the translucent fringe of his lashes, almost insubstantial when he blinks. they rest briefly on the apple of his cheek, then lift again.

you smile. he smiles back.

“hi.”

“hi.”

in full view now, satoru looks uncharacteristically shy. mouth parted, bottom lip moist where he’s licked it, eyes flickering between the screen and something out of frame.

“was waiting for you to say something dirty.”

“and how long would that’ve taken?”

“dunno. ten minutes…twenty. i would’ve stuck it out.” he sounds tired, but lucid. not fully wanking off yet, if you had to guess—probably still palming himself over his boxers, getting worked up on pure suggestion. you roll onto your side, and the phone wobbles, catches the edge of the fitted sheet. your hand snakes out to right it again.

the mic picks up the faint squelching noise. somewhere out of frame, his hand’s already moving. the camera stays fixed on his face, and it’s all the more intimate for it. he wants you to see what it does to him.

you pretend to be unaffected, but your body makes a liar of you. viscous heat pools in your loins, your thighs pressing together as if that might contain it. the lighting in his room throws everything into a jarring gold. shadows stretch over the planes of his body, carving out the dips of his collarbones, the curve of his shoulder where it slopes into bicep. all rendered in movement—small, involuntary flinches that betray how far gone he already is.

wet and uneven shlick shlicks between his shallow breathing, and your imagination fills the gaps. his fist working at the base, moving up along the shaft. the flushed crown seeping into his palm. the part of him you haven’t seen, haven’t touched, yet already crave.

“can i see?” you blurt out, immediately embarrassed. so little time pass between the inquiry and the rustle of cotton, followed by a faint clatter of his phone being repositioned against something more stable. the camera tilts from his face to the slope of his torso, and below that… christ.

his cock fills the centre of the screen, thick and gleaming in his grip. the tip is flushed a dark pink that’s nearly red, leaking precum on his knuckles and clinging in filmy threads between shaft and fist. each upward pull draws a soft twitch from the base. your panties are wet and your mouth is dry.

“fuck,” he groans, “say something.”

you wet your lips. try not to pant into the mic.

“what do you want me to say?”

“anything,” he whines, almost ashamed, “…tell me you’re thinking about me. even if you’re not. your voice’ll get me there.”you know satoru doesn’t mean to sound that pitifully truthful. the strongest sorcerer rarely lets insecurity take hold. he crushes doubt with bravado, but right now, the façade slips. thumb tracing the screen’s bevel, your own face stares back at you from the dark, no longer innocent—if it ever was.

“you always say you want honesty.” hand sliding between your thighs, settling into warmth. “but then you sound like that.”

“what kind of dirty talk-”

“i am thinking about you,” you interrupt, breathless. “i do that all the time. more than i should.”

he moans. not a sigh, but a sound much deeper, as though his entire body flinched from the force of it.

“fuck. fuck, that’s hot.”

your hand move faster between your thighs, knees knocking together under the blanket.

“come for me, toru.”

his face twists—eyes squeezed shut, brows pulled together in an fashion that could be pain if not for the rosy flush streaking his cheekbones. lips parted, he lets out a broken sound as he spills across his abdomen. the camera catches it in motion: streaks catching light on the dip of muscle, glistening where it hits pale skin. seconds pass. his head drops back onto the pillow. a ragged sigh slips out as the camera tips back up to his face.

“you okay?”

his eyes crack open, irises ablaze. bright as arc welders, or sea glass under radiation. the whites nearly indistinguishable from the iris, both eclipsed by some cold, internal flare that burns behind the striations of his pupils.

“yeah,” he mumbles. “thanks. felt good hearing you.”

[digitalcreaturelurking]

18+

best friend!satoru who eats you out for the first time as your second birthday gift. you’d joked about needing a second dessert after cake and he’d shrugged, carried you bridal style to the couch, pinned your thighs over his shoulders and said, “you want me to put frosting on it or nah?” you thought he was kidding. you learned he was not.

best friend!satoru who gets painfully hard when you wear his clothes, but doesn’t bother to hide it.

best friend!satoru who lets you borrow anything from his closet, and steals from yours constantly. “mutual property. yours is mine, mine is yours. if you see me decked out in your miniskirt, i don’t want to hear a word,” and he means it—full on struts past you one morning in your crop top, showing off his slutty waist like it’s his god-given right, looking back only to say: “you left it on the floor. you forfeited ownership.”

best friend!satoru who’s your lingerie consultant. even when you’re dating someone else, he always insists on helping you “rate” the pieces you wear for The Other Guy. “7.5. makes your tits look great, but you’re gonna waste that on him?” weeks later, you realize half those sets went missing.

best friend!satoru who feeds you fries off his plate. dips them in sauce and holds them up to your lips. always pretends to miss your mouth so he can press his greasy fingers against your bottom lip and go “oops, messy girl.” and chuckles when you lick or bite his fingers in retaliation.

best friend!satoru who lets you use his card when you’re sad. doesn’t ask what for, just sends you a selfie of him pouting with a “buy smth pretty so you don’t cry” caption. if you don’t spend at least $300, he gets personally offended.

best friend!satoru who showers with you “to save the environment,” but spends more time helping you exfoliate your back and rinse your conditioner out than actually washing himself. you turn around once and catch him palming himself lazily under the stream. “oh,” he says, blinking. “you can keep singing, don’t mind me.”

best friend!satoru who has zero boundaries when it comes to your body. he adjusts your straps, straightens your necklaces, zips you into dresses from behind with such painstaking care that should not be so casual.

best friend!satoru who hasn’t fucked you, but has definitely slept curled around you like a body pillow on many occasions. who dry humps you during cuddles—not even always consciously. sometimes it’s in the middle of a movie, arms wrapped around you, hips rocking languidly against your ass while you eat popcorn. other times he full-on moans in his sleep.

best friend!satoru who is that annoying best friend who accidentally walks in while you’re changing.

best friend!satoru who kisses your forehead chastely. who holds your hand walking through crowds. who likes to pull you into his chest and rest his chin on the top of your head

best friend!satoru who gets hard watching you cry over your ex. not out of cruelty—he hates seeing you hurt, truly—but you’re sobbing into his chest, voice wobbling through half-formed sentences, and it does something to him. part of him wants to cheer you up with takeout and movies. the other part wants to fuck you so good you forget that asshole’s name entirely.

best friend!satoru who keeps saying “it’s not sexual unless you cum” like that’s a rule in the friend handbook.

best friend!satoru who never asks you to be his, because he knows the second you say yes, he’s compromised. you’ll become the one thing he can’t afford to lose. he keeps you close, but not close enough that someone could make you a target. as the strongest, he’s spent his whole life being selfless for the sake of everyone else. but he’s just not sure he’d know how to be selfless with you.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

18+ sharing a bed with bsf!gojo

at 2:41 a.m., your best friend barges into your bedroom without so much as a knock, muttering obscenities and toeing off his slippers. the hallway light casts a harsh rectangle across the floor, slicing through the dark. half-awake, momentarily blinded, you squint up at him. backlit in the doorway, gojo satoru looks both ridiculous and divine—six-feet-something of of flushed annoyance, snowy white hair sticking up in chaotic tufts, framed like some petulant archangel in nothing but a pair of boxers.

“my fucking a/c just died,” he announces, tone aggrieved, as if the malfunction itself were a targeted assault on his divine entitlement.

“you can’t sweat it out for one night like the rest of us commoners, huh?”

“it’s inhumane,” he whines, already crossing the room to prod at the unit on your wall. “heat stroke kills, y’know. i read that.”

moments later, the mattress dips beneath added weight as he slots himself behind you with the ease of habit. his thigh wedges itself between yours, tactfully avoiding any overt contact with the more… compromising angles of your anatomy. technically innocent, but nowhere near far enough to qualify as pure.

“why are your thighs so hot. you ovulating?”

“why are you talking.”

he repositions himself slightly, his hips aligning too conveniently against your ass. not pressing, but not not.

“don’t be mean,” he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. “i’m a fragile soul.”

his fingers, predictably warm, slip under your shirt without affectation. you bat at them, half-heartedly—too tired (or so you claim) to really stop him. it’s pro forma at this point. and in true ‘guy best friend’ obnoxious behaviour, satoru responds by moaning in your ear like you’ve wounded him in some erotically profound way. you elbow him in the ribs for it, get a little satisfaction out of the pained grunt he makes.

twenty minutes pass. the room has become an arctic hellscape. your toes curl in protest beneath the blankets, fully committed to the bit of not getting up to adjust the a/c. satoru, of course, only winds himself tighter around you. your limbs are tangled, and you genuinely can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

he’s hard now. fully, and completely without shame. it’s pressed right up against the curve of your ass, no attempt at subtlety. you try to ignore the distinct shape of him, thick and hard where it nestles snugly against your tailbone. you do your best to ignore it—the attempt is noble, really—right up until his thumb starts moving. circular motions under your navel, casual and thoughtless, as if he isn’t already palming around the borders of your self-control.

then his hips rock once, a shallow press that lodges his cock higher between your thighs, thick and warm through both layers of fabric. you bite the inside of your cheek and decide to do the mature thing. instead of telling him to knock it off, you clamp your thighs together, squeezing around the thickening bulge of his cock. not overt. just a silent reminder that:

a.) he’s not slick. and b.) you’re not fucking stupid.

“fuck. my dick’s hard,” he mutters, as if it’s new information.

“cry about it.”

“i will,” he says, nuzzling into the curve of your shoulder with infuriating gentleness, as if his dick isn’t pressing against your ass. “because i’m sensitive. i need to be held.”

you roll your eyes and swat behind you, catching his bicep.

“pervert.” satoru responds, predictably, by grinding against you, like he’s trying to prove a point.

“huh,” he muses, the grin perfectly audible in his voice. “something tells me you love it.”

you do. unfortunately. but you still arch back into him, partly out of spite, mostly because the heat of him is starting to corrode whatever’s left of your higher brain function. he huffs a laugh against your neck.

“mm. what’s this, little squeeze? that for me?”

“you’re hallucinating.”

“you’re grinding on me.”

“says the guy rubbing his boner on me.”

“semantics.”

you sigh—a long-suffering one—and tilt your hips back until the plush of your thighs bracket him properly. the adjustment is minor, but it lines everything up: without preamble, his hand slides down again. the flat of his palm skims your stomach, then dips lower, two slender fingers come to rest right at the edge of your panties, hovering with an almost comical hesitation. a beat passes, as if he’s trying to be polite now, of all times.

so you reach down and lace your fingers through his, and guide him. not under, but over—pressing the backs of his knuckles to the damp cotton stretched over your pussy.

he moans into the crook of your shoulder—not an act of theatrical lewdness, but the real deal. surprised. like he genuinely can’t believe you’re letting him touch you there.

like if you changed your mind, he’d probably curl up and die.

his hips buck forward, unthinking. the weight of his cock slots tighter in the seam between your thighs, thick and burning hot through both your layers.

the angle’s a bit awkward, and you can’t stop smiling.

still, it feels good.

really good.

you start to move first, nudging his cock through the slick mess you’ve made of your thighs. he gets the message fast. his hand starts working in tandem, palm grinding on your mound as his fingers stroke through the soaked fabric, catching the shape of your folds beneath.

you rock back into him while he ruts forward, a lazy little loop of drawn-out, mutual indulgence that gets sloppier the longer it goes. your skin’s hot and buzzing despite the absurd cold of the room. everything’s messy now. slick and sticky where he’s rutting into the curve of your ass, fingers wet with arousal that has long-since seeped through cotton. his palm applying pressure as if coaxing more from you is a matter of necessity.

he doesn’t last long. not like this. the tension breaks with a soft grunt and what feels like a synchronised full-body convulsions that passes through both of you as he finishes, thick spurts of release painting the inside of your thighs, messy and warm.

eventually, he softens. your thighs remain tacky, glossed in a mixture of sweat and come. his breathing evens out, the rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours as the tension slowly drains out of him.

by morning, satoru is feigning innocence, blinking at you through bedhead and sleep-creased cheeks. while his morning wood juts out proudly under his boxers. then, with all the sincerity of a man caught red-handed:

“must’ve been the cold,” he yawns, “you know—thermostat-induced morning wood.”

you check the unit. turns out, the temperature was six degrees below what you usually keep it.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

sex-addict!satoru must love making your life just a little bit harder.

you don't have anything against sex, not really. in fact, you're all for it. you enjoy it as much as the next person. especially with satoru. but him? nothing about him is average, something you should know by now.

he's never the one dealing with the aftermath, not like you. he doesn't have to limp, or ache, or find new ways to sit without wincing. no bedroom bruises for him, no hickeys.

oh, the hickeys. they drive you absolutely insane, plastered everywhere. more often than you'd like to admit, you forget to cover some of them.

it's one thing to get stared at by judgmental adults in public. what's worse? walking beside your boyfriend, who's got that infuriatingly smug grin, like he's silently broadcasting, yeah. i did that.

"it'll be so quick. five minutes, that's all." satoru whines, already trailing needy kisses down your neck.

"no," you huff, trying to bat him away as you dab another layer of concealer onto your collarbone, attempting to hide an older, still-stubborn red mark. "we're already late, 'toru." besides, it's never five minutes. five minutes won't be enough for either of you, and then it'll turn into thirty. next thing you know, you're fucked dumb still begging for more.

he grins, barely pulling back. "even better! we're already late? go big or go home!" what did that even mean?

your resolve is already crumbling. "i don't need anything new to cover up. this is already taking forever." despite what you're telling him, there's a warmth flooding your veins. satoru doesn't miss the way your thighs clench. he never does.

"fine, then. no hickeys. promise. i'll be in and out." he turns on the full force of those puppy-dog eyes, and honestly, who are you to say no to that? in your defense, you really did try to hold your ground. but… this was satoru.

you don't even finish nodding before he scoops you up, dropping you onto the bed. with one hand, he shoves aside the panties you're wearing under your skirt, and then he's bottoming out, a deep groan of pure bliss rumbling in his chest. you're embarrassingly wet, like you'd been craving this as much as he had.

satoru wants to tease you about it, but he knows he's treading a thin line. you let out a soft moan, a sound he'll never get tired of, as his cock drills into you.

two shared orgasms later, you're shaking in his arms, too spent to even check the time. your sore pussy is leaking both his cum and yours, leaving the sheets beneath you sticky.

catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, you squint at a new spot of blooming red, right beneath your jaw. your mouth falls agape, "satoru!"

he's half-asleep, curled into your side. "oops," he grins, as soft as it is insincere. it's clear that neither of you are going anywhere, anytime soon.

but, out of it all, the hardest thing is the fact that you need this as much as him.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH

[digitalcreaturelurking]

"five minutes"

[digitalcreaturelurking]

calling your cocky boyfriend satoru handsome mid-thrust

after hours of riling him up, he’s finally got you folded nearly in half, both your legs slung over his shoulders, his thick cock driving into you with a rhythm that’s got the headboard rattling.

“hnngh—fuck!” you whine, hands clutching his wrists as his relentless thrusts shake your core, he’s got one hand fumbling with your tits, squeezing harshly, drawing sharp gasps from your lips.

his hips snap forward, each buck deep, his lower abs slamming against you. “hhhmm, takin me so good, baby..” he purrs, you’re lost in the haze, your body trembling, but your eyes lock onto his face, sharp jaw, flushed cheeks, that fucking smirk.

and the words slip out before you can stop them. “so handsome, baby...” he freezes, just for a heartbeat, his cock still buried deep, hand stalling on your breast.

his eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing. “what’s that?” he asks, voice quieter, you bite your lip, cheeks burning, but he doesn’t give you time to backtrack.

his smirk returns, and he leans closer, your legs slipping higher on his shoulders. “handsome, huh? fuck, you’re gonna regret sayin’ that.” his hips snap forward, hard, rough, the kind of thrust that makes your whole body jolt and a cry rip from your throat.

“satoru!” you gasp, tears pricking your eyes as he pounds into you, faster now, looks like your compliment lit a fire in him.

his hand leaves your tits, gripping your thigh to keep you spread, his cock dragging against your walls. “watch how fucking good your handsome boyfriend fucks you, baby.” he growls, clicking his tounge, a playful smirk forming on the corner of his lips.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

buying satoru a xs condom and he is genuinely offended¹⁸

you tossed the box of extra small condoms onto the bed, right where satoru was sprawled, scrolling on his phone, his eyes flicked up, catching the label XS and his smirk froze, replaced by a look of pure, offended disbelief.

“the fuck is this?” he said, holding the box like it was a personal insult, you bit your lip, stifling a laugh, leaning against the bedroom doorframe.

“thought i’d get you something... fitting.” you teased, your voice all innocence, but your eyes sparkled with mischief, satoru’s jaw twitched, his long fingers crushing the box slightly.

“fitting? fitting?”

the crushed box dangled from his fingers before he tossed it aside, the cardboard hitting the floor with a soft thud, his smirk returned, but it wasn’t playful anymore. "funny baby?" he asked and you kept silent.

“funny?” he repeated, as he closed the distance between you in a few strides. “you really think my dick is small? ” you tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze with a defiant grin, though your heart was pounding.

“just thought i’d give you a reality check.” you said, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “you knooow, keep that ego of yours in line.” satoru’s laugh stiffened “oh, baby.” he murmured, one hand slamming against the doorframe beside your head, caging you in.

his other hand grazed your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. “you’re gonna regret that.” before you could fire back, his lips crashed into yours, kiss messy, desperate, tongue sweeping into your mouth as he pressed himself closer.

you grabbed at his shirt, tugging at the fabric, half wanting to pull him closer, half wanting to push him away just to see how far you could test him.

he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. “you’re gonna learn real quick what fits and what doesn’t.”

you barely had time to react before he was lifting you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed, dropping you onto the mattress with a bounce.

he then stripped off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abs, every line of him radiating power. “still think i'm working with extra small?” he asked, voice laced with mockery as he undid his belt with a tug, the sound of leather sliding through fabric making your heart jump.

you propped yourself up on your elbows, smirking despite the heat pooling low in your belly. “prove me wrong, then.” you challenged then his eyes flashed, and in an instant, he was on you, hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart.

“oh, i will.” he tugged your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him, his fingers traced up your inner thigh, until they found your core, already slick.

you whimpered, and he chuckled, low and filthy, as he shoved his pants down, freeing himself, your eyes widened at the sight of him — he is so fucking hard — and definitely not fitting the label you’d teased him with.

he caught your stare, and his smirk grew downright wicked. “still think it’s small?” he asked, gripping himself as he positioned himself between your thighs, the tip brushing against you.

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died in your throat as he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you so completely it knocked the air from your lungs.

you cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, hitting every spot inside you that made you see stars. “you think my dick is small?” he growled, as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “yet it’s hitting every fucking inch of you, isn’t it?” his hips snapped forward, harder and deeper, and your desperate moans are enough as a answer.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

calling CALEB gege as he’s about to leave for an overnight clean-up protocol may not have been the most brilliant idea.

you were so drowsy when your lips called out for her gege, barely conscious when caleb slipped into your room to let you know he’ll be gone until morning. you couldn’t fully register his words as you strained to open your heavy eyes, so droopy that you only saw just a slight sight of a farspace fleet uniform. he looked like a stranger with his hat made a looming shadow over his face, but you knew it was him when a warm, familiar hand gently touched your face as he bid you goodbye.

you could feel caleb’s thumb graze your bottom lip for a moment before pulling away, and your hand failed to reach for his when he stood up straight, not wanting him to go. you knew more than anyone how vital his role was as colonel, and wouldn’t dare to cause any trouble for him or think about getting in the way of his job, but watching him walk away from your bedside in your overly sleep-deprived state left your heart in two.

“gege…”

the only word that first came to your mind as blackness surrounded the edges of your vision, your eyes squinting to focus on the tall figure that stopped at your bedroom door. you didn’t think about it, didn’t know how much of an effect it had on caleb when you’d call him gege—let alone in such a sleepy voice. nevertheless, the tone of voice you used when calling out to him was so innocent in your mind, yet an arousing temptation in his ears. the look he gave you as he turned around left your thighs tensing against one another.

it really was an accident—you didn’t mean to do it.

it’s just been so long since that four-letter word slipped past your lips, and it was like a fleeting thought—a subconscious want coming into light.

you didn’t want your gege to leave.

and he wouldn't leave—he had a sudden ‘family emergency’ to tend to, and he would have to put the clean-up on hold for the next thirty minutes.

so when you found yourself repeating the word over and over again as you felt your pussy split in two, a sense of gratification washed over caleb’s content face, smiling at how you were falling apart on his cock. it was no surprise that you were taking him in so well, sucking him in with every hair-pulling thrust, the squelching between you two tainting your ears. it was so wet, so loud, so nasty—it all was like encouragement for him to fuck you even harder with your whimpers and whines for more.

it had been so long since the last time you called caleb gege that any time you almost called his name, he was quick to correct you as he picked up the pace, groaning at your nails dragging along his back. his dress shirt was at the mercy of your markings.

“gege.” it wasn't just a desire, but a command, “not caleb—gege.”

you couldn't have agreed more as you arched your back into his chest, tears in your eyes. you looked up at him as you felt his gloved hands spread your legs apart further to lay to rest his cock so deep that you thought you were beginning to cry, and you were, your lashes wet and your hiccuping cries made you look too cute in caleb's eyes.

and you would look even cuter as you came on his dick, moaning for her gege, begging for more as your hips chased after his to fuck through your high. caleb would make sure to give it to you, all of it, losing himself inside of your feverish walls until he was cumming, too. he couldn't stop himself from wanting to fill you up with his babies, fucking his seed far into you that you were gasping from the overstimulation building up at the pit of your stomach.

if you didn't want your gege to leave, then this was the only solution, right?

[digitalcreaturelurking]

they mean nothing to me btw

[digitalcreaturelurking]

Zayne now officialy a girl dad, yayyyy♡♡

Hmmm what should we name her...

Thanks to everyone who joined the vote, LMAOO the gender reveal was done democratically 😭

[digitalcreaturelurking]

sylus who lets you do whatever you want when you go down on him,, he doesn’t thrust his cock to the back of ur throat, doesn’t grip ur hair and force you to choke on him

he’s so fucking elated that you’re giving him anything at all that he just threads his fingers in ur hair and caresses ur scalp and cheeks while you suck him off. he’s just groaning and shaking his head in disbelief that this is really happening, occasionally praising you with, “yes. that feels so good, kitten” and “you take me so well.”

especially when you DO end up taking him further back into your throat, his eyes genuinely start to cross, his chin goes slack, and a fucked our smile pulls up the corners of his lips as u take him deeper n deeper. it’s so warm and wet and the back of ur throat is so tight he has to gather ur hair in a ponytail to grip, just to have something to keep him grounded

lots of deep gravely, “uh-huh”’s snd “ohhhhhh..”’s fall from his pretty throat as you take him deep, trying so hard not to choke on him

he WILL however, taunt u a little, saying things like,, “you can go deeper than that.” or “is that all you can take, sweetie?” he’s trying to test ur limits without physically pressing you to, and his words are more than enough for u to want to try :3

[digitalcreaturelurking]

make-up sex after a fight

五条悟 ・satoru gojo ／ smut . MDNI 18+

"baby," SATORU GOJO pants out, hips pistoning foward with that maddening rhythm he knows you'd love to hate when you're mad at him. "you're really gonna stay mad at me now? while i'm inside you?" it shouldn't feel this good. the molten ache blooming within completely undermines all the well-earned hostility you've spent hours nursing. rational thought gives fast beneath the exquisite strain of your cunt being stretched open, pride unspooling into heat that floods your loins.

"mean," he groans, voice pitching into a petulant whine as his pelvis press forward, cock seated deep while his thumbs toy with your nipples. "you're being so mean to me right now."

"you were clenching so tight when i put it in," one hand abandons your chest to slide under your thigh, hauling it higher, spreading you open so he can fuck you deeper—less motion, more presence. "but your face..." a wet smooch lands near the corner of your mouth, "ugh. still mad face. pissed-off face. what'd i do?" his hand slides to your breast, squeezing lightly.

"you love me," satoru whispers, soft and pleading. "remember? this whole thing works both ways. mutual adoration. unconditional forgiveness. emotionally-attached, sexually-transcendent codependency."

his smile twitches when your eyes roll, clearly unimpressed. doesn't stop him. if anything, it spurs him on.

"okay, okay, i know you're mad," satoru sighs, fucking into you with the languid, indulgent motion that feels like mockery.

"but do you have to punish both of us? come on. your pussy's being sooo nice to me, and up here-" his hand drifts upward, fingertips brushing your jaw like he's sketching the expression he's about to insult. "but you're up here looking like you'd slit my throat if you had half the chance."

he blinks, thick lashes sweeping downward like stage curtains before he looks up at you again, crystalline blue and practiced guilt. one look at those eyes and you're shielding your face with a hand, so not as to succumb to his seduction.

"hey." long fingers wrap around your wrist, gentle but unyielding. "no hiding." he kisses your knuckles, then tilts your palm toward his cheek.

"you wanna scream at me? do it later." he closes his eyes, revelling in your touch. "write me a post-it that says 'go fuck yourself, stick it on my forehead. fine."

those words come light, but his body tells a different story. the way his cock pushes in again, coaxing more heat into your core than his mouth or fingers ever could. slow thrusts give way to teasing pace, shallow strokes that only make you chase the fullness he's withholding.

"but don't pretend like you don't still love me when i'm inside you." he groans in theatrical anguish. "that's fucked up. plus i can't cum if you're still mad at me." his thrusts slow to a coaxing grind, his brow pressing to yours as if intimacy might dissolve your silence. then it happens—just for a second—an imperceptible twitch at the corner of your mouth.

satoru brightens instantly.

"oh my god." he gasps, "you smiled. that was a smile. you do still love me. i knew it."

[digitalcreaturelurking]

He get emotional for his wifey and baby

Btw guys

[digitalcreaturelurking]

# LAUGHABLE LUNCH ! ᯓ★

ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS : your husband reacting to you and your child’s joined bento box!

ᯓ★ PAIRINGS : xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb x reader (separate)

ᯓ★ WARNINGS : xavier flash banging the whole association, zayne falling in love for the billionth time, everyone is crying, i went berserk on sylus sorry (anyone remember some of the names?)

XAVIER ᯓ★

ZAYNE ᯓ★

RAFAYEL ᯓ★

SYLUS ᯓ★

CALEB ᯓ★

@ alyakhq, do not plagiarise, copy or translate my work pls :)

[digitalcreaturelurking]

wrong recipient, right reaction? || texts between lads men x f!reader

summary: you accidentally send your bf a risky picture meant for Tara. now you have to face the aftermath.

warnings: mdni! suggestive content, established relationships, some of the boys are too secure in your relationship so they are the absolute Best, post-kaboom caleb so he is Intense (you match his freak though)

a/n: here's the photo i think you accidentally sent the boys 🤭

also some of my fave comments are from you guys saying my smau's read as if they're from the game or that the boys are really in-character. i def struggle to write some guys more than others, so i'm curious who you guys think i main 👀

masterlist taglist sign-up

© 2025 saturntosatoru on Tumblr, all rights reserved.

[digitalcreaturelurking]

☾𖤓 ; caleb making it fit

caleb’s fingers plunge in and out of your wetness, producing an obscene melody of squelches and moans. he’s been at it for what seems like ages, trying to loosen you up—not that you’re complaining.

before even he resorted to fingering you, he had already tried everything else he could think of to make things easier on you.

he massaged your sore body, pressed kisses into every crevice of your skin, lapped at your clit until you squirted on his lips, and even let you hump his thigh.

and while he never viewed any of those things as a chore, his patience began to wear thin after seeing that you could still barely manage to take two of his fingers.

“pips, you’re gonna have to be a big girl this time, okay?” he withdraws his fingers in order to cup your cheeks.

“y-yeah but, it’s too big isn’t it…?” your voice trails off as you look up at him with worry in your eyes.

“not at all, sweets. trust your dear caleb, yeah?”

he parts your thighs and lines himself up with your slit, just admiring the sight. slapping his length against your bud, he smiles to himself. “pretty girl. you’re gonna take me so well aren’tcha?”

before you can even answer, he pushes his hips forward, finally sliding past your entrance. it stings, feels full.

“caleb!” you cry out, fingers instinctively latching on to his toned back. he groans out, “shit, you’re still so tight—”

“sorry,” you mutter into his shoulder, trying not to quiver from his sheer girth. it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“don’t be sorry, baby. this is perfect.” he pushes deeper, and that sting inside of you melts into a pang of hot pleasure.

soon enough, your body has completely given in to caleb, and you’re finally loose enough for him to plow you like he’s wanted to do for months.

his hips snap into you at a merciless pace, and he sings your praises like you’re a deity.

“i knew you could do it—my pretty girl, my good girl. you wanted to make your caleb happy, didn’t ya?”

“fuck—yes, ‘leb…! wanted to make you happy,” you slur, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock kissing the deepest parts of your cunt.

at that, caleb simply grins, and pushes your thighs back to fuck you even deeper—the way he’s been dreaming about.

a/n: someone shoot me dead. school starts back in like a day…. anyways here’s smth quick since i’ll likely be gone for a bit!! enjoy xx

⟢ zoey’s masterlist !