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scaredpigeons · 23 days ago

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BEST IN THE BIZ — !!

— Lycaon x Reader x Rina

— ~3.6k

— mating press (briefly), overstimulation, dacryphilia, edging, dollification (if you squint), knotting, creampie, stone top Rina, service top Lycaon, fem!reader, reader is called 'mistress', pwp

ardently avoids eye contact. i was possessed idk. this started out as just porn and then i wrote plot but it got out of hand so i snipped most of the plot and this is what's left. i hope it's coherent idk. manifesting a lycaon pull by posting this tbh. dividers from @/adornedwithlight.

You knew you were fucked the moment you caught yourself typing ‘thiren dildo knot’ into your phone at four in the morning.

Your crime illuminates the dark of your room, search results reflected in your glassy eyes. The depravity is lost on you. You're so horny you can't sleep, much less feel guilty about drilling your (regular, average, lacking in girth and curve and length, not dripping for you the way he would) dildo into yourself, staring at sex toys and imagining him instead.

It only hits you after you cum. Right next to the usual disdain, the nagging realization that you have to clean yourself up, guilt nestles in. It does two neat little circles and sinks like a stone in your stomach. You find yourself with your phone in your hand, sketchy website leering at you. A countdown scrolling across the top advises you that your cart will be held for another four minutes and 12 seconds. Buy now, or your custom order (wolf thiren mold, large, medium firmness, cumtube included, custom colors) will be released for another horny idiot to pick up.

You delete the dildo from the cart, wonder briefly if you should ditch the email attached to the account, and pay for the eight pack of lube you'd added. Guilty, but not that guilty.

It's not supposed to be like this. You're not supposed to want his knot this badly. Lycaon had said so himself the first time you'd asked for it. It isn't a small thing – wipe that smirk off your face. It isn't something to be taken lightly, that's all he meant.

The entire situation had gotten out of hand; you'd hired Victoria Housekeeping a handful of times to assist with the clean up of your recently acquired property. It was a small place, and you had been in no rush to get the job done. They had divided the project over the span of a few weeks, assigning only Lycaon and Rina for the task.

Each visit had grown less and less professional. By the end of the project, you were scrambling to find something else for them to do, unwilling to let them walk out of your life just because the contract demanded so.

All three of you knew it wasn't professional to keep taking your calls. In fact, their conduct in your home violated several clauses within their contract – but by the time you had messaged Lycaon to ask if he could help you tote a new bed frame up the stairs, he had already stopped insisting on a contract. A friendship had grown, an ease that started between you and Rina and gradually thawed Lycaon's affections.

It wasn't uncommon to arrive at your home and find Rina already waiting. He'd been suspicious, had seen the starry look in your eyes, your swollen lips and the boneless, fumbling way you moved. He couldn't pinpoint when you and Rina had started becoming physical, but he could smell the stench of sex in the air the moment the door opened. He knew what he'd find if he let himself sink to his knees before you, sniffing and licking at your cunt like he wanted.

For months, though, he refused to act. He suppressed his baser urges, whittling them into compliments instead.

Your hair looks beautiful. Rina did it? Why isn't he surprised. And that dress? Yes, also Rina's choice. Of course.

It's not jealousy. It's something else that shares the same form, feels the same way. Lycaon agonizes over how to fit himself into your life, how to be needed, oblivious to the fact that you wanted him as things were.

Rina had been forced to meddle, casually stringing the both of you along until the conversation had occurred ‘naturally’. Even with your shared feelings out in the open, Lycaon remained restrained. His touches were subdued, moments together stolen and short.

The first time he’d fucked you had been a ‘matter of impropriety, ill-befitting an attendant’, as Lycaon had so stuffily put it.

In short, he’d gotten cold feet after he'd made you cum on his fingers, after Rina had gently nudged him aside to lap up the mess left on your thighs.

“We aren't here on business,” Rina reminded him, challenge in her tone all but calling him a pussy.

She twisted you up in her arms quickly, her hands pressed to the backs of your knees to spread you wide. You leaned back against her, almost entirely unaware of the moral crisis Lycaon put himself through. You're barely there after you cum, take time to get back into your own head - but the way you move so eagerly for Rina makes his cock jerk in his pants.

Rina’s hand had slid down the back of your thigh, her nipples hard for the way you tried to keep your leg where she had held you. Her fingers teased your dripping slit. She dragged them through your folds, prodding at your hole, showing Lycaon how eagerly you sucked them in. She made a show of spreading them, showing off the way you clung to her fingers, the way you dripped for them.

His resolve was iron-clad, but you'd melted through with your little whimpers, desperate voice whining "please, Lycaon.”

He was still a man, at the end of the day. You were bound up for him, snared like prey. He had wanted to treat you gently, to be slow and reverent - but he had pounded into your cunt instead, deep and slow. Any faster and he knows he would have popped his knot into you, had you locked together with your legs thrown over his shoulders, body bent nearly in half.

He'd pulled out, breathlessly asking where you wanted him to cum, stroking himself hard and fast, a hand wrapped tight around his knot. Rina had shuffled you up quickly, stretching your arms above your head, wrists gathered by one of her hands. She beckoned to your tits, the same wave he had seen her use countless times to invite clients to their tea.

Lycaon found the time to treat you gently later. He took his time, gentle and reverent as he wanted - still no knot.

You'd taken the rejection to heart, decided that if he said no once, then that was all there was to it. It was his dick and he could do what he wanted with it. You were too afraid of being pushy, or objectifying – or any number of things that might make him uncomfortable. Fantasies were fine.

Fantasies, and maybe a custom dildo. You were still thinking about it, the page still bookmarked on your phone. Next paycheck, you would tell yourself.

It came out the way all of your fantasies do – by Rina pulling it from you. Three fingers deep, pumping into you steadily, so torturously consistent, so committed to the slow build of your pleasure until the truth came gushing out.

She had this game she loved to play – making you narrate your fantasies. No detail spared or she'll stop stroking your needy little clit – and you would hate that, wouldn't you?

This time it had all come to light – how badly you wanted Lycaon's knot, how you were saving up just for a taste of a fake one.

Rina giggles in the aftermath. She dresses you quickly in your sleepwear, gesturing for you to raise your arms so she can roll your shirt down.

"Of course, you know that can be arranged,” Rina says, as casually as if you'd asked her for a cup of tea.

You feel like you've been shocked. Your arms are still sticking straight up in the air when you protest.

“No– it's just a stupid fantasy.”

Rina guides your arms back down, lets you rest and pose yourself without her guidance. She slips her hand into yours.

“I don't think it's stupid at all, Mistress.”

“Don't call me that,” you whine, swatting the air where she had been a moment ago. “It makes me feel gross.”

“Sir Lycaon likes it,” Rina teases.

Your face warms. You mumble a retort, lame and forgotten.

“I'll speak with him,” she assures you.

“No, don't. Don't tell him.”

“Leave everything to me.”

The subject of your objectification knocks on your door at 10 AM the next week. A standing appointment for coffee, Lycaon would call it – otherwise known as your weekly coffee date. Rina wiggles her fingers in greeting, drifting inside casually, the scent of vanilla trailing after her.

For a moment, you wonder if she had mentioned anything at all to Lycaon. He appears overwhelmingly normal about all of this. Clarity strikes you, lightning to your nerves when Rina doubles back to press her hand to the small of your back.

“You aren't just going to stand there, are you?” She asks.

Both of you jolt. You shuffle to the side, nearly tripping over your own feet to get out of the way. Lycaon shuts the door behind him. You speak over each other, both stammering apologies and excuses.

“Rina mentioned –”

“Was the trip here –”

You stall out, trying to give room for the other to speak.

“Sorry, I–”

“My apologies, I didn't mean to –”

Rina finally has mercy on the two of you, taking hold of the conversation before you can fizzle out a third time. She makes things clear upfront: your desire has been communicated to Lycaon. He has agreed. Don't look so serious, you two – this is a good thing.

The rest falls into place naturally. Or, as naturally as it can with Rina pulling the strings.

“We have the entire afternoon,” she informs you, turning to head to your bedroom. You're expected to follow, and you do - of course you do. Lycaon trails behind you, fingers ghosting against your wrist.

“You make it sound so formal,” you drone, plopping unceremoniously onto the edge of your bed.

“Oh, it's not formal,” Rina tuts. She drifts behind you, hands working at the tension in your shoulder. She leans forward, breasts pressing against your back, her cheek against yours, eyes locked on Lycaon. “It's just us.”

Time quickly became a suggestion. Minutes bled together, strung loosely between each touch, held secret in the clutch of Lycaon's pocket watch - the same watch that lays discarded in a heap with the rest of his clothes.

Your chest is pressed to the mattress, head cradled in Rina’s lap. Her hands rove across your hair, fixing it again and again as Lycaon drives into you. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping your hips up and pinned flush wish his. His breath is hot at the back of your neck, teeth aching to nip at your nape, to mark your delicate skin. He drags his broad tongue across the places he wants to bite.

You've lost count of the ways they've bent you, the positions Rina had asked of you.

First, it was missionary, your own choice - but the angle had been all wrong, too difficult to squeeze his knot in that way. Rina had taken over from there, posing you as she thought best. By the time she had stopped mid-mating press, you realized this wasn't about trying to find the best position to take Lycaon’s knot. Rina had been playing her own game.

Rina's hand lights on Lycaon's shoulder, a barely-there brush of her fingers. He growls as if she's stuck her hand in his dinner bowl, the noise rumbling from his chest and through your back. He buries his cock in deeper, resisting the idea of stopping *again*, and his tapered tip wedges against a spot so deep inside you that you spasm in his arms. You cum so hard you swear you blackout for a few moments, your body a throb of pleasure, hips squirming, pussy trying to suck him in all the way.

You feel it - the first slip of his knot, the first stretch. The burn sears into pleasure. Your breath catches in your throat, a strangled moan escaping, pressed into Rina’s thigh.

“Please, please, please,” you sob.

Rina pushes harder against Lycaon’s shoulder. His lip curls, but he pulls back. His cock drags all the way out of you, leaves you empty, clenching around nothing. Your hands fist the fabric of Rina's skirt.

She doesn’t give you more than a moment to recover. Your pussy is still clenching when Rina's hands ghost across your ribcage. Sparks shower across your skin, nipples peaking painfully. She urges you with insistent, well-placed touches, tutting softly at the way you whimper. Her hands smooth sweat-slick hair from your face, fixing the strands reverently. She tucks two fingers under your chin and you raise your sight to her. It takes a moment for your hazy eyes to focus.

A touch on the side of your leg. You swing obediently into her lap. Rina's cold fingers pressing gently against the side of your neck, coaxing you against her chest. Your cheek cushions on her breast

Her fingers smooth sweat slick hair from your face, touch chilled and just on the side of clammy.

“Another, Mistress?” Rina asks sweetly, petting your hair. She pointedly ignores Lycaon's huff.

You peer up at her, tears brimming your eyes, catching the light and sparkling so prettily. You don't have the words. Could you even cum again? You want to plead, to whine – it had been right there. You had been so close to what you'd wanted.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she coos. The backs of her fingers press to your heated cheeks. “Cry if you must. It's all right.”

Rina's smile grows as your tears spill. She makes no move to wipe them from your cheeks. This is how she likes you, how she finds you most beautiful - worn down, fucked out, a mess in her arms for her to clean up and toy with.

Lycaon can't stand to see you cry, though. The bed creaks as he sits up, fishing a handkerchief from his discarded waistcoat. He dabs at your cheeks, tucking a knuckle under your chin to hold you in place.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against your hair. "It was too much. I should never -”

"No." Your voice wobbles. "No, I just– I want your knot so bad.”

His cock jerks. Pre-cum dribbles from his tip, pools in his fur. Lycaon bites the rumble in his chest into a whine, locked tight behind sharp teeth.

“All right,” he breathes, heart hammering in his chest. “All right. Yes, of course. You'll have it. No more tears, please.”

Rina urges you from her chest. She knows where she's needed, knows not to linger. She presses her hand to Lycaon's shoulder, directing him to lay back against the bed. He's not quite as pliable as you are, never has been - especially not when he's wiping tears from your cheeks, kissing your forehead. His touch lingers when he follows her directive, hand stroking down the back of your arm, across your elbow, along your forearm.

She lets you toddle over to Lycaon on your knees, lets his be the hands that steady you when you swing your leg over him. You're still crying, sweet thing, tears wetting the fur of his stomach.

You wiggle into place awkwardly. His drippy tip glides through you pussy, nudging at your puffy, sensitive clit. You suck a breath through your teeth, lifting off him. The sensation is sharp, teetering on the edge of pain. Your knees pinch in and nudge Lycaon's sides, thighs jiggling. His eye tracks the movement immediately, hand stroking from your ass to your thigh, back and forth.

Rina slots in behind you. She keeps her touch on your hips light, urging you back down. Lycaon’s chest stills, his breath caught as she works you into a simple, back and forth path, dragging his cock along your slit. Once you settle into her rhythm, she reaches below you, gripping the base of Lycaon's cock, holding him steady.

He slides home easily, your pussy still molded to the shape of him. You keen, still sensitive. This new angle has him pressing against spots that dot your vision with stars. You sink deep, trembling and relieved all at once.

You get a few breaths together. Lycaon's head rests atop yours. He swallows audibly. His warm hands flex at your hips, restraint evident, strength held at bay by resolve alone. He's strong, so much stronger than you – he could press you down onto his cock easily, force you to take him to the hilt. The thought makes you clench around him, pussy fluttering.

Lycaon's teeth click next to your ear. His claws prick your skin for the fraction of a second, and then he's keeping his fingers off you, holding you by the palms. His cock throbs, twitches, aching to plug you with his knot.

Before you can grow too comfortable sitting on his cock, milking him dry with the squeeze of your pussy in response to every shallow thrust, every aching press of his knot to your hole, Rina begins her adjustments. At your hips first, the little suggestion of movement in her fingertips. You don't respond immediately, pussy so full you can't think straight. She pinches the fat of your hips, spurring your obedience.

She gets your hips rocking first, guiding you until you settle into the movement on your own. It's gentler than before, but each press of your hips sucks him deeper. This is the one - it has to be.

Rina doesn't let you stay hunched over. Her hands touch to your back, adjusting your posturing until your sitting so pretty on his cock. She adjusts your arms, lets you wind them around Lycaon’s neck instead of curling up behind him to claw at him shoulders.

You're almost there, can feel him slipping in, the stretch making your eyes roll back. Rina makes one final adjustment to your posture. She pries your face from the safety of Lycaon’s shoulders. All your pretty little sounds, your focused expressions, are clear for both of them to see.

“I'm– I'm close–” Lycaon huffs, keeping his face pressed to your shoulder. His body is coiled tight, nearly shaking with the restraint it takes not to thrust into you, to lock your bodies together and flood your pussy with his cum.

You whine, a hand fisting in his fur. Your stomach burns with the idea that after all of this, after being the perfect little toy, you might not get your prize – that he might slip out of you, cum spilling on your stomachs instead of where it belongs.

Lycaon thrusts into you hard just as your hips cycle down. His knot locks in. You gasp, the sensation foreign. You don't have time to savor it. He pounds into you, locked in place by his knot, your walls squeezing him as you cum again.

“Like you're made for me,” he babbles. Lycaon stops himself just before he bites onto your shoulder, his maw held open, sharp teeth threatening to puncture your skin. His moans are loud, pitching into a whine. His cock kicks inside of you, cum flooding your pussy, trapped in place by his knot.

You slump against him, the last few ropes of his cum spurting, his hips still shifting to drive it deeper. Your body is heavy, weighed down with the flood of pleasure still tinging your blood. Gradually, Lycaon's grip on you softens. His jaw closes, tongue flicking out to lap at your shoulder - short, slow strokes, almost apologetic.

Rina sits back and smooths the wrinkles from her dress. She admires the scene before her with a gentle smile, tilting her head to capture it from every angle. You're fully seated on his cock no matter which way she looks at it, escaped cum dribbling to the sheets in rivulets.

“Is it everything you dreamed?” Hands clasped, head tipped to the side - she looks at the pair of you adoringly, as if the sight of you breathless and locked together is the cutest thing she's ever seen.

“Rina,” Lycaon says, muzzle pressed into the crook of your neck. “Some water for our mistress, please.”

There's something hidden in his tone. You're too tired to piece it together, but Rina hones it on it immediately. She strokes along your spine as she stands, bending at the waist to kiss the crown of your head. She drifts out of the room without argument.

The door latches shut. You sag against Lycaon, his arms tightening around your middle. His tongue laps at your shoulder, collecting the salt taste of your sweat. He edges closer to your neck, lapping at it in broad strokes.

"Are you comfortable?" He murmurs against your skin.

"Mmhm," you hum, eyes shut, trusting your weight to his hold. “Feels good.”

Lycaon's tail dusts against the sheets. He presses his nose to the joint of your shoulder and neck, breathing your scent deep. For a moment, he thinks you might fall asleep, your cheek pressed against the soft fur of his chest.

“Let's order takeout,” you mumble.

Lycaon huffs. The closest thing he can muster to a laugh in his exhaustion. His arm tightens around your waist. He shifts you carefully so that you're both lying down, trying his best to ignore the way you squeeze around him, the way his cock gives a tired, painful jerk. He drags a blanket over your bodies.

“Worked up an appetite, did you?”

You nuzzle closer to his chest, letting out a satisfied sigh. “I just don't want Rina to cook for us.”

Ah. There was that, too.

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scaredpigeons · 24 days ago

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⭒ MORNING WOOD, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader x diluc, wriothesley, childe, alhaitham & ayato ( separate ) ; dry humping. teasing. somno in childe’s. fem oral receiving. morning sex. one thigh slap in childe’s. sorry these are quite short. petnames used; sweetheart, my dear. wc. 1k words max. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

⭒ DILUC

You already have a suspicion that Diluc’s awake by the way his arms are squeezing tight around your waist, making sure that your back is kept flush tight against his chest as you both rest in bed now. Though after a few moments, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to hide it when he leans forward to bury his first kiss of the day into the back of your head, followed by a sleepy sort of groan as he rests himself even closer against you.

It has become a sort of routine at this point. Your lover will give you a wordless kiss that’s meant as a good morning before he leaves the bed to tend to his duties— then he’ll make sure to coax you awake with the next before he leaves the house.

The latter always seeming to quietly ease you from sleep as Diluc’s hand cups your cheek, and he crouches down at your side to watch you wake softly as he asks how you slept.

But today is different, because you’re already awake… not to mention needy, and your lover is still resting beside you in bed. He’s not as close as you need him to be, but close enough for you to know that you can’t let him go just yet.

“Are you awake?” You exhale softly, though it’s turns into a cheeky sort of question when it’s accompanied by a languid grind of your hips, pressing them back into Diluc’s. You make sure to use just enough pressure for your ass to graze along his already semi-hard cock, feeling it throb at the friction as his large hands squeeze tight into your skin.

It earns you a grunt from him, “You’re up early.” But he doesn’t stop you, and that’s reason enough for you to continue your needy little thrusts back. If anything, he watches you like he’s completely enamoured— at your mercy. Having to take a deep inhale before he’s eagerly offering you with a thrust of his own.

“I know.. I didn’t want you to go yet.” You’re pouting as you reply to Diluc, and he seems to like that as he offers you a particularly rough press of his hips. He’s rock hard now, almost leaking against the fabric of his underwear but the last thing on his mind are his duties for the day when he’s got you in such a state.

What sort of husband would he be if he left his love like this? And in such an adorable state too.

“Well, that won’t do. It seems I best stick around then, sweetheart.” His words purr and you gasp out as you feel Diluc’s large palms explore the curves of your body — taking a slow handful of your breast as you hurry to eagerly shove your panties to the side, urging him closer. And even despite the clouded state of your mind— you still find him to be quite charming. Mostly in the way you feel him immediately fumble with the waistband of his boxer shorts, before it’s followed by the hard press of his cock against your thighs as you lift up your leg to accommodate him. To welcome him.

You feel yourself keen with the first heavy swipe of him, his shaft grazing along your already slick folds, and the man over you offers you a low grunt in appreciation for how wet you are already.

You’re both already breathing deep, finding yourselves to be quite sensitive in your sleepy states. But Diluc wastes no time as he let’s the blunt head of his cock split through your folds, following the movement with a kiss smeared the side of your throat before it catches under the hood of your clit, and you both twitch. His huge body feels like it looms over you, and the next draw back of his hips makes him press against the twitching entrance of your cunt, before it’s followed by a shaky exhale when he begins to finally sink into you.

“Afterall, I can always spare some e-extra time for you.”

⭒ WRIOTHESLEY

It almost felt like a dream waking up to Wriothesley. Not only because he was actually in your bed on the surface, but because he was so utterly handsome as he lies next to you now. He seems to still be sleeping soundly, softly snoring as one of his hands rest on his stomach — the other stays quite tightly wrapped around your waist to keep your pressed into his side.

He’s as warm as always as you try to nuzzle yourself closer — basking in the proximity and taking the chance to admire his features as you find yourself tracing your finger across his scarred chest. He was addicting to look at — even with his mess of a bed head, he seemed to be sleeping quite soundly for someone who didn’t sleep much at all.

Against your better judgement, and while lost in your little affectionate, drowsy haze— you opt to secretly press a long kiss against Wriothesley’s rough jawline as you blink up at him. Letting your lashes flutter before you’re nuzzling back into the pillow beneath you. And you do have every intention of falling asleep before it’s disrupted with your lovers next breath.

“Someone’s awake early.” He grumbles, voice thick with sleep and oh so delicious. Apparently, he wasn’t asleep at all. Though you’re not too sure when he woke up — the realisation makes you huff.

“Says you. How long have you been awake exactly?” You poke your finger into his chest, yet Wriothesley seems to catch it quite easily before it can do any true damage. He brings it up to his lips with his next grumble,

“Oh, that is classified information that you don’t need to know. My lips are sealed.” Despite the fact he still looks a little drowsy, you can still see the teasing sort of glow in the icy blue of his eyes when he finally peeks them open to look at you. And his huge body rolls onto his side a second later as he brings himself to face you, keeping you held tight.

“But, if you’re looking for breakfast, well.. you’ve come to the right place. So what may I get the lady, hm?” Wriothesley wiggles a brow at you, and if he didn’t look so devilishly handsome you think you’d flick that expression off of his face. But he’s pulled you close enough for you to be able to feel the heavy press of his cock straining against your abdomen, and now you can’t focus on anything but.

“You’re ridiculous.” You scoff as your concentration wavers.

“Hm? What’s that? You just were looking at me like you were particularly hungry is all, care to explain why that was? Or have I gotten the wrong idea?” But Wriothesley seems to pick up on your thoughts quite quickly. It’s slow at first, experimental, the first roll of his clothed cock against your body and it makes you both gasp as he drags you into him— pressing you closer as your body begins to move in tandem. You angle yourself up needily until he’s able to graze himself between your legs, and you see the way it makes him smirk.

It doesn’t take you both too long before you’re lost in eachother. There’s a sudden shift in the air of your bedroom as you both take a breath, and it’s quite quickly that you find yourself succumbing to the push and pull of his hands as you try to grind up eagerly for more.

Your bodies appear to move seamlessly together as your clothed pussy grinds against Wriothesley’s bulge. the tight press of your skin against his bare chest feels like fucking silk, making him groan as you reach up to wrap your fingers around his shoulders. And he quickly finds himself reaching down to hook your thigh over his hips so he can allow himself a better angle.

Though that also only seems to allow him a better view to notice the wet patch that’s quickly forming in your panties.

“Oh? And what is all this from I wonder?” Wriothesley smirks down at you as he leans in to bury a kiss into your hairline, followed by a few more against your other features. His teasing drawl makes you squeeze your fingernails into his shoulders, brows furrowing with pleasure aswell as an undercurrent of playful frustration.

But that expression alone makes him throb.

“I’m not telling you.” You huff back, a little stubbornly but he seems to love that reaction as his large palms squeeze into your skin. The sudden grip makes you gasp, and Wriothesley takes that opportunity to up his efforts of rutting into you. Until the pleasure swirls and warms your skin with every eager grind of his cock and your body rocks into his desperately to keep up. You can almost feel every sensitive ridge and vein of his cock with how close he feels, even through his boxer shorts. Paired with gentle, teasing presses of his lips against your cheeks as he pants against you.

“Careful now, or I just might assume you’ve been dreaming of me, sweetheart. You gonna confess? Or should I resort to other measures.”

⭒ CHILDE

It’s still early, you think to yourself as you feel yourself wake to the still dark sky outside of your window. Your mind is still a little hazy, thick from sleep and drowsiness and the room is barely visible with the lack of natural light. But despite all of that, you’re still able to feel the first shocking slurp against your cunt — the sudden pleasure making you jolt from where you rest.

“Oh? Finally awake? You kept me waiting.” Childe goads from where his body rests now — buried beneath the comforter that rests along your body with your thighs thrown over his shoulders. He’s like a famished animal as he eagerly buries himself into the intimate skin between your thighs. How long has he been there?

“Ajax?” You yawn, drowsy but still quick to find his exact location when his next hum in acknowledgment is mumbled against your cunt. It sends a pleasurable vibration through your body until your back is arching against the mattress, and your fingers find his auburn hair to twist at the roots and pull.

The sharp surge of pain makes Childe groan against your folds, shaking his head between them as he rolls his tongue along the wet taste of your slick. It’s absolutely filthy the way your body responds, you’re barely awake, but you’re still managing to grind up to meet every messy movement of his mouth, letting him bathe you in needy swirls of the wet muscle as your thighs shake.

You don’t know if it’s the sleep that’s clouding your system now— maybe it’s made you more sensitive… or maybe it’s because the Harbinger has been palming at your body for a while.

You hear Childe slurp and smack at the slick between your thighs, his large palms gripping tightly at your hips as he almost drags you along his mouth — rocking you into him as he drinks up everything you have to offer. You’re not surprised he’s got so much energy so early, he was insatiable at the best of times— for battle… for you. This was no surprise.

Not that you are complaining at all when you feel his tongue press deeper into your pussy with his next breath, squeezing between the tight ring of your walls and it makes your hands fist at his roots even tighter. Your grip makes him moan against you at the sting, followed by the dizzying throb of his cock against the mattress. You knew exactly what he liked.

But Childe’s already got you so close, you can feel the beginnings of your orgasm bursting to warm across your thighs with every mindless roll of his tongue along your walls. And he’s only driven to give you even more when he feels you twitch tight around the muscle, and he buries himself deeper to grind his nose against your clit.

You’re already a panting mess, left pliant above him in a mess of bedsheets as you press your head back against the pillows, and he truly loves nothing more than starting his days like this.

Childe’s appreciation for your state is evident in the next growl he gives you, following it with another hungry smack of his lips against your folds. He slurps at your slick before swallowing loudly, curling his tongue at the entrance of your cunt before he’s trailing it higher and bathing your clit in strong licks. But just as you begin to melt into the pillows, heels digging into the bedsheets as you try to steal more— you jolt suddenly when he palm comes down heavy on your thigh.

The sting almost makes your legs snap shut around his cheeks at how good it feels. And you feel Childe smirk against your folds when he realises,

“Come on now, don’t hold back on me.”

⭒ ALHAITHAM

It was certainly unusual for you to wake up before Alhaitham. Usually it was him coaxing you from your rest, but it seems today the Scribe needed a few extra minutes himself as he stays resting next to you now. He’s breathing softly as you offer him a drowsy blink, admiring how he seems to glow in the morning sunrise as you lie on your side. He’s all cut muscle and clean lines, his hair resting softly across his features as his eyes rest closed and it makes you smile to yourself as you take him in.

Eventually, after not being able to hold yourself back for much longer, you let yourself be the one to wake him up this time. So you start by pushing yourself a little closer on the mattress, gently as to not wake him too soon before your hand is outstretched and you let your fingertips close the distance.

You start soft, leaving featherlight touches across the toned muscle of Alhaitham’s bicep— your words even softer as you blink at him. “Haitham? Wake up.” you exhale, and your fingers trail up even higher, following the curves of muscle across his shoulders and chest until his brows scrunch at the sensation and it makes you feel giddy.

You watch the way his eyes move slightly beneath his eyelids before he’s squinting at you, only offering you a grunt before he’s reaching out suddenly to pull you into his chest. Until you’re close enough for him to rest his chin on the top of your head with his next exhale. He sounds like he’s already quite comfortable again.

But with the new closer proximity, it only lets you feel the way Alhaitham’s heavy cock is already straining against the fabric of his boxer shorts. Now pressing tight against your skin as you shimmy and grind yourself closer— trying to play it off like you’re getting comfortable instead of… desperate for more.

“Seems one of you was awake before even me.” You opt to joke lightheartedly, teasing him as you poke your fingers into the Scribe’s side. It makes him jolt before he’s mumbling drowsy complaints beneath his breath, squeezing his arms around you tighter like it’ll make you stop.

“Hah, very funny. It’s a natural occurrence.” Alhaitham’s voice is still deep with sleep, lower than his usual tone, but the sound only seems to make the desire that twists in your abdomen feel even thicker. It’s even harder for you to ignore with every syllable he groans out. But still you try as you manage to respond to him quickly… given his adorable drowsy state.

“Oh? I thought maybe you just had a crush on me.” He snorts at that one when you feign disappointment. Like you haven’t been together long enough for you to be living together. But even despite your teasing, you still help him pull down your panties when you feel his hands rest against your lower back. His touch warm as you try to push yourself even closer and he hugs you into him in response.

“In truth, I’m surprised that wasn’t already obvious.” Alhaitham’s words make you warm slightly— the small reassurance making you bite down on your lower lip as you try hard not to beam up at him. So instead, you busy yourself with something else as you pull yourself away from him, pushing your hands down the front of his waistband to take a slow handful of his cock as you hear him groan.

You give the heavy weight of him a few languid strokes, making his breathing stutter before you feel his large palm reach to hook blindly beneath your thigh with the next. He makes short work of pulling it over his hips, just as you push down the remaining fabric over his cock, and he thanks you with a grumbled kiss smeared against your temple as you hug close again.

It was quite dangerous for you to look at Alhaitham in a state like this, but it’s hard not to when his inquisitive gaze is looking at you with such an adoring gentleness. You could blame it on the fact he’s just woken up, but with the way he’s holding you tight you know it’s more than just that as you reach between your bodies to line his cock up.

“Is this your way of confessing?” You giggle again as your fingers wrap around him and his eyes narrow at you cheekily before you swipe the tip through your folds. The soft touch makes you both tremble as you feel his hands squeeze into your waist, and he offers you a playful scoff before he’s taking the opportunity to push even closer. His cock pressing through your folds to bare down hard on your clit until your toes curl.

“Hm, maybe I should teach you how to sit still when you sleep. Then we could avoid these sort of problems.”

⭒ AYATO

It always felt particularly nice to wake up next to Ayato — especially given how rare the occurrence was. Usually he’d be gone quite early — leaving you in tucked sheets and his lingering warmth. But the intimate moments like these where you were truly able to bask in the commissioner, being able to have him all to yourself before he had to leave to attend to his duties… were quite the luxury.

So, to make sure you spend it wisely, he wakes you gently. Starting softly with a press of his lips along the dip of your shoulder, his chest pressing tight against your back as he coaxes you from the serenity of your dreams and deeper into him instead.

“Sleep well?” Ayato breathes, his tone lower and more ragged than others may be used to, but not you. It tells you that he’s not been awake long himself, the rougher undercurrent giving him away as it lacks his usual unwavering tone. But it seems part of him must’ve woken up earlier than the rest, making itself known when you feel his cock press against the swell of your ass as he pulls you closer.

“I did. It must be because you’re so comfortable.. and you?” You flatter him, and it earns you laugh exhaled along the sensitive spots on your throat. Though it’s closely followed by the movement of his fingertips across your stomach, and suddenly you’re helping him pull your panties to the side as he palms at your thighs to spread you wider.

Ayato’s fingers trace softly along your intimate skin before he’s pressing them between your legs, rubbing your clit lightly with two of them— he satiates you with another press of his lips on your neck, before he draws back. Smiling to himself.

“Why ofcourse I did. You are here afterall, my dear. It is to be expected.” His voice sounds as a lower hum, and it doesn’t take him long before he’s peeling back the layers of his yukata and lining his cock up to push into you.

You’re barely prepped, barely even awake but the immediate, pleasurable sting that Ayato offers you only makes you draw even nearer as your words break into something breathier, prettier.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” You hum, selfishly— though meant lighthearted and sweet when you feel the commissioners cock graze along the sensitive spots inside of you. The friction has you grinding back into him, pushing more of his cock deeper into the saccharine squeeze of your pussy like you’re trying to convince him to stay.

He wishes he could. But with your efforts, it only takes a few seconds before Ayato’s hips are tight against yours, and he’s drawing back with his next breath against your throat to begin a pace. Followed by another soft chuckle that he buries into your skin.

“You know how I hate leaving you, sweetheart. Fret not, I’ll have breakfast prepared for you at once. Surely that will satiate you until my timely return, hm?”

star divider by @ saradika-graphics

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scaredpigeons · 26 days ago

Text

let me spoil you

in which Lighter gets spoilt to filth on his birthday wc: 2.3k cw / notes: lighter x afab!reader, explicit (MDNI!!), sub!lighter but the d/s dynamics are minor, reader wears lingerie, body worship, light bondage (on lighter), p in v sex, raw sex, riding, light marking, nipple play, edging, dacyrphilia if you squint ig?, giving lighter the love he DESERVES

"I don't want to be greedy," Lighter teased, mouth breaking from yours and looking up at where you were sat on his lap, "but wasn't I promised one more birthday present?"

You let out a breathless giggle as his hands slid up your dress, and another at the ill-concealed confusion on his face when his fingers found the cotton of your usual underwear. It was true - you'd been hinting for days about a special extra present, not trying to hide that you'd bought some new lingerie for this occasion. His eyes had been scanning you all day, unashamedly imagining in the back of his mind what lacy creation you had on under your clothes as festivities with the gang went on.

"It's not really one I could wear underneath," you explained, yet another laugh escaping as you watched the cogs turn in his mind, adding the new information to whatever mental algorithm was guessing what you had prepared for him - cute, like he hadn't been grinding up into you so sinfully just seconds before, "but also... there's something I'd like to try today, if you're up for it."

"Oh? What's that, baby?" Lighter's tone was playful, but the look in his eye was filled with so much love. Bedroom or not, there were very few things he wouldn't try if it was for you - besides, since you'd chosen his birthday to ask, he figured you had something good for him.

"I want to tie you up."

Oh. That wasn't the sort of thing he'd expected. But he also hadn't expected that his first instinct would be excitement - sure, you'd taken the lead in bed before, but having that much control over him? Lighter swallowed thickly - god, that was so hot. Not what he'd had in mind for today, but hot.

"Not, like, a lot. And we don't have to! It's up to you, obviously-" you said, his momentary silence making you backtrack.

"Hey, breathe, babe, I'm not against it," Lighter's hand, still resting at the hemline of your panties, rubbed against your skin reassuringly. His words were chosen carefully, keeping the idea on the table without seeming too excited. He maintained a certain persona - one that, for the most part, crumbled the second you got him alone, but some instinct kept a few bricks of that wall up, not wanting to let out that being at your complete mercy sounded like heaven to him. "It's just... not what I expected. Doesn't the cliche go that you'd be the one tied up as a present for me?"

"Yeah, I know. But I know you, Lighter. You're far too good to me," you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, "And if I let you have your way with me, you're just going to be thinking about making me feel good. It's your birthday, I want to make it all about you- and do not even start about how you feel good when I do, that's not the point."

Slight surprise crossed Lighter as those exact words died on his tongue. You knew him so well, knew exactly how he loved you and how to love him back, all his rough spots and weak points, so you knew exactly where to push to make his last dregs of hesitation fly out the window, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Let me spoil you, birthday boy"

That's all it took for him to nod in agreement, following your instructions to get undressed and wait for you in the bedroom while you got changed. If he hadn't agreed before, the moment you came out in that lingerie, lacy white accented with black frills and bows, a sheer babydoll overtop that explained why you couldn't wear it under your dress, he'd have agreed in a heartbeat. Lighter tended to be weak to your every whim, but especially when your body was on display for him.

You'd arranged restraints as well, soft red rope with golden fastenings, and laughed as you fought off his attempts to touch and kiss you all over in that outfit, decidedly distracted despite the plans he himself had just agreed to, and fairly adept at distracting you, though not enough to stop his legs from being tied to opposing ends of the footboard, spread out, while one rope tied his wrists together and to the headboard above him. Fully exposed, and laid bare for you.

You were straddled across him now, resting on his chest just shy of where his dick, fully hard at this point, strained against his lower abdomen, your lips pressing kiss after kiss along his jaw, neck, collarbone. Tucked into your bra was a tube of lipstick, a shade of red you knew he adored on you, which you'd been using to litter his skin with red kiss marks, a pretty medley with the occasional purple mark you'd sucked onto him. You'd re-applied the product to your lips twice by now.

"Baby..." Lighter breathed, looking up at you with a frustrated pout. He'd meant it to sound warning, but it came out as more of a whine, the complete lack of attention to his leaking cock getting him increasingly desperate. The restraints on his legs kept any thrust of his hips from being meaningful, the ones on his hands stopped him from pulling you down lower. Not to mention, it was driving him insane not to touch you, seeing you looking so delectable and feeling your crotch on his chest and lips against his skin but nothing against his fingers.

"What?" you feigned innocence, but your gaze was lidded as you sat up and admired your masterpiece. Your nails raked lightly against his skin, just short of hard enough to graze him as they traveled lower. "I want to take my time with you."

Your nail caught on his nipple, drawing a sharp breath from his lips. You took the cue, lips finally reaching below his collarbone to close around the bud. A deep groan, his chest arching into your touch at the playful swirl of your tongue, two of your fingers rolling the other one. His breathing was heavy, hitching on every harsher tug or light suck as he tried to conceal just how sensitive you had him by now. But your mouth didn't stay put for long, the allure of leaving even more pretty red kiss marks on him simply too great. Still tweaking his nipple, you trailed kisses upwards, outlining the large jagged scar across his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful," you breathed against his skin, sitting up once again, eyes raking shamelessly over his body. The only thing he could get out was a choked moan, your words coinciding with a sharp pinch to his nipple. "Literally so perfect."

You really made his head spin - 'hot' and 'handsome' he heard often enough, and you called him 'cute' a lot, but 'beautiful'? Lighter wasn't sure anyone had called him beautiful before, especially not while lathing the reminders of his ugly past with affection that was simultaneously too much and not enough. He could only buck his hips fruitlessly, just short of the touch he needed to both release the tension and distract him from just how in love he felt, a feeling so overwhelming it scared him a little.

"You're amazing, Lighter-" you continued between kisses to his chest, "-so amazing-" your lipstick was basically gone now, a few smudges left around your mouth, but you didn't seem bothered about reapplying it this time, more concerned with kissing every possible inch of his skin, "-it is such a privilege to love you-" your mouth trailed lower, and amazingly, for the first time, so did the rest of your body, slowly sliding down his abdomen to give yourself more room "-and I'll tell you every opportunity I get-" and finally, finally you slid down low enough that you were seated on his dick "-I love you-" another kiss "-I love you-" and another "-I love you-" and suddenly your face was in front of his and you kissed him on the lips, greedily swallowing his groan as you roll your hips against his.

And it was all too much - the damp friction that he had been moments away from begging for, every word and touch you blessed him with, the ever-sweet sensation of your lips moving against his so deeply and tenderly - and when you finally pulled away, you could see the faint wet trail of a couple tears along his face, olive eyes glossy and looking up at you as if you were the answer to his every prayer. Still, a look of worry washed over you at the tears, movement of your hips stilling as you brushed the wetness away with your thumb.

"Are you okay?" you asked, and Lighter couldn't help but chuckle even as another stray tear slipped down his cheek at the soft concern in your voice.

"I don't deserve you," he managed, smiling at you so lovingly you just had to laugh along with him. You leaned down, another kiss on his lips as the tension melted from you.

"You deserve every good thing that comes your way, Lighter," you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear as your hips resumed their slow grinding. He almost felt a little pathetic, crying at your sweet words, but a well-aimed movement against his cock, the keening whine you let out as the head caught your clit, had all those thoughts flying out the window. His gasped moan harmonised with the clatter of his restraints against the bedframe as he momentarily forgot his hands were tied, automatically moving to try and grab your waist and push you down harder.

Though, as usual, you knew exactly what he needed, only grinding a moment more before you lifted to pull your panties to the side, ready to sink onto him-

"I- Wait-" Lighter managed, silently cursing himself for listening to the responsible part of his brain, "Don't you want to use a condom?"

"Do you?"

Your eyebrow quirked incredulously, playful smirk on your face like when you presented someone with a gift you knew they'd love, and the thought echoed in his mind so clearly Lighter was almost surprised he didn't say it out loud.

'I need to marry you.'

His reply must have been written across his face, though, because you resumed your movement, your head falling back at the stretch with virtually no preparation, while Lighter let out his own moan with the feeling of your gummy walls slowly taking in more and more of him. Finally seated fully on his cock, you shot him a smile, a little dazed at being so full, then started moving, a slow, sensual rhythm as you bounced lightly and grinded against him. He had to fight the instinct to let his head fall back, the show in front of him far too hypnotising as you fucked yourself on him, pretty moans falling from your lips at every tiny thrust he managed in his position.

"Shit, baby, so pretty for me, please-" you clenched around him at his praise, speeding your movements and causing another deep groan to escape him, "fuck, please, just like that, baby please-"

"What do you need?" you managed despite the way he filled you up so perfectly, taking in how gorgeous he looked, muscular chest littered with red kisses, face flushed and eyes glossy, raking over you with the same indulgence as those unspecified pleas tumbled out.

"Need- shit, need to hold you-" he cut himself off with a moan as you tightened around him, pulling at the restraints on his hands to accentuate his point. It didn't take him any more begging for you to reach up, slightly lifting off his cock to reach the fabric around his wrists. As pretty as he looked all laid out for you and yearning, you couldn't deny you missed his calloused hands on your skin.

As soon as the rope loosened enough for Lighter's wrists to slip out, he was sitting up, chest pressed against yours, one hand groping at your breasts as the other wrapped around your waist, pushing himself impossibly deeper, pulling you impossibly closer. He peppered your face with kisses, lopsided grin forming on his face as you couldn't help but giggle, before his face found its place in the crook of your neck, muttering sweet and filthy nothings into your skin as he lathed it in kisses and nips.

"I'm- fuck, I'm close-" he groaned, the hand on your breast migrating down to rub circles on your clit, the roughness of his fingertips against it sending your back arching.

"Inside. Please," you whined, bouncing yourself faster in time with his shallow thrusts, "'m close too-"

With one final sharp thrust and stuttered moan, Lighter spilled inside you, pulling you down as deep as you could possibly go. His head almost felt fuzzy as you spasmed around his sensitive length, pressing crescent shapes into his shoulders with your fingernails as the feeling of his hot seed sent you over the edge as well.

Gently, he lowered himself back down onto the bed, careful not to pull out as he pulled you down with him to lay on his chest. You looked up at him, that lovesick gaze he never really knew what to do with as you breathed heavily, coming down from your high.

"Did you like your present?" you managed, still singsong and playful as your finger traced the many outlines of your lips on his skin.

"I think-" Lighter responded, brushing a stray hair from your face before cupping your cheek, "I think I'm the luckiest man alive."

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scaredpigeons · 29 days ago

Text

Not my usual content, but please consider donating if you can, and if you can’t, please share.

https://gofund.me/4cee6969

#go fund me #go fund them #help

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scaredpigeons · 1 month ago

Note

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

#lighter smut

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scaredpigeons · 1 month ago

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scaredpigeons · 1 month ago

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To the anon who keeps sending in little love letters about my Mori fics:

I see you, I love you, and I promise I will write and respond to you soon, I’m just recovering from midterms and am feeling super burnt out 🥺

But seeing how much you love my work makes me feel really great.

#rae rambles #mori smut #mori x reader #mori ogai #mori anon 🖤

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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when you're riding him and he's moaning "fuck me fuck me fuck me" 🫠

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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˗ˏˋ BARBELL BACKDRAFT ˎˊ˗

lighter lorenz x f reader

wc : <1k

warnings : reader has pierced nipples, inappropriate fantasy, oral sex, cum, spit, mentions of swallowing, pet names (good girl), lmk if I missed anything

this was literally just an excuse to write about him absolutely cranking that thang crazy style (also a backdraft is a flaming shot of liquor I thought I was being clever) lighter nation I present my humble offering <3

He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this. You of all people, a fellow member of the gang and someone who (to his knowledge) has never expressed any kind of interest in him that stepped over general familial affection. It doesn't even matter and it doesn't matter how much shame he feels stuck to his skin in the light of day, especially when you give him one of those beaming smiles bounding up to him chatting about who knows what.

All that matters right now is the crystal clear mental image of your nipples through your shirt, the barbells pierced through the flesh perfectly accentuated by the tight fabric. Fuck he'd almost moaned out loud this afternoon catching a glorious eye full of them, and seeing you kick up into a run over towards Piper? It was a game, set, match in less than ten seconds.

He'd had to excuse himself for the rest of the day and all of the evening with a lame lie of sudden allergies. No way he would be able to calm himself down enough to spend any time around you and all the others without rocking a massive erection and that was a topic he would rather die than speak about to a group of chortling girls. As much as he loved all of them, his pride would bear the wound forever.

That's not even touching on the fact that he'd rather cut off and eat his own fingers than admit the cause of this massive problem was your unfairly gorgeous chest and how he felt on the verge of a heart attack knowing they were pierced. Did you do that for yourself or for someone else? If so, who caught your eye and would it be a terrible decision to beat them senseless in the name of usurping that spot in your mind?

Those wanton moans bounced around the room freely now though, his dick throbbing painfully in his hand as he gave it a few languid strokes. Eyes closed it was unfortunately very easy to envision you shirtless; those glorious steel barbells glinting off the weak light in his bedroom like cherries on top of a deliciously pillowy scoop of ice cream. You seem like the type to find being on your knees enjoyable, a thought that should make him feel guilty again but such emotions are powerless in the face of naked lust.

Spit dripped, sloppy and attached to his bottom lip in glistening strands, as his pace picked up and hushed grunts filled the room. Would your hair be as nice as he imagined, if he slid his hand around to the back of your head to keep you still and let him use that perfect mouth of yours to his hearts content?

His eyes squeeze shut so tightly abstract fuzzy shapes flash behind the lids as his breathing stutters, feeling his abdomen and balls tightening up the more he indulges in the fantasy. Fuck you'd be even prettier like that, cheeks all hallowed out as you let him fuck your throat with all he's got.

The throbbing in his dick matches pace with his hand now, furiously stroking up and down so fast it's probably just an ambiguous blur from an outside perspective. Are you the type to spit or swallow? Nah, who cares when his real prize would be painting your tits in milky white streaks, watching it stick to the metal of those nipple piercings... Could he suck it off, flick his tongue around that little bud and make you arch your back, shove them even further into his face?

He bets you sound so sweet when you feel good, his fingers would dip down into your panties (which he already knows you prefer black silk after one day you decided to borrow a skirt from Burnice and unknowingly gave all of Blazewood a to die for view of your ass, much to his delight) and he already knows you'd be a sticky, soaked mess in his lap. Would you be a good girl, pop open those lips and suck his fingers clean for him? Yeah, he bets you would.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

There's just something about you that turns him into the lowest form of pervert, breathlessly beating his dick like it's going out of fashion. But he'd be a liar if he said the adrenaline of how inappropriate these fantasies were wasn't addicting, nearly as addicting as his habit of "keeping an eye on you" (really meaning filing away a variety of moments for later use, like now). He'd trade away honor and pride, all that shit, for just ten minutes alone with you. Ten minutes to have you exactly the way he wants.

As one long groan turns into a harsh through the nose exhale, his pace slows down the more his hand gets coated in spurts of hot, sticky cum. His hips stutter before he's sure he's spent, collapsing backwards from the edge of the mattress to starfish in the center as his breathing slowly evens back out. Olive green eyes remain glued to the ceiling, but all he can truly see in his field of view is you with your tongue out and his cum splashed all over your tits flashing him one of those pretty smiles for giving you all he's got.

He knows this is a problem that isn't gonna go away until it reaches a head, like catching a firm right hook to the jaw. He can only hope he doesn't end up sucker punched if and when he does work up any nerve to test the waters with you.

First thing though is finding out why you got those piercings in the first place because if it was for someone else, well, he's not above an old fashioned duel for your hand. Who knows, maybe you're secretly into that kind of thing.

With an exhausted half smile to himself he shimmies down his jeans the rest of the way, lazily kicking them off before fully crawling into bed. As he tugs down one of the pillows, curling his arms around it and breathing in deeply, he can't help but think about a different sort of fantasy now: how good it would feel to have you right here, one of his old ratty shirts clinging to your skin and smelling just like him.

He'll work up the nerve to get there, in his own way.

#🫣#zzz smut #zzz x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #zzz lighter #lighter smut

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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— 「 FLASH FIRE 」

lighter lorenz x reader — 2.8k — mdni summary: it’s reciprocal - lighter helps out with your car, you fuck him in the back seat. everybody wins. content: unprotected sex, forgetting to pull out, creampie, titsucking, hair pulling, brief mention of fisting.

You're running out of excuses.

You had traded favors and supplies for car maintenance for months now. Strictly business, at first, but the aimless teasing had quickly evolved into flirting, and the flirting had rapidly shifted to something more physical. Soon, your car became plagued with all kinds of problems, both real and imagined. Lighter had even let you get away with asking him to change your tail light. He didn’t even seem to realize what you were up to - not at first, anyway.

In reality, Lighter's had you figured out ever since you called him to check your tire pressure. You don't really need his help for most of this stuff, but he puts on a good show when he spreads his tools out in your garage. Your eyes always drift to his biceps when he hefts up the hood of your car. He braces a hand against the side, leans his weight into it, and you're torn between gawking at the way he peers down at the guts of your car, appraising, or the way his ass is squeezed into those jeans, hips cocked, heavy boots tapping against the garage floor.

It usually ended up in the backseat of your car -- or on the hood, or pressed up against the side. You had started stashing condoms in the center console.

“Need me to change your oil?" He offers one day, cutting off the way you're grasping at straws, floundering to keep him on the line. "It's about time."

Was it? You didn't know. You assumed he didn't either, figured he'd show up, check the mileage, and shake his head. Not quite time yet - but that's all right. He already came over, so he can find something else to work on.

But when he rolls up to your place he's got oil and a catch pan in hand. His jacket is discarded on the back of his bike, leaving him squeezed into a white tank top. He pats your arm as he walks by, eyes gleaming behind his sunglasses. Your surprise clearly delights him.

You plop into the back seat while he works, peppering him with offers for his service. Faint guilt swirls in your gut. You hadn't expected him to actually work on your car today. You could pick up his groceries when you ran into town, or help the Sons out with planning for Settlement Days. Each offer was barely considered, dismissed by a muffled ‘nah’.

It turns out the benefits of hooking up with Lighter include free car maintenance.

“You're all set,” Lighter says, slapping his hands against his thighs as he stands. He rounds your car to tower over you where you sit. Your legs swing, hanging off the edge, scuffing against the floor.

You spread your legs for him to step between — force of habit. Can't help but spread ‘em when Lighter steps up like that, when his hands brace against the top of your car and he sways down. He steps between your legs, nudging your knees wider with a powerful thigh.

“How am I going to pay you back?” You sigh dramatically, stifling a giggle. Lighter pretends to think for all of three seconds.

“A kiss?”

“That's all?”

“You're right. Two kisses.”

You grin. You can do better than that. You grab the front of his shirt and tug him down. He ducks past the door, laying you back against the seat. His kiss is languid, smiling against your lips as you laugh. You pull back to take his sunglasses off, noses bumping. You fold them closed and set them in the front seat, half-sitting up to reach.

Lighter takes advantage of the way you stretch, the column of your throat bared to him, ripe for his kisses to darken you skin. He sucks a mark beneath your jaw as you lay back into the seat. His hand slip up your shirt, palms lighting a warm path against your skin.

You roll up off of the seat, tits pressing into his chest. Lighter rolls your shirt up, separating from your neck briefly to fling your shirt outside of the car. His body covers your again, pressing you back to the seat. His scent, earthy and mouthwatering, infused with a tinge of oil and sweat, blankets you as he noses against the hollow of your throat.

You flip open the center console, searching sightlessly for a condom. Lighter works your bra off to paw at your tits, taking a moment to appreciate the weight in his palm before he latches on and sucks. His teeth scrape against your hardened nipple and you keen, back arching, pressing his face deeper into your breasts.

"Fuck - relax. Milk's not gonna come out," you grumble, free hand fisting tightly in his hair.

Lighter moans. He pops off one tit, dropping a sloppy kiss to the valley between your breasts. His knee slides up firmly against your pussy, grinding against you until you catch onto his rhythm and do it yourself. He's got that smug look on his face when he licks up your other, neglected breast, tongue lapping at your skin but lips never sealing around you.

You tug at his hair. Another moan, louder, more whiny. Your clit pulses against the seam of your jeans, and he finally commits to sucking your tits again.

Christ, you've got to find that fucking condom.

You sift through old receipts and miscellaneous bits and bobs blindly, struggling to find that elusive, crinkly little square. Lighter's hands slide down your sides, squeezing the dough of your hips tightly. He flicks the button of your jeans open, drawing his leg back to wiggle your pants halfway down your thighs. He palms your cunt through your panties and whines again, tremulous and pitiful.

"I'm so damn hard," Lighter groans. He drops his forehead against your collar bone, warm breath puffing against your skin. A searing heat blooms in your belly.

“Do you have a condom?” You blurt out. You can’t keep fumbling around like this - you need him now.

Lighter’s hand squeezes you, middle finger trailing against your clothed slit. He keeps one hand stroking your pussy while the other reaches behind him, patting the pockets of his jeans. He swears under his breath. His finger taps just over your clit - using your pussy like a damn fidget.

“I’ll pull out.” That’s his genius solution.

You should say no. You should offer to blow him, or let him fuck your tits, or anything other than the tried and true pull out method, but Lighter dips his fingers beneath your panties, presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and rolls. Sparks ignite in your veins. His finger teases your entrance. He only has to press gently into your before your greedy cunt tries to pull him deeper.

You grit your teeth. The promise of more makes you whine. Fingers won’t be enough. He could take his time finger fucking you open until he could fist you and it still wouldn’t be enough. You need his cock and you need it now.

“Okay,” you breathe out, face warming. You shouldn’t be agreeing to this. Even Lighter seems surprised. He picks his head up from your chest to meet your eyes, brows arched. You melt under his watch, body puddling against the seat. You roll your hips. His thumb stays steady against your clit, lets you roll yourself against his hand.

If he wants to ask if you’re sure, he loses the will when you squeeze around his finger.

He’s got more patience than you. Lighter presses kisses along your jaw, murmuring “okay,” as he slips down your body. He nips at your neck while his finger strokes through your soaked cunt. You try to spread you legs wider, to accommodate the fit of his hips, but your knees are trapped by your jeans, still hanging on for dear life.

You kick your foot and whine, your pants flapping comically. Lighter laughs. He struggles to pull them down further with just one hand.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, shifting awkwardly in the cramped back seat. His chest presses against yours, pinning you down with his weight. In the tight space, it’s impossible to escape his scent, his warmth, the hand toying with your pussy instead of shucking your pants off, winding you up.

You squirm beneath him, barely able to move. His laugh pools from his chest and into your.

“So fun to play with.” His voice is a rumble next to your ear. Your body tenses, skin feeling tight, flushed, stretched thin in anticipation.

“Hurry up,” you whine, jolting your hips up against his. He sucks a breath through his teeth.

It’s a heated blur. His hand withdraws from your pussy. He struggles with his belt long enough for you to wedge a hand between your bodies and try to help. It's finally open, his zipper barely down before you're shoving your hand into his pants to palm him.

He pushes your wrist away gently to pull himself free. The thought of taking him into your mouth makes drool pool in your mouth. You swallows thickly, swollen lips pouting. Eyes on the prize.

“Whatcha want?” Lighter leans back, his back hunched awkwardly in the small space of the back seat. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes fixed on your cunt.

“I want you shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

He taps the head of his dick against your clit, eyes lingering on the way he bounces it off your body, the way your thighs tense. Your struggle to stay still is plain as day in close quarters. Lighter grips the base of his thick cock. He slides himself through your folds, glistening tip nudging against your clit, each pass making you clench around nothing.

“Please,” you whine, smacking your head back against the seat. Your hands grip his biceps, nails biting into his skin.

He doesn't give you a chance to beg again. The fat head of his cock glides snugly into your pussy, the first inch frictionless and squelching. His fat cock catches, the stretch enough to make your breath sutter. Lighter plants a hand by your head, fingers dimpling the cushion. He pulls out, fucking himself deeper.

His forehead drops against your breast, chest near heaving. Lighter's hips stutter - barely restraining the desire to pound you into the carseat.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He grinds into you, thick cock dragging against your walls, each roll of his hips sucking him in deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your stomach.

Your voice is caught in your throat, toes curling, knees pressing in, pussy trying to lock him in. You squeeze around him again and again, pulsing. Lighter bottoms out with one last, powerful roll of his hips, his restraint slipping, shuffling you up against the seats. Your cry out, pushing him back only to tug him closer, his face suffocated in your tits.

His hand slips down your spine, finding the small of your back. He angles your hips up, cock battering perfectly against a spot that has you crying out at each thrust, nails streaking red line against his biceps.

"Shit— shit," he pants, face buried into the junction of your neck, hips pinning you to the seat.

Lighter’s hips rabbit into you, fucking you hard and quick, lost in the feel of your gummy walls.

“Never going back to fucking condoms,” Lighter puffs out. Every thrust presses him against your clit. Tears prick at your eyes. Your mind blanks. You babble something incoherent in response. Your hand wedges between your body, rubbing frantically against your clit. “Feels so good. Not gonna last– fuck!”

Your dripping pussy has him in a vice grip, spasming as his hips drive into you again, again, again. Stars explode behind your eyes, fingertips clenching, chest too tight. His hips pin your hand against your clit. He doesn't draw back fully again, drags his fat cock hard and languid against the same spot over and over until all that tension unspools and the warmth spills over into your veins, onto his cock, coating your seats.

Lighter fucks you through it, voice pitching higher as his thrusts get sloppier, more desperate. He grumbles promises into your skin – gonna buy your birth control, baby, don't make me squeeze into a condom again, you feel too fucking good, holy shit, fuck, cumming—

You're already half-way to bonelessness, riding out the current of pleasure churns in you, when he floods your pussy with his cum. Spurt after spurt of his thick seed splatters against your walls. Your stomach flutters, eyes glazed.

Lighter's hips pump and sputter, staggered and stuttering, fucking his cum deeper into you. He leans his weight against you fully, muscled body pressing the breath from you. You don't know how you could be closer than this but you crave it, crave him, need more, need this to be unending.

Gradually, his hips slow. He comes down from his high, the whine in his voice pitching back to gravel. His cheek rests against your shoulder, hands flexing against your skin. You pet his hair idly, eyes shut, soaking in the bliss and the closeness.

His cock softens in your puffy walls, but his muscles tense with a sudden realization.

“Shit– I'm sorry,” he says in a rush, picking his head up to look at you. You only hum, confused, barely cracking an eye open. “I– inside. I didn't mean to–”

Oh. Ohh, fuck.

You swear quietly beneath your breath. Your teeth catch your lip, worrying it for a moment – but as fucked out as you are, brain still melted, it's difficult to muster panic.

You stroke his hair firmer, trying to urge him to lay back against you. His strength is evident in that moment when he resists your pull. The restraint in his touch is clear - and the threat of his strength has your aching clit twinging painfully. You were going to have to unpack that later.

“Lighter - it's fine,” you say. “I'll go to town later.”

“I'll drive you.” His tone brooks no argument. He pulls himself away from you, and the cold prickles against your flushed skin. You can't help but feel lost when he pulls himself out of you, pussy throbbing for the stretch of his cock - missing him already.

He tucks himself into his pants again, not bothering to zip back up. He bends, the curve of his tight ass on display. You sigh dreamily - nearly forget to react when he tosses you your discarded shirt back.

Lighter holds up a finger, chest still heaving and flushed, fluffy hair matted to his forehead with swear. He disappears from view, rattling around in your garage out of sight, before he comes back with a rag in hand.

"We should do this in a bed," you say, accepting the rag Lighter passes you. You inspect it carefully. No oil, no dirt - good enough for you.

"I think I can get a truck for an evening."

"What? No," You laugh. "Like a bed bed. With pillows, and blankets."

Lighter keeps his back turned to you, arms pausing mid-stretch. He rolls his shoulder, fluffs his hair - takes his sweet time turning back to face you.

Your stomach churns. Fuck. That was too much too quick. Sure, he just came inside you, but you were going to scare him off like this. He wasn't going to help you air up your tires ever again, much less fuck you–

"I can put pillows and blankets in a truck bed," he points out.

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “I guess that's better than nothing.”

Lighter's lips quirk into a smile. He ducks back into the car, tapping your hip. You scoot back to make room for him. He lifts his arm, expecting you to curl up against his side.

“I'll drive you out for the sunset.”

“The sunset?” You repeat skeptically. You hadn't expected something so… sweet.

Lighter shrugs you closer. He tugs at a lock of your hair, teasing.

“Or for stargazing,” he counters, a hint of desperation sneaking in, cracking past his suave performance. “Whichever.”

You study him for a moment. He feels so unguarded in this moment, without the vestiges of the champion. He's just Lighter in this moment - just the man who fucked your brains out in the back of your car, who was at your beck and call for every stupid excuse you could conjure up just to see him.

“Both,” you decide. You nestle your cheek against his shoulder, eyes slipping shut. “If we stay long enough, we can do both.”

A guaranteed, precious few hours with him all to yourself. Your stomach squirms. You blame it on the feeling of his cum slipping out of you, pretend that your affection isn't burning you up from the inside.

Lighter shifts to kiss he crown of your head. His hand trails a lazy path against your arm, fingers warm, comfortable against your skin, his touch so different from the way he had pressed against you moments before.

One of these days you were going to get this man into a proper goddamn bed, but you'd settle for malapropisms until the time came.

#HOT #holy fuuuuuuuuck #lighter smut #zzz smut

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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🫣

pornstar!satoru and pornstar!suguru managing to talk you into letting them both fuck you at the same time on film—a double penetration scene.

apparently, after a few... lewd images of the three of you together were leaked by a blue-eyed attention whore who swears he didn't mean to edit, upload and caption them before posting them on his main twitter, your combined audiences have started begging for video content of the three of you. and what better than a filthy threesome to spark the flame of your three-way-affairs?

it's how you end up riding suguru, feeling his cock so deep inside of you that you swear he's in your stomach. your hands find purchase on his muscled pecs as you ride him to the brink of orgasm; sweat coats your skin, his too, and as it is with suguru, your moans aren't played up for the sake of porn: they're raw and real and so loud as he encourages your sounds with a finger circling over your clit.

those at home watching the pair of you, only one hand free as they stroke or finger or rub themselves in time with each thrust of Suguru's hips up into you, are all met with the sight of satoru walking into frame. cock hard and big and at attention as he climbs onto the bed behind you and takes a few moments to kiss at your neck, reach around and play with your bouncing tits.

how he teases you with his words, whispers them into you ear with full knowledge that the cameras microphone wont pick up on his words. there's no production crew this time around, no directors forcing a position or calling for breaks and ruining the building tension in your already coiled stomach.

"gonna fuck this pretty ass so deep, see if i can feel sugu through you hm? you want that?"

and his word already have you on edge, all you think you can manage is a moan of approval and the slightest nod of your head, but satoru grabs your chin and guides your gaze to the camera. "say you want it, say you want me."

"i—fuck—i want you, toru. want you to fuck my ass while i ride suguru."

the domesticity, the sweet nicknames you wouldn't have said on film if you were half as aware of the world around you—it's a lot for poor satoru to handle, what with how hard his cock is, how it's already leaking so much precum onto the sheets beneath you. he can barely still your hips for long enough to work himself into your ass, and the stretch of him is enough to push you forward and on top of suguru.

you're given a moment to adjust, a full minute of stillness to catch your breath and acclimate to the overwhelming fullness you feel—the weird way you feel whole, and the inevitable loss you'll feel once this is over. the moment is also given to stop the poor boys from cumming all too quickly. suguru can feel satoru pulsing inside of you, and satoru swears he can feel suguru's cock twitch. you squeeze around the both of them, test their resolve with a simple roll of the hips, and then choke on your spit when they both start thrusting in tandem with each other. hard and fast and mean and all at once.

it's blinding, the pleasure you feel all of a sudden.

suguru is strong and domineering with his hands on your hips and his cock nestled deep in your pussy—he thrusts his hips up, matches satoru's unkind pace in such a way you're sure you'll be unable to walk the next way. gorgeous praise slips from his lips as you hold eye contact with him—you're surely a mess, fucked stupid by two men at once.

satoru is eager and manic in the way he takes your ass. his hands perched on suguru's thighs as he ruts into you over and over in chase of a climax he knows is going to be unearthly. he'd praise you if he could, but all that spills from his mouth are incoherent babbles of pleasure that would make anyone listening think that he's the one being impaled on his almost too-large cock.

they work so well together—your pleasure seems to be the one thing they consistently agree on. you don't even have the mind to worry about the video length with how fast you're reaching orgasm, dragging the boys with you as you shake between them, wracked with pleasure so overwhelming you're nearly in tears.

it's a clip that gets shared on every porn site and blog known to man. of you, a fucked out mess between two lust-struck men each cumming inside of you at the exact same time your own orgasm crests.

the clenching of suguru's stomach as he bucks up into you, natural instincts rolling his cock as deep as possible as he empties his balls inside of you.

the way satoru tilits his head back, jaw tight and hair a mess as he forgets how to breathe when he paints the inside of your ass with his cum.

and you, impaled on both cocks at the same time, overstimulated and shaking with the remnants of the strongest orgasm you've had in a long time, and still rolling your hips in hopes of more. another round or three, as long as you stay this full.

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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HOW TO FIND THE TGCF AND MDZS AUDIOBOOKS: 🎧

TGCF is here 🦋

MDZS is here 🐇

These are recordings of the EN novels published by Seven Seas, plus included extras.

PLEASE share the link around with anyone and everyone who may enjoy!! ♥️ You have full permission! (The only thing you cannot do is host the audio files publicly.)

About 300 hours worth of work went into the TGCF audiobook during the 4 months it took to record it. That amounts to 2.5 hours per day, and I worked every. single. day.

Projecting MDZS to be about 130 hours in total, maybe a few more?

These totals do NOT include listening back to each chapter to check for mistakes/edits -

(I work that in during my regular day job haha)

This project is my heartfelt gift to those who need a little more accessibility to enjoy such lovely stories. Everyone deserves the joy of the Hualian and Wangxian experience! I am truly lucky to have the opportunity to make and share this with you all. ♥️♥️ CHEERS!! xx

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

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THAT BOY IS MINE .ᐟ I CAN'T WAIT TO TRY HIM .ᐟ

*+:｡.｡ SUMMARY. yuuta's the shy, unassuming guy in your media and ethics class, the kind of moral and upstanding guy who's never seen the real world before up until coming to college. of course, he latches on to you and your drastically different world. wc: 5.3k

contents. 18+ mdni, yuuta okkotsu x female!reader, smut, porn with a dash of plot, overstimulation, body worship, oral fixation, a lil bit of a corruption kink, edging, unprotected sex, virginity loss (yuuta), praise kink, pet names, hair pulling, reader being a lil unfair, drunk sex

When Yuuta comes, it’s a sight to behold.

His eyes screwed shut, desperate and mindless pleas tumbling off the edge of his lips like a waterfall, begging for release. He can’t help but rock his hips faster into yours, a pace that sends you off to your third orgasm of the night, but you can’t linger on that for too long when Yuuta falls apart like it’s a revelation. Like he loses himself in the sensation of it all, all strangled gasps and whimpers as you praise him through it, giving him something tangible and steady to hold on to.

God, he gets so desperate, drunk off your pussy and doesn’t stop rutting into yours even though the aftershocks of his orgasm send tremors down his spine, completely and utterly spent but unwilling to give up on the high, and you feel so unbelievably warm.

"Can you give me another one, baby? Please?" Your hand's already snaking back down to his swollen, aching cock, a mischievous lilt to your voice. 'Cause you already know what he wants.

You can hardly believe that you only took his virginity just a couple hours ago.

Yuuta has that baby deer lost in the woods look to him, the kind of moral, upstanding guy that seems to have been sheltered all the way up until college. You remember the first time you saw him, you accidentally mistook him as part of one of the college tour groups, raising a brow when he nervously asked you where the lecture hall for the media and ethics course was.

"I'm so, so sorry, I just—ihavenoideawherei'mgoing—and… and this professor has a ⅕ rating on ratemyprofessor.com and I'm going to be so screwed, how do I—"

He had shaken his phone with his schedule in front of you then, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you could barely conceal the annoyance on your face. Still, you took pity on his poor soul, looking like he was on the brink of bursting into tears. "Yeah, fine, fine, just stop waving your phone in my face. Dude, how did you even get on this side of campus—god, you're hopeless, just follow me."

When Yuuta hesitates to follow you, already three feet away, you turn around with an exasperated look. "You comin' or what?"

"Y–Yes ma'am!" He's stumbling over his words again, embarrassed with the fact that he called you ma'am, thinks that you're definitely going to abandon him there and then, but to his and your surprise, you don't. You merely huff, motioning for him to keep following you. "I mean… sorry, yes, I'm right behind you!"

It's no wonder you walk with such purpose and intent. Wherever you went on campus, people naturally tend to carve out a path for you. It's an observation that does not go unnoticed by him, surprised at the easy way in which students on campus held a quiet respect for you. He thinks can understand why—he believes you're stunning in a way that's almost unfair, sharp eyes appraising him and elevating his heart rate with just a few words.

Can't focus on much else but stare at the way your hips sway from side to side as you march confidently through campus like it's a playground.

Yuuta would find out much, much later that he might've just accidentally fallen onto the devil's lap.

You look over your shoulder to check that he's still following you and you almost burst out chortling at the way he looks, giving you the world's largest puppy dog eyes and hanging on to your every step. He's taller than you, yet his pace barely matches yours. "You sure you're a college student?"

"Y–Yes! Of course!" His words come out quicker than expected, a little bit too defensive. He rubs his neck sheepishly. "I just transferred."

You hum, a small sign of acknowledgement, weaving past a large group of students also hustling to their next class. "So you got a name or what, transfer?"

"Yuuta! Yuuta Okkotsu. And yours?"

You tell him your name, and Yuuta makes a mental note and locks it away for later. He rolls the letters over in his mind until it's permanently engraved into his memory. It's pleasant, it's sweet, and it's you. God, he can't believe he's only just met you and he's already this down bad, like a puppy nipping at its owner's heels, desperate for any crumb of recognition. He seriously needs to pull himself together…

The walk around campus is pleasant enough, if not a bit quiet, as Yuuta struggles to maintain small talk and you struggle to really find a will to care, your steps hurrying just slightly as you glance at the time. You were already running slightly late, and then you picked up the stray rushing behind you.

"Well, here we are. Media and Ethics with Professor Yaga," When you finally arrive at the lecture hall, you whip around to face him, only to find his eyes trained to your ass. Yuuta almost instantly gets flushed, stumbling over his words in an attempt to explain himself. You can vaguely hear him trying to say there was just something, a bug, a stain, whatever, but catching Mr. Goody Two Shoes acting pervy is kind of entertaining. Huh, you wouldn't have expected that.

Instead of humoring his little excuses as to why he was staring at your ass, you merely wave him off with a small smile. "Okay, weirdo. Just do me a favor and try not to get lost again, yeah?"

"Right! I'll try…" You're already walking away and heading off to your seat before he can finish his sentence. "Not to get lost again."

Gingerly, he finds a spot cramped in between two friends who glare at him as he sits down and he winces, mumbling soft apologies. You're a few rows down, chuckling and goofing around with who he assumes are your friends, a boy with platinum blonde hair and a girl with a blunt, black bob. You settle into a comfortable banter with them, and for a moment, Yuuta appreciates you at your most natural state, all smiles and unfiltered laughter. He can see the column of your throat as you laugh unabashedly, and instinctively, he licks his lips, dry and parched so suddenly.

As if you can feel the weight of his stare, you flip around in your seat to meet his tired, dark blue eyes. Your brow raises and a side of your lips curl, as if challenging him.

If he was any other guy, a better guy, maybe someone who was more sure of himself, he would've risen to the occasion, meeting your eyes with just as much intensity. The kind of guy who meets you head on, who would have confidently asked for your number earlier, and maybe even a date.

But alas, he was only Yuuta Okkotsu, and Yuuta Okkotsu is unfortunately the kind of guy who goes red from head to toe and buries himself back into the crook of his textbook at the notion of being caught staring so openly. He gets too caught up in his own mind to notice the cheshire-like grin that creeps onto your face, turning back to face the board with something akin to trouble written all over your face.

Maki turns around to glance back at what you were looking at earlier, and sees nothing but an unimpressive ball of white fabric and dark black hair trying desperately to avoid eye contact with your row. She snorts, and you roll your eyes. "Looks like you got a new admirer again."

"Hm, something like that," You think about his wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights, and it's decided. "Call it my new project."

And you suppose that's where your little cat and mouse game began.

You quickly discover that yours and Yuuta's schedules conveniently align. He's rushing through the doors of your next class almost every time, perpetually late and flustered and embarrassed about barging into whatever classroom or hall and garnering dozens of speculative eyes. And every time, he meets yours somewhere in the crowd, but never fully returns it, just rushes down to a seat and pushes his head down.

Such a shame. He's a pretty boy, and you like the way he goes pink all over.

Sometimes when lectures get a little too dull, you allow your mind to wander, thinking about how overwhelmed and discomposed Yuuta could become if you just sank down to your knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull those pants down, give him a little kiss here and there, then leave a hot, wet stripe down the length of him, watch as those hands, those surprisingly strong and veiny hands try to push you down entirely. How delicious he would taste—

This time, it's him who catches you staring, but your mother did not raise a coward. You stare back more openly, bottom lip catching between your teeth and gaze darkening. Just the slightest bit of reactions sends him spiraling, and you delight in the way he seems to get just a little bit lost, his lips parting slightly and leaning in slightly, wanting to close the distance between you despite being several feet apart.

That's when you break your little staring contest with him, facing back towards the board with barely concealed satisfaction. It's like Yuuta just had a bucket of ice cold water splashed on him then, blinking rapidly and forcing himself to concentrate once again as if nothing ever happened.

After class, you see him fiddling with his waistband at the corner of the hallway, and you crack up.

You know that you're just being so mean, at this point, but when Yuuta hears you, all dazed and feverish, it's worth it. So you get a little bit more bold, a little bit more open with your game.

Forgoing leggings and sweatpants for jeans and tight, little skirts, shorts that hike up a little bit too far and shows off the expanse of your soft belly when you reach over and hand Inumaki a pencil or a pen, tank tops that should, quite frankly, be outlawed in your city, exposing soft skin and your plush chest. You keep your distance, however, never quite allowing him the satisfaction of going past a few words with you or polite interactions.

Yuuta's a gentleman, even if his eyes betrays his actions. Taking only what you give him, opening doors for you when he sees you coming down the hallway, obeying so sweetly when you ask him to throw your trash away for you, the only times he can drink your full figure in and capture your full attention.

He's different, you realize, from other people you've previously fooled around with. You can see how much he's trying so hard to remain composed, never letting his eyes linger for too long, never once touching you. Other guys would've broken by now, but not your Yuuta. He's a good boy.

You make your move one Friday after lecture, and it's a familiar dance you and him have come to recognize. Yuuta's already at the door waiting to push it open for you and you beam, positively radiant, lips wrapped around a cherry red lollipop. There's a light smack! as you pull it away from your mouth, tongue peeking out just slightly to cherish the taste.

As always, he's watching intently, as if committing the sight to memory. You absolutely love the idea, of Yuuta making himself cum over and over again at mere thoughts of you.

To be quite honest, you've spent hours pondering if he's the type to torture himself through it, pulling away just when he's about to finish, chest heaving and panting with need before letting himself cum after a long session, or if he would rather push himself through orgasm after orgasm until he's shedding tears, begging for no one but himself to stop.

"Say, Yuuta, you got any plans for tonight?" The question is anything but innocent, and there's that pink glow that radiates from him once again, surprised at just how open you are. "Don't get any silly ideas. I'm throwing a little party tonight."

You let your tongue swipe across the shimmering head of the lollipop, delighting in the way his Adam's Apple bobs. "You should come."

For a moment, Yuuta doesn't say anything until he realizes he's just been standing there, staring at you slack-jawed. "O–Oh! Yeah, for sure, I can go! Uh… where is it? And when?" Instead of responding to his questions, you grin excitedly, like a shark who's just successfully lured its prey into the belly of the beast. "Perfect! I'll text you the details. See ya later, Yuuta!"

He nods furiously, flabbergasted more than anything, until he realizes he's never given you his number before. "W–Wait! But my number—" Too late, you were already off to your next destination. "I never… gave it to you…?"

His phone buzzes suddenly, startling him and amassing a few stares from passersby. Sure enough, there's an address, a time, and a winky face emoji from you that makes him rub his eyes to make sure that what he was seeing was right. Fuck. If the address was right, he was definitely going to get lost. He still has no idea where left and right were on campus.

Another buzz on his phone with detailed instructions on how to get to your place. Just in case. No excuses, Yuuta, you typed.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

But sure enough, he arrives at the designated place and time (not that you ever had any actual, real doubt that he would show, absolutely not), and is met with a house party at full steam, smoke radiating from some of the windows and a few people alternating through rounds of beer pong. There's some heavy R&B blasting from the basement that thrums through his spine as he tries to navigate his way through the crowd, searching for the illustrious host.

Just when he's about to give up hope, he finds you on a worn leather couch in a room off to the side of the house, surrounded by a haze of smoke and purple neon lights, looking so dangerous and gorgeous that it forces the ability to vocalize his thoughts right out of him. At the same time, you spot him, and it's silence between you two for a second.

You smirk, and his heart skips several beats.

With one pretty manicured finger, you're gesturing him to the spot next to you. Wordlessly and hopelessly, he follows.

"You made it," He falls down next to you with a plop, sinking down on the leather and sitting so nicely, hands properly situated in his lap. He turns to look at you with a sheepish nod and you laugh, because you don't know what else you should've expected. It's the closest that you've ever been to him, and it's like he's already going into overdrive. "Did you get lost on the way or did you find me okay?"

"It's quite a party," Yuuta's distracted by your shimmering stockings, adorned with glitter and tiny little rhinestones. He normally loves when you're all exposed for him, bare legs crossed during lecture, but he thinks he likes this a lot more. "Your directions were super helpful," he murmurs.

"What ever would you do without me, hm?" You're suddenly so close, he can feel your breaths mingling in the air, and you're looking at him with those dark, dark eyes like you want to devour him. For a split second, your gaze flicks down to where his heart is pounding so loudly in his jugular, and there's another sharp spike between his legs.

It's honestly so unfair, this effect you have on him. Barely even a minute, and you've got him panting at your feet like a dog.

He inhales and chuckles shakily. "I don't know," I don't want to know. Don't think I can ever stand a day without seeing you, without hearing you, God, please I just want you so bad—He allows himself to be bold, to see if what he's feeling is true, impossibly long lashes drifting to the floor as he lets his next words escape him quietly. "Let's hope I don't find out."

"Hope not," Your smile's all pearly teeth and he can see your canines glinting even in the low lights. The party really gets in full swing all around you, and he can vaguely hear the shallow whoops and screams of his cohort having the time of their lives. "Say, Yuuta, you wanna have some fun?"

It's a blur of bodies and pounding music from that point on, the only times when he really feels lucid is when you're holding onto his hand, taking him from one part of the party to the next with that same, sly smile like you're taking him down the rabbit hole. He doesn't drink that much, intoxicated off of your presence alone, and it's addicting. The rush gets to his head and you convince him to play a round of beer pong with you, relishing in the way you embrace him after he sinks a ball into one of the cups and feeling the shape of your breasts against his chest, hot and sweaty, and he just wants to taste you, wants to lick up your shoulder up to your jaw and wrench beautiful noises out of your pouty lips.

It's a silly, stupid game, shooting balls into cups, but when he wins the game for the two of you, you're looking at him so ecstatically, overjoyed and nearly falling into his lap. "Yuuta, Yuuta, baby, holy shit—didn't think you had it in you. Good job!"

Your praises set something on fire inside him. "I can win another," His voice is hoarse, pleading, and he knows he can win another. "Watch me."

All night, he's glued to your side, fetching drinks for you, holding your purse, winning more and more games just to see you happy, just to hear you praise him a little bit more, harmless words that you don't even know carry so much weight for him.

It's almost 4 AM when the party really starts to wind down, and that buzz of alcohol's just starting to really get you flushed, and you motion to your friends to wrap it up, to get going. But not Yuuta.

Yuuta helps you up the stairs and into your room, and he takes a moment to soak it all in, your room and all of its treasures. It's filled to the brim with mementos, photos, and clutter that's been specifically tailored for your taste, and his head's swimming, overwhelmed from being wrapped up in you. "Yuuta?" Your voice is soft and inviting, looking back at his form by the door as you fiddle with the zipper of your dress. You know you can reach it by yourself, but the tension you've felt all night goes taut, string suspended after months of pushing and pulling, and it makes you bolde, more confident. "Wanna help me?"

"S–Sure, yeah," He murmurs, never quite fully meeting your eyes. His hands work diligently, undoing the zipper, and watching as it descends to your lower back, exposing your spine. "There… there you go."

"Thank you," To his surprise, you shuck the whole fabric entirely, leaving you exposed in just your underwear. His eyes widen, trying to avert his eyes from your figure, but you reach for his hands, willing them to stay at his sides. "It's okay, Yuuta. You can take a look."

Yuuta surges forward in an instant. It starts as a chaste, innocent kiss, fast and spurred by the rush of alcohol and desire in your veins, and in a mere second he's pulling away. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me—"

But you're even faster, pulling him back in by his waist and kissing him deeper, with more ferocity. When you lets him up for air, you see just how much he needs you, how much he wants it, and you sober up rapidly, pushing him up aggressively against the bathroom wall and making him give in.

You may be a little too aggressive, but you can't find it in you to care, when Yuuta's squirming against you, unabashed hands sneaking to grab at the globes of your ass and press himself closer to you. You nip and nibble at his lips, tongue swiping over to soften the blow as your Yuuta slowly loses his mind.

When he gasps, you're probing your tongue into his mouth, hot and filthy, drawing moans out of him when you suck on his bottom lip, exploring him for all his worth. You kiss like you're parched and he's your oasis, unrelenting and unforgiving with the way you wrench him even closer by his hair, and he moans, a depraved and nasty sound that only serves to satisfy you further.

The wall's nice, but your bed's even nicer, grabbing him and forcing him down on the downy mattress to climb up on his lap, rocking into his hardness and dragging your clothed pussy over the rough material of his jeans, never leaving his grasp only to mutter praises you know he likes. "Mmmmm, Yuuta, you're so—"

You gasp when he pulls you down even further, his hips involuntarily griiiinding you down in a way that sends shivers down your spine. "Don't stop. More, more, more." And who were you to refuse your baby?

Yuuta's so needy and demanding, and his actions are sometimes rapid and unrefined, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm, in disbelief that he's finally got you in this position. You also find out that he's eager to leave marks all over your pristine skin, sucking marks that will surely bloom purple on your collarbone and the highest peaks of your breasts. He's running on instinct, you realize.

He paws at your underwear, desperate to get the flimsy fabric off as you giggle and finally shuck them off your legs. "Slow down, Yuuta!" But he can't pay any mind to that, 'cause in seconds, he's mouthing at your sweet, sweet cunt, until his jaw's drenched, mindlessly flicking his tongue back and forth, finally getting the taste of you imprinted onto his tongue, his body, his mind.

"Such a pretty baby," You coo, a hand coming down to grab at his hair and press him closer to your cunt, sighing delightfully when his nose brushes your pubic bone and his tongue slides up and down, up and down, setting a pace that makes you rock against his face. "So good for me, baby, so sweet. Always takin' care 'f me."

Diligent, obedient, wrapped in the palm of your hand as he eats you out like you're his last meal, and you swear you see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "God, you taste so good, holy shit—" obscene, graphic words that you would've never imagined Yuuta saying.

Your back arches when he forces you to grind even closer down the bottom of his face, thighs wrapped securely around his head and nails scratching at your ass, intensifying the feeling of falling down this slippery slope with him. There's lewd sounds all around you and it's all you can hear, eyes closed shut as you soak the bedsheets underneath you.

Yuuta's tongue scrapes against your clit and you jolt, helpless whines tumbling out as he takes note, wraps his lips around the bundle of muscles and sucks, harshly and unforgivingly. There's stars behind your eyes, and you're gripping onto the sheets, waiting for that string to snap and it does—cursing and mouth parting in a silent scream.

It takes a second for you to become lucid again, but you come back to awareness with Yuuta still licking off your juices, hot tongue lazily cleaning you off so generously and with so much care, a thumb stroking the smooth skin of your thigh, like he didn't just make you ascend to heaven a few minutes before.

He only pulls off of you with a slight push, and he looks up at you like you've just deprived him of oxygen. Yuuta's sprawled over your pink comforters so innocently and you lick your lips, eyeing his jeans with desire. "Mind if I return the favor, Yuuta?"

When he doesn't answer, you ask again. "Yuuta?"

"I'm sorry, I've never—I've never done that before," It's that familiar flush again, painting a brilliant blush onto his cheeks. "Or any of this before, really, um—I got a little… excited, I'm sorry." Oh. Well, that's a first. "But–But give me a second! I can go again, I swear, I promise, it just takes me a little bit of time—" "Yuuta," You reach forward to cup his face, and he slumps onto your touch so easily, inky blue eyes encircled with exhaustion going softer at your touch. Slowly, you drag yourself back onto his lap, excitement rushing through you at the prospect of taking every single one of his firsts. Hell, you'll wait all week if you have to. "I can wait. We've got until sunrise, yeah?"

To pass the time, you strip off the rest of his clothes and lay him down on the bed, content to just lick and nibble at the milky expanse of his neck, captivated by his soft sighs and little whines. Something stirs you to play with his nipples, pinching and squeezing the bud until Yuuta's breathless, begging you to stop and keep going at the same time. "Hm, you like that?"

"Y–Yes! Don't stop," He whimpers when the pad of your finger swipes across the sensitive skin, hips raising to the air. "Don't stop, please, please, I need it, I need—"

"Needy, needy, needy," You tut, but you keep going anyway, and you feel dizzy from the amount of power he's just placed on your hands. "What do you think about putting some clamps on these, huh? Maybe for next time. Think you'd look so pretty, don't you think?"

You lick a soft, velvety stripe up his neck to nibble on the outer lobe of his ear, thrilled with the way he gasps, leaning further into your touch. "Just picture it. Some sparkly little clamps on these, while I jerk you off nice and slow, force you to feel it all. Pulling away just when you reach the edge. Think you might actually lose your mind." Your laugh is piercing, and he gets hard once again at the thought of being completely and utterly at your mercy. "You ready for round two, Yuuta?"

He's at a loss of words, only able to nod uselessly and watch as you climb back on top of him, groaning when he feels to heat of your pussy on top of his cock, ramrod hard again and already leaking pre-cum. He swallows the lump of his throat, unable to tear his eyes away, but he regains his sanity for a moment. "C–Condom?"

"Nah, Yuuta, we don't need it," You giggle, aligning the angry and red, leaking tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it around sloppily to lubricate yourself with his and your juices. You moan quietly at the sensation, trying to regain your composure. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean. Besides, you're a virgin, right?"

"Uh…Uh–huh," Yuuta can't stop looking at where you're almost connected, mesmerized. "You're my first." Your grin gets even wider. He was putty in your hands, he would do anything if you asked him to.

"Hm, 'f you play your cards right, maybe I can be your last," You see the glint of hope in his eyes just before you sink down, delighted with the way his lips fall slightly open, heart beat elevating. The stretch is harder than you expected, groaning lowly as you force yourself to descend fully down until you meet his pelvis, resisting the urge to start bouncing right then and there, not when Yuuta looks fully ready to combust. "Y–You alright? Heh, lookin' a bit pale."

You're a bit nervous, yourself, but you're not gonna admit that and betray this nonchalant image you've curated. When you move even slightly, hips readjusting for your comfort, Yuuta squirms. Patience, patience. You huff. He's big. "Give… give me a second to adjust. I'm—mmmf!"

Yuuta can't help it, he can't stop the way he pounds up into you and causes you to yelp, desperate to feel your velvety walls clench around him. He looks at you with restraint that's very quickly fading. "S–Sorry! nghhh—" He grabs onto your hips, subjecting you to another brutal thrust that wrenches helpless moans from you in turn. "I'm—I need, just let me—"

"I'll be good, promise, swear, fuck, just need to fuck you so bad!"

He's babbling even as he starts fucking up into you with a renewed vigor, the picture of depravity, eyes rolling back as he takes his pleasure for his own. You're on top, and yet he's the one controlling the pace, veiny hands forcing you to meet every single one of his thrusts as if you were nothing more than a doll. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, feels so good!"

Your second orgasm of the night surprises you with a jolt, tongue lolling out and lost in an orgasm-fueled haze, and Yuuta's capturing your mouth with his, tasting you, drinking in your moans and mindless pleas. How the tables have turned, boneless in his lap now, as he keeps murmuring praises for you.

And yet, he doesn't stop. He's insatiable, you realize. You've unlocked a complete fucking monster, a monster that keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

"Ugggh, Yuutaaaaa—" You don't even know what you're begging for at this point, tears involuntarily pulling at the corners of your eyes. It just feels so good. Your previous partners have never made you feel this good, to the point that your toes are cooling and there's a string of drool connecting the two of you together. Yuuta pays you no mind, eyes closed shut as he chases his own high.

His pace grows ragged and uncontrolled, and his voice is hoarse, murmuring wanton pleas that makes you ache with need. Your beautiful, beautiful boy. "Can I cum? Oh please, let me cum, fuck, going to be s'good for you, mmm, 'll fuck you every day, be your last," He moans, low and long, like he can barely contain himself any longer. "Let me cum, please."

"Yes, yes, yes, cum for me, Yuuta, mmf! Mm—let me see you fall apart, cum inside me," Your words are what brings him over the edge, and he's collapsing into your touch, nothing but your name and your pretty face carrying him through.

When he slowly returns to lucidity, it's a familiar sight as he encounters your devilish smile. "Can you give me another one, baby? Please?"

Sunlight's streaming through the window by the time you get through with him, true to your word, fucking him every which way until you've lost track of time. He's so eager to learn, so eager to memorize every way to pleasure you, until he's nothing but a boneless heap on your bed, reduced to soft moans and whimpers.

The air's thick with sex and your sheets are soaked, but it doesn't matter, not when the prettiest boy in the world's panting and heaving, in a daze after cumming over and over and over. It fills you with a sweet sense of satisfaction, and you're not even close to being done.

You'll take care of him for now, wash off the musky headiness of sex and all your juices, press innocent kisses on all the marks you've left, shower him with praise and comforting words, let him rest for a bit, but it's only Saturday.

By the time you're done with him, you'll truly be the only thing left on his mind.

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scaredpigeons · 2 months ago

Text

Strongest Sorcerer Virgin

Includes: established relationship, Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (pls use protection!!), Gojo is cocky until he actually has to do it (lolll), kissing, pet names (baby, princess, babycakes), praise (always), creampie I suppose, mentions of satosugu?? (His first kiss), overstimulation (only two orgasms)

Word Count: 1,421

Masterlist

A/n: I have been thinking about virgin gojo for months. It's not funny. I’m so obsessed with him. The voices said “write Satoru Gojo as a virgin” and I will indeed listen.

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

You didn’t know when you started dating him, but Satoru Gojo is a virgin. Absolutely no experience, despite his claims.

Oh, according to him, he’s made every girl he’s dated cum at least ten times before putting it in. Little do you know, you’re his first girlfriend. And unfortunately for him, you’re about to find out he’s still a virgin.

He got off easy with convincing you he could kiss fine, having jokingly practiced with Suguru in the past. But he didn’t want to get that far with his best friend, that’s embarrassing!

You’re making out on his couch, the soft pillows sinking under your combined weight, sappy romance movie forgotten in the background. Your hands move to push his sunglasses off his face and he holds your cheeks. You laugh into the kiss when his hips press against yours and you feel just how hard he has become.

“Is tonight finally the night we fuck, Satoru?” You tease and kiss his nose.

“Wanna see what I’m all about, princess?” He chuckles, cocky til’ the end.

“Mhmm, show me that talented dick you claim to have, Satoru.”

His smirk falters. It’s barely noticeable, but you still notice.

“Satoru? Are you okay?”

“Pshhh, whatttt? Of course I am!” There’s that lying voice.

“Satoru…” You have that warning tone to tell the truth.

“What, babycakes? I’m fiiiine.”

“Gojo.” Now he’s done it. He gulps as you refer to him with his last name

“…Okay, okayyy, I miiight’ve lied…”

“About…?”

“I, uhhh, I’ve neverhadsex.” He mumbles super fast.

“What?”

“I’m a virgin! Okay?! I said it!” He pouts and looks away in embarrassment. You almost want to laugh.

“…say something?” He mumbles shyly.

You do laugh. The strongest sorcerer, the most talented man in the world, is a virgin?! That’s absurd! It’s insane! You can’t help but laugh.

“Heyyy, stop laughing!” He whines, face red from embarrassment.

“Sorry! Sorry! I just can't help it! It’s crazy that you were so confident! I never knew!” You giggle. “Don’t be embarrassed, Satoru, I can help you out!”

“That’s even more embarrassing…”

“Oh, come onnnn, it’s just me! I’d be honored to pop the strongest sorcerer’s cherry.” You giggle at your own words and he keeps pouting.

“You’re so mean. And don’t say it like that!”

“Please?”

“…Fine, but only because you caused this problem.”

You look at his bulging pants and grin. “Mkay!”

His porcelain skin is so warm. The two of you had moved to his room and he’s on his back, your plush thighs straddling his lap. You’re both nude and he’s staring up at your body as if it’s sculpted by those sculptors that worshiped the gods. Hands rubbing your thighs nervously as you kiss down his body, stopping at his happy trail.

“You ready?”

“…mhm.” He swallows hard as you kiss his tip.

His body jolts, nails lightly digging small crescent shapes into your thighs. You grin and kiss down his shaft, lightly licking his balls before taking him down your throat.

He gasps from the sudden warmth and bucks his hips. “Shit, that feels good, so much better than I imagined…”

His whimpers fill the air as you fondle his balls and bob your head. You swirl your tongue around his shaft and pull back when you feel his cock throb in your throat and lightly blow on the tip, the cool air making him jolt.

“Fuck, you’re really edging me, princess?” He whines and rubs your hips.

“Come on, can’t have you blow your load so soon.” You giggle.

“I’m not blowing my load…” he mumbles shyly.

“Mhm, sure. Now, since it’s your first time, do you want to do it all or do you want me to just ride?”

His face is beet red. “Wh- I- uh- I can do it myself!!”

You can’t help but giggle. You lay on your back and spread your legs, showcasing just how aroused you are. He rubs your thighs gently and looks into your eyes for approval. You nod and guide his hips.

“Move your hips and slip it in.”

It takes him a while to actually react, shy from your bluntness. He shifts over you, lining his hips up with your body and looking at you for reassurance.

“Like this…?”

“Yep, you can go slowly or quickly, but push in.”

Satoru swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He slowly presses himself into you, gasping at the warmth, better than your mouth. His hands grip the sheets on either side of your head, struggling to keep from busting right away.

“I-is this okay so far…?”

You smile. “Just like that, you’re no longer a virgin.”

He lets out a huff of air, laughing slightly at your words. He swallows again, unsure of what to do. You intertwine your fingers with his.

“Move, set your own pace. I’ll let you know if it’s not enough or too much.” You speak gently, encouraging him.

He swallows again and nods, slowly drawing his hips back and hissing at the way you squeeze him.

“So tight, you feel so good, baby… Does this feel good?”

You nod when he thrusts slowly back in, gradually building up in tempo and in turn moving deeper. He hits particularly deep into you and his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Right there! Do that again!” You gasp and hold his hands tighter.

He looks at you with wide blue eyes, pupils blown as he moves harder, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Th-that good? Does it feel good for you too?” He manages to say through gasps and grunts.

“Yes, Satoru, so so good…”

He clearly likes the praise, moving faster and now at a constant pace, hips barely stuttering from how close he really is. He has to see you cum first. He needs it, needs you to feel good because of him.

“Satoru, my clit, rub my clit.” You whine, guiding his hand to the sensitive nub.

“Do I just-”

“Just rub it!” You buck up into him as he keeps his pace and finally moves his hand too.

His calloused thumb rubs circles into your sensitive clit, and he catches how your folds seem to flutter around him. He bites his lip and watches your face contort into the cutest expression.

“C-close, ‘toru, please…”

“…T-tell me what to do…”

“Just keep up like that, please…”

He nods and fights back every urge to cum, not wanting to miss when you reach your orgasm. You finally cum with a cry of his name, gripping him impossibly tighter and he finally releases as well. Spurts of his seed fill into you as he keeps fucking it deeper.

“C-can’t stop, it’s too much, I can’t stop!” He borderline cries into your shoulder as he keeps overstimulating the both of you, refusing to slow down or stop.

His sloppy thrusts won’t relent on your poor weeping cunt, white forming at the base of his shaft. You dig your nails into his hands, holding impossibly tighter at the overwhelming sensation.

“Satoruuuu! Too much! G-gonna cum againnnn!!” You cry out and clench tighter around him.

He moans and gasps in your ear, too out of it to hear your cries, only focusing on how you’re sucking him in and won’t let go. Not that he plans to ever leave. You reach another orgasm and thrash against the sheets at how intense it was, and again, he soon follows, this time stilling his hips as he whines out your name and so many praises.

“Thank you, thank you, baby, feels sooo good, princess, I love you, I love you…”

He collapses onto you and buries into your neck. You slowly come down from the overstimulated high and play with his hair.

“Satoru, get off…”

“Nuh uh.”

“Come on, Satoru, we gotta shower.”

“Tomorrow, we can do it tomorrow. Can’t move, if I pull out, I’ll just make us cum again.”

You giggle a little and let him cuddle into you. “You’re such a big baby, ‘toru.”

After a moment of silence, you speak up again.

“Was your first time good?”

“So good, you have the best pussy in the world, babycakes.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname and kiss his forehead. “Thanks, idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

“Mhm, my idiot.”

You both fall asleep, not a care in the world. As the moonlight shines through his window, the only thing that matters is that he’s with you, and you’re with him. Satoru Gojo is no longer a virgin. All thanks to one gorgeous girl: you.

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