scurfi

[scurfi]

save me seal event, seal event save me

[scurfi]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[scurfi]

HOW HE INITIATES PHYSICAL AFFECTION .ᐟ

✩ — includes: various x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 410. reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !! genshin version.

phainon loves to play with your hair. braiding it as long as he can, playing with it out of boredom, caressing his palm across it—he loves it all. but he loves it even more when you do it to him. there’s just a familiar sense of security whenever phainon could get his hands on your hair and vice versa—it feels like he’s home. 

mydei loves to kiss your knuckles. whenever you’re simply resting with him, his hand is always holding yours, and he’ll never miss the opportunity to plant a soft kiss every now and then. he thinks of it as a promise—an oath of his devotion, if you may—and when you feel yourself succumbing to slumber, you best know that mydei has placed a kiss in every one of your knuckles by then.

aventurine is more of a showy type. he isn’t afraid to wrap an arm around your waist or to rest an arm on your shoulder. hell, even when you’re sitting next to each other, you’ll see one of his arms lazily draped on the back of your chair. it’s a simple reminder really, it shows people that you are his and his only.

anaxagoras is a traditional man; he likes the feeling of your hand in his. he’s not much of a fan of showing affection publicly (not that he’s uncomfortable; he just prefers a lowkey way instead); however, there’s a sense of pride that runs through him whenever you two hold hands in public. with the soft touch of your hands against his calloused ones, anaxa doesn’t forget to gently rub circles in your hand as well.

sunday leans toward being a formal type. nothing too showy, nothing too less either. whenever you’re with sunday in a formal gathering, you could feel his hand on your lower back. either that or he’s just really close to you—the type of distance that would make it obvious that there’s something between you.

dan heng likes to nuzzle himself in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped around you. he indulges himself in such a thing after a long, tiring mission, and he just wants nothing more than to relax with you. 

jing yuan, who absolutely loves tracing patterns on your skin. laying in bed is one of his favorite things to do with you, and when you’re this close to him? he just can’t help it but gently draw shapes or constellations on your skin.

[scurfi]

“satoru,” you yawn, “come back to bed please.”

you’re staring at him in the entryway of the living area, taking in his lanky form in his chair with tired eyes. satoru’s blindfold is discarded on the coffee table, eyes glowing enough for you to see the bags sitting heavily under his eyelids.

“i’m not tired,” he states simply, eyes flittering up to you for only a second. it’s written all over satoru’s face that he is in fact tired—no, exhausted, but for some reason, he just won’t sleep.

you sigh, deeply. your body aches with tiredness of your own, screaming at you to go back to sleep because you have to be up in a few hours. instead, you just walk over to him, slippers dragging along the floor with you. it doesn’t take you long to climb into his lap, laying horizontally over him and curling up into a ball right there, his arms coming to hold you closer to him.

before you can even hope of helping him fall asleep, you’re knocked out in his arms, chest rising and falling so calmly even satoru feels jealous. but he does not blame you. satoru simply looks at you, then back up, then back down, over and over.

no, he’d never tell you why he was like this. watching over your sleeping form just makes him all the more protective, makes him feel like he needs to be awake to watch his surroundings. just in case anyone tried anything.

he knows they wouldn’t dare, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

everyone else in the world felt differently, but to satoru, you were the only thing that mattered. the only thing he had left in this cruel, mean world. you were the only reason satoru breathed.

so, yes, he would endure as many sleepless nights as it took to keep you safe. his own health did not come first, you did. all you needed to know was he had his reasons for spreading himself so thin.

you were simply his world. his love.

and satoru would be damned if anyone was going to take that away.

[scurfi]

the end times — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru thinks he’s going to die because you’re giving him the silent treatment. (aka your first big fight with gojo).

contents. hurt/comfort, ooc, lovesick!gojo, you give him the silent treatment and he goes crazy, he is so pathetic in this one, tw obsessive behavior (he makes it EVERYONE’S problem), gojo’s pov

notes. loosely inspired by that one scene from yakuza fiance. not proofread whats new

Gojo knows he’s screwed up the second he steps into the common area of Jujutsu Tech’s dormitory. The air feels thick, wrong. And then there’s you, curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes aren’t moving.

His grin falters for half a second before he masks it with his usual bravado. “I always knew you had a little freak in you, but reading your erotic books out in the open? Who knew my girl was such a perv.”

The joke usually earns him a laugh, a shove, maybe even a teasing retort. But tonight, the silence that follows is deafening.

The pit in his stomach grows.

“Sweetheart?” He tries again, waving a hand obnoxiously close to your face.

You finally react, swatting his hand away, but there’s no playfulness in the motion. Your eyes don't even meet his.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, still staring at your book. “Again.”

Gojo scoffs, irritation bubbling. Not at you, never at you, but at the damn book that’s getting more attention than him.

“Ah, you know how it is. Got held up in Kyoto,” he says with a shrug.

The words leave his mouth too easily. He doesn’t realize his mistake until you finally, finally look at him.

And it’s nothing like usual.

There’s no warmth in your gaze, no sparkle of amusement or exasperation. Instead, you pin him with a look so sharp it strips him bare, leaving nothing but the hollow weight in his chest.

“You missed our date.”

His breath catches. His throat goes dry. “I–”

“I’m not mad about that.”

Relief floods him too fast, too soon. His shoulders sag as he leans down, tilting his head for a well-earned kiss. “You’re the best. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

You pull away before he can touch you.

Gojo freezes.

“[Name]?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You know, it’s funny.”

There’s nothing funny about this moment.

His pulse thrums as you continue, voice eerily steady. “That your mission was in Kyoto. I mean, we have a whole sister school there, full of sorcerers ready to handle a first-grade threat. So why would they need you, specifically?”

His stomach drops.

He’s never been good at guilt, not when he’s spent his whole life believing he’s untouchable. But now, standing before you, unable to meet your eyes, it sits heavy in his gut.

And you don’t let up.

“Of course, I asked around. Thought maybe I was overthinking it.” A humorless scoff escapes you. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my boyfriend was too busy meeting with his future bride.”

Gojo’s mouth opens, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

“That’s–” he starts, then stops because, shit, you’re staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone you can’t trust. The realization makes his stomach churn.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you say bitterly, arms crossing as you lean back into the couch. “I mean, I’d love to hear how you were going to explain this one, Gojo Satoru.”

Full name. That’s how he knows he’s really fucked up.

“It’s not–It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, voice unusually hoarse. His usual bravado, his charm, none of it is coming to him. He doesn’t even know where to start. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t hiding it. I just–”

“You just forgot to tell me that your clan is arranging a marriage for you?” you cut in sharply. “That slipped your mind?”

“No! Yes—Fuck, that’s not what I mean,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s never felt like this before. Like he’s scrambling for footing on uneven ground. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter, sweetheart. I wasn’t ever going to go through with it. You know that, right?”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do I? I mean, Suguru seemed shocked when I didn’t know that these were recurring dates set by your clan.”

Gojo falters.

“You didn’t even think to tell me, Satoru,” you say, voice quieter now, but somehow even more devastating. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

His heart clenches. That’s not–God, that’s not what this is.

“Of course you deserve to know! But I—” he exhales sharply, trying to gather his words. “I just—Fuck, I thought it was stupid. I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

You shake your head, looking almost tired now. “Right. Because I’m just supposed to assume you’d never go through with it. After your multiple dates with her. Because I’m supposed to read your mind, just like always.”

The weight of your words crashes into him, and Gojo suddenly realizes that this isn’t just about Kyoto. This isn’t just about one lie, one mistake. This is about every time he’s brushed things off, every time he’s let silence speak for him, every time he’s sat through those excruciating meetings, knowing he would never go through with it, but never once thinking about how it would feel for you to find out this way. This is about every time he’s expected you to just get him without him ever having to say a word.

This is about how, even after everything, you still don’t know how much he loves you.

And now, looking at you, Gojo is terrified that he’s already lost his chance to prove it.

“I’m going to sleep,” you stand up from your place on the couch. 

Gojo tries to follow you, “Listen, baby–”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need some space.” you turn around to send him a teary glare and that stops him in his tracks. He had never seen you cry. And it tore him apart knowing that he was the cause. 

The sound of your door slamming echoes in Gojo’s mind. 

Gojo Satoru is the first one in class the next day.

He drums his fingers against the desk, restless in a way he can't explain, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that he spent the entire night not sleeping. His mind was too busy replaying the way you had looked at him, no, the way you hadn’t looked at him.

He had left you alone and upset. He had made you feel like you were second to someone else. And worst of all, he hadn’t even realized it until it was too late.

“This must be a first.”

Gojo glances up as Suguru enters, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Gojo Satoru, on time? It must be the end times.”

He knows it’s a joke, but it might as well be the end times. Gojo doesn’t respond, just presses his lips into a thin line as he goes back to mentally reciting the apology speech he’s been revising in his head all night.

Then the shoji door slides open again.

You walk in with Shoko, your head tilted slightly as you whisper something to her, something he’ll never get to hear because you don’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, you take a seat at the farthest desk, as if he isn’t even there.

A part of him withers away.

But Gojo Satoru isn’t one to give up.

If words won’t get your attention, he’ll just have to be Gojo Satoru about it. He leans back in his chair and stretches obnoxiously, before loudly exclaiming, “Yaga-sensei! Are those grey hairs from your recent divorce?”

He grins, waiting for the familiar sound of your laugh, for that little shake of your head, for you to scold him like always.

But you don’t even look at him.

Instead, he’s met with Geto and Shoko’s twin expressions of abject horror, and before he has a chance to register what’s happening–

BAM!

Yaga’s palm collides with his head, sending him face-first into his desk.

Even through the throbbing pain, he can only think about one thing.

You didn’t even react.

“And how exactly is she ignoring you?”

Shoko’s grumpy voice echoes through the morgue, where she’s been attempting to practice her technique. She’s clearly unimpressed that Gojo Satoru has decided to spam-call her instead of dealing with his own problems.

“She’s ignoring me, Shoko,” Gojo groans dramatically from the other side of the Jujutsu Tech campus, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as he stands in front of your door. “I’ve been knocking for an hour. She’s in there. I know she’s in there, but she won’t answer.”

“Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit,” Shoko says dryly. “Honestly, I don’t know why it took her this long to hold you accountable. She’s let your bad behavior slide for way too long.”

“Why are we talking about me like I’m some kind of dog?!”

Shoko ignores him.

“From the sound of it, you really messed up. I mean, who keeps a marriage a secret from their girlfriend?” She pauses, then adds with a smirk in her voice, “Oh, right. You.”

Gojo groans, pressing his forehead against your door. “You and I both know that’s not what happened. But she doesn’t. And she won’t even give me the time of day to explain.”

Shoko sighs. “Give her time to cool down.”

“And what, let her decide she wants to run off and marry some other guy? Move to a cute little beach town in Enoshima, start a family, have three kids, and leave all Jujutsu sorcery behind?”

There’s a long pause before Shoko makes a disgusted sound. “O-oi. Keep your weirdly detailed fantasies to yourself.”

“I’m just being realistic,” he insists, clutching his flip phone dramatically.

Shoko promptly hangs up on him.

Gojo stares at the device for a moment before slowly lowering it, exhaling hard.

Then he rests his head against your door again, defeated.

But Gojo Satoru was never one to admit defeat, so he tries again. He returns to your door the very next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“[Name]!” he chirps. “I bought us some parfait! Let’s talk things over, yeah?”

Silence.

Not even the sound of movement.

But Gojo Satoru is not easily discouraged.

So Gojo Satoru comes again the next morning.

“[Name]!” he knocks again, this time balancing a slice of strawberry cake in one hand. “This is all my fault, so come out and let me apologize properly!”

Nothing.

Gojo sighs, leaning against the doorframe, about to knock again when—

Your phone rings.

His breath catches as he presses his ear to the wood.

“Hi, Suguru?”

His heart stops.

“Yeah, we’re still on for the movie. I’m just about to leave right now.”

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru understands what people mean when they say they feel like they’ve been punched in the gut.

Because you’re going to Suguru.

You’re not just ignoring him, you’re choosing someone else.

His fingers twitch at his sides as a feeling he doesn’t like at all creeps into his chest. It’s something ugly, something unfamiliar. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Was that how you felt?

He wants to knock again, wants to demand that you open the door, look at him, let him fix this before you walk away from him any further.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, shoves his hands into his pockets, and forces himself to step away from your door.

Forces himself to give you the space you deserved.

You don’t know why you relent so easily.

You shouldn’t. Not after the way he lied, the way he kept something so important from you.

And yet, when you hear him pacing outside your door, his nervous energy practically seeping through the walls, you feel something crack.

He’s been outside your room for the nth time this week. Every day, like clockwork, he’s knocked. Brought your favorite snacks. Talked to you through the door, filling the silence with his ridiculous banter, even when you refused to answer.

You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your blanket a little tighter. You should stay angry. But you can't.

You sigh, pressing your forehead to your knee.

Maybe it’s time to stop punishing the both of you.

With a deep breath, you stand, crossing the room to the door. When you open it, Gojo nearly stumbles forward, mid-step in his pacing.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and filled with so much desperate hope it makes your chest ache.

And the way his face lights up like you’ve just handed him the entire world tells you that, maybe, you were never going to be able to stay mad at him forever.

But you’re here, leaning on your door frame with your arms crossed, your nails digging into your skin as you glare at the man who has spent the last ten minutes tripping over his words, looking wrecked in a way you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, lips are parted like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know where to start.

Finally, you scoff, breaking the silence. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back into my room.”

“No!,” Gojo steps forward instinctively, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. And after everything, he is. “I screwed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, really?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, I really fucked up.”

Silence.

You should say something. You should demand an explanation, yell, maybe even cry, but you’re so tired. You’ve spent days twisting yourself into knots over this, convincing yourself you never meant as much to him as he did to you.

And then Gojo says it.

“I should’ve told you.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have told you after the first meeting. After the first second they brought it up.” He swallows hard. “But I was stupid. I thought if I ignored it, if I went through the motions, if I waited for the right moment… then it wouldn’t matter. That it would be over before you ever had to know.”

You shake your head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Satoru, do you even hear yourself? Do you get what it was like for me to find out from someone else? To hear that the person I–” you cut yourself off, but the damage is done. You see it in the way his breath hitches, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you.

“The person you what?” he asks softly, pleading.

You clench your jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

Your shake your head. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” he says, and the sheer brokenness in his voice makes your throat tighten. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to you that I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.” he exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear on everything, I was never going to go through with it. I never even showed up to any of the dates, so they kept ambushing me under the guise of missions! I sat through every single one of those goddamn meetings thinking about how ridiculous it was, how there was only ever one person I wanted.”

He stops himself, inhaling sharply.

And then, quieter, almost afraid:

“How there’s only ever you.”

The words hit you like a fist to the chest.

Gojo watches you carefully, breathless, waiting. Hoping. He’s given you the truth, raw and unfiltered, and now it’s up to you.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his world that makes you believe him.

For the first time in a week, your lips find his, and Gojo swears he can finally breathe again. The warmth of your palm against his cheek, the way your fingers curl slightly as if grounding yourself in him. It’s enough to make him melt.

"You’re so insufferably cheesy, Satoru," you murmur against his lips, your breath warm, teasing. "It makes me so angry that I love it." A pause, a soft exhale. "But I forgive you."

His grin is instant, smug and shameless. "That was good, huh?" He tilts his head, cerulean eyes twinkling. "I’m willing to bet your heart skipped a beat."

You roll your eyes, but you kiss him again, slower this time, because, damn it, he’s right.

extra!

“I demand some extra loving!” Satoru sprawls dramatically across your bed, limbs hanging off the edge like a defeated king.

You barely spare him a glance, flipping a page in your book as you lie comfortably on your stomach. “And why, exactly, do you deserve that?”

He lifts his head, pouting. “I deserve it after a week’s worth of psychological trauma. Don’t think I forgot that you ditched me for Suguru.”

“Oh… that.”

“Yeah. That.” His voice is thick with exaggerated betrayal.

You finally look at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It was a fake phone call, Satoru. You were just so insufferable camping outside my door that I had to make up an excuse.”

His jaw drops. “Huh?!”

[scurfi]

TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA

sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"

wc. 2k

Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 

He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.

His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 

He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.

He jumps when the doorbell rings.

There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.

“Hi,” you breathe.

He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.

You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”

Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 

You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.

“So why’d you come over?” he asks.

It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”

“Did I?”

You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.

Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”

Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 

“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”

Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”

Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.

He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”

You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.

“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.

He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.

You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 

You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.

Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”

“Rin.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”

He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 

It’s not enough. 

“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.

Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.

You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”

You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”

“He’s steady.”

Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”

“Stable and secure and safe.”

Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 

“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”

It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.

If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”

He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”

You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.

And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.

You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 

You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 

His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 

Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 

“What?” you ask.

He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.

He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”

You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says softly. 

Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”

He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 

“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”

Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 

He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 

“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”

You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.

All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  

You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.

You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.

“You should break up with him.”

You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”

“Today.”

A pause. “Okay.”

There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–

“You should date me instead.”

You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.

You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.

It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.

“Okay.”

[scurfi]

suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.

it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.

you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.

suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.

"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.

"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.

"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"

"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?

"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.

suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?

yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments

[scurfi]

Cravings

Sumeru men with a pregnant wife who is craving something yummy to eat!

cast: Alhaitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh

warnings: fem reader, pregnant! reader, fluff, slice of life, crying, one mention of morning sickness, just cute silliness and doting husbands uwu

MINORS/BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI I AM AN 18+ ACCOUNT

ALHAITHAM

your husband looks down at you with a calculated expression, trying to take in all your emotions with care. only, it’s nearly midnight and you’re tearfully asking for Zaytum peaches as you lay on one of the couches in your home.

“Darling….we’ll have to wait until morning for the market to open for me to get you some.” the green eyed man looming over you sighs, he sits beside you with a hand to your slightly swollen belly, the bump of your growing baby just beginning to show. You pout at him, and he knows he’s in trouble.

“Can’t you please just get a few fresh ones then? The fresh ones are so juicy…I really need a juicy one!” your body lurches forward as you cling to your husband’s bicep, rubbing your nose against it with a pitiful little whine.

“Please. It sounds so yummy…I need it.” you whisper and Alhaitham grunts, albeit he really doesn’t mind going out for you except for the fact he’s in his pajamas…and you want him to forage through nature.

“Fine….I will get you the peaches, darling.” he murmurs with a kiss to your temple, you feel the upwards curve of his lips on your skin when he does and as he slips his boots on he can’t help but let his gaze rake over your figure and how you’re carrying his child.

He laughs to himself at how he now would do anything for the joy and comfort of another person. And the soon to be another to join you.

CYNO

“But Cyno! They’re the best in all of Sumeru!” your cheeks are puffed out as your husband stands in front of you with his arms crossed, trying not to chuckle at your cute and pouty body language. He’s trying to put his foot down, he couldn’t possibly travel all the way to Caravan Ribat just for some baklava, for his sweet wife who is heavily pregnant with his little boy…he feels his heart crumble just a tad.

The winning blow is when one of your hands grip his pinkie, and the other rests on the curve of your stomach, nudging him with your bump.

“Cyno….remember when we shared that baklava on our second date? I’m….I’m craving that. It’s such a nostalgic taste and I want to taste it again. So please? We can even share it again.”

You’re startled when two hands cup your face and lips press tight in a loving kiss against your own, the General Mahamatra showing you a lopsided grin,

“I see that I can’t say no to you, I’ll be back soon and we’ll share, alright love?” he mumbles, blushing when you squeal in delight and press a chaste kiss to his lips and he rubs your baby bump affectionately before leaving on an especially important mission.

TIGHNARI

“Let me get this straight. You want pita pockets.”

“Yes.”

“But not the ones I make.”

“No.”

“Only the ones Collei makes?”

“Yes. I want hers.”

“Collei is out on duty right now, sweetheart.” Tighnari sighs, pinching his nose with two fingers, eyes shut tight at the…debacle before him. You flop down on the bed, crossing your arms over your chest with a soft whimper of his name and he peeks at you - knowing he will be met with a reckoning force of a face from you.

He smiles in amusement when your eyebrows raise in the slightest and you shift a little uncomfortably, your hand under your belly. The pregnancy is about half way through and Tighnari rushes to your side to cradle your bump as you move to lay down. He cups your cheek and catches a stray tear that leaves your eye and frowns.

“You really…really want a pita pocket made by Collei and her only?” he mutters. When you nod wordlessly he chuckles with a fleeting kiss to your nose.

“Alright then, I will send someone else out to do Collei’s work, I’ll make sure she’s here shortly.”

“Thank you, I love you.” you whisper and let your mates tail rest across your belly to warm your body and heart.

KAVEH

your husband tries not to panic when you come out of the bathroom looking exhausted, a hand protectively on your lower belly where a baby the size of a blueberry currently resides. Someone so tiny making your tummy hurt is really a feat that you’re getting used to. Kaveh pulls you to his chest, rubbing your back softly as he kisses your cheek,

“Oh my dear….is there anything I can do for you? Please I’ll do anything to make you feel better.” he coos, leaning back to cup your face in his hands with a worried expression.

“Well you could’ve just not gotten me pregnant.” you laugh, scrunching your nose when he scoffs like the two of you haven’t been actively wanting a baby for awhile now.

“Please dearest? I’m serious if there’s anything you need me to get or make for your stomach to feel less…badly…just say the word.” Kaveh promises with extra resolve, his larger hand resting over yours where it still sits at your tummy.

“I….I do want something. Actually.” you say slowly, not meeting his eyes as you feel a little apprehensive. Kaveh waits for you to finish, tilting his head with expectancy,

“I want candied Ajilenakh nut…a whole plate of it! Can I?” your face lifts hopefully, bottom lip jutting forward out of habit. Your husband thinks for a moment and then smiles at you,

“I can make you some, I’m sure we have the ingredients.” Kaveh coos, pulling you delicately by the hand to set you down at the table where you watch your lover begin to cook for you and your little one with a smile on your face. You might feel sick on occasion with this baby, but right now you feel perfect.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!♡

[scurfi]

React

Alhaitham knows what you do to him, and he welcomes it

warnings: pwop, afab reader, readers hair is described (called mussed), little bit of size kink (he is called imposing and reader is described as shorter than him), nicknames “pretty little thing”, “sweetheart”, he also calls you filthy but not as a nickname, kitchen sex, he gives you so many kisses, hints at round two ehe

MINORS/BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Alhaitham finds you irresistible. He also, finds this fact quite logical. How could he not when it’s a biological fact that he’s romantically and physically attracted to you, and that his cock gets hard around you? Especially like now when you’re wandering around his kitchen in the early hours of the morning in nothing but a little nightshirt, hair mussed and the flesh of your thighs soft beneath the hem of your clothing.

His dick twitches beneath his silky sleep pants, the ones hung low on his hips as his fingers graze across the cool marble of his kitchen counter. You’re drinking tea, both hands holding the mug and your eyes closed like you’re bathing in the warm drink and the sun is beaming into you through the window. Alhaitham pauses to observe you, how ethereal you are, how you’re simultaneously this sweetheart yet he knows what lurks underneath you. Something that makes him wild, and has his breath coming out a bit more ragged.

His hands are then on your waist and you jump, nearly spilling your tea.

“Archons, Alhaitham!” you gasp, a hand to your chest and a small playful smile on your lips as you look up at him. He rubs at your waist, green eyes narrowed with a sly grin as he leans in to kiss your cheek. You sense a small change in him, maybe it’s the fact his cock is nearly tenting his pants as his big hands continue to paw at your body, drawing you closer to his chest and gradually hiking your garment up past your ass.

“You’re not wearing panties.” Alhaitham murmurs, looking over your shoulder at your bare ass. When you laugh, it’s rich like velvet to him while now your own hands wander over his impressive pectorals and abdomen.

“I felt like I didn’t need them is all.” you coo, sighing with a kiss to his lips while he moves his hands down to cup your asscheeks. He kneads them roughly in his palms while your hands press into his chest as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

“Why’s that.” the man muses, a rhetorical question, he can almost taste your pussy slicking up for him between your legs. You react just as viscerally as he does, wanting to fuck you. Wanting to love you. It registers in his head that these feelings for you are more than what logic and knowledge can provide, and he allows his heart to open.

“I want you.” you pant and let his more imposing body back you against the counter, a thigh moving between your legs that makes you bite your lip with a soft exhale. He has no shame when he lifts for your nightshirt over your head in one swoop, throwing it on the floor and cupping your tits with a squeeze.

“I want you too, sweetheart. Lemme turn you around.” he responds in kind, pressing another long kiss to your parted lips before you’re facing the counter, hands splayed out on the marble and your mug of tea forgotten just a reach away. His large hand presses to the small of your back to make you arch, his lips leaving a trail of heated kisses from one shoulder to the other. You’re almost trembling in anticipation, nipples hard and wobbling when you peek behind you at your lover who is pulling his heavy cock from his pajamas, your mouth waters at the purpled tip leaking precum. His hand grips it to pump and you can’t help the moan that leaves your lips.

“Fuck, Alhaitham…” you turn back, squeaking at a sudden harsh grab at your bottom. You feel his mushroom tip nudging against your hole when he moves closer, so close that you feel your own arousal stick to his skin.

“Filthy mouth.” he grunts, looming over your body to press his nose against the side of your neck, “you’re…you’re so pretty. My pretty little thing.” his jaw falls open as he nudges his hips forward, slowly breaching your soaked pussy, opening you up little by little until he can thrust shallowly. He holds your ass apart to watch your lower lips spread as he moves, groaning lowly in his throat. You wiggle, pushing back against him to get him deeper.

“You need more?” he huffs, biting back a smirk and nipping your shoulder blade. You whine an affirmation instantly, bowing your back further and bracing yourself when his hands finally grip your waist. At the first slam of himself into you, buried to the hilt, you yelp. He begins his pace, watching your hands scramble to grasp anything, feeling his thick cock impale you so well you swear you could feel him in your stomach. The stretch he gives your pussy aches deliciously, clit puffy and twitching for attention.

“Love how you take me so well, always feel so damn good around me.” the man grunts, arm wrapping around your waist so his clever fingers that flip through pages of book after book can move down to flick and fondle at your clit. He wants to know you better than you know yourself, your body fine tuned for him to play, and he does until you’re on your tiptoes. From the combination of his heavy strokes and the stimulation to your little bundle of nerves your ass is higher for him and your cheek is pressed against the counter.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna cum baby!” you’re squealing when he recklessly ups his pace that makes your eyes roll back in your head, his lips part when he feels you clamp down hard around his cock makes a delicious moan fly from his throat. Hips stuttering as you cry out while he fucks you through your orgasm, panting his name and your feet kicking up with the aftershocks.

“I….I’m going to cum….gonna cum inside you yeah? You’re mine.” Alhaitham chokes when you nod frantically, pussy fluttering and his cock lurching inside of you till he gasps when thick ropes of cum coats your insides. He slows his pace, allowing himself to come down from the high as you tremble against the chilly countertop.

A pair of lips meets the back of your neck, tender and soft, sighing breaths and an affectionate nuzzle of his nose into your skin while your hand reaches back to rake at his silvery locks. Alhaitham doesn’t want to pull out, but the position calls for it. He winces when he does, pressing himself close and a strong arm around your waist as your combined juices dribble down your leg.

“I’m going to clean you up.” he murmurs into your ear, kissing just underneath it, “but then,” he purrs, making the hairs stand up on your arms, “I need more. So I’m glad you didn’t wear panties.”

[scurfi]

❤︎ LOVE POTIONS ! — MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. VALENTINE’S DAY 2025 — aphrodisiacs are both a curse and a blessing. / midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, & takami keigo.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs / sex pollen, dirty talk, edging, brattiness, overstimulation, squirting, threesome, sickness but it’s sexy, breeding kink, unprotected sex.

xoxo, juno. everyone pretend it’s v-day 💘

MIDORIYA IZUKU.

⟡ getting hit by a villain’s quirk right before valentine’s day was not something you’d planned to do. somehow, the effects of the quirk end up being an early gift and also a curse.

fat tears race down izuku’s face, his hands grasping weakly at the sheets with each dizzying bounce of your ass onto his thighs. an hour has passed, spent in different positions around the house with less than five minute breaks in between—but no matter how many times you cum, the glowy pink ring around your irises doesn’t go away.

“too much, ‘s too much,” he slurs, words running into each other and becoming jumbled nonsense. “baby, i can’t, not anymore—shit! ‘m empty now, and it h-hurts so bad.”

“hurts?” you parrot disbelievingly, too deep under the spell to feel the burn in your thighs. “‘zuku, know what hurts?”

“no, i know,” he sobs, balls squeezing painfully as the familiar pressure returns to his cock. it’s familiar, but it’s not the same; there’s no cum involved, he’s been drained too dry to give you anything. “l-last time, please. i need a minute to, ngh, relax.”

it hurts. izuku’s cock is practically purple with overstimulation, but he’s too entranced to pull you off himself. when you’d arrived home, tugging at his belt and babbling about what had happened, izuku took a moment to consider if he had any notes on something like this.

villains with these types of quirks have always been rare, and it’s just his luck that one popped up before valentine’s day.

the couch groans from the combination of movement and weight on it, yawning with wear. izuku has never underestimated your strength or sex drive, but this . . you’re bouncy, and he’s wondering if the villain’s quirk enhanced your stamina too.

in a startling display of affection, you grab at his jaw and kiss away his tears, cooing sweet, sensual nothings into his ear. your voice is smooth when you tell him how good he’s doing, how sexy he looks when he’s whining so sweetly. just when he’s thinking it can’t get any better, you hit him where he’s weakest with a sultry murmur of want you to put a baby in me, izuku.

flustered, he can’t help but let out a squeal when you nip at his neck, kissing over previous bites and smatterings of freckles.

“do what you want with me,” he surrenders, verdant green eyes meeting your own. “hah, if that’s what you want, jus’ use me. fuck me, baby.”

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ you have the misfortune of tracking a villain with japan’s number one hero, the all too explosive dynamight. everything completely unravels during the confrontation, when katsuki’s rushing forward to deliver the final blow. the dastardly villain releases a thick, noxious smoke that fills the air with a sickening sweetness — despite all the coughing and hacking, he manages to subdue the villain until the police arrive, but you never make it back to the agency to regroup.

ridiculous, is all you can think as you’re being folded in half in the back of a company car that’s sneakily wedged in an alleyway. katsuki’s not-so-gentle teeth nip at the tender skin of your thighs, and he doesn’t think twice about the marks that are sure to show up by tomorrow.

“d-deeper, katsuki,” you writhe against the seats, too handsy for his liking. “please, it’s not deep eno—”

“shut it,” he grunts, scowling down at you. his usual expression doesn’t quite have the same effect it usually does, since it’s been mellowed out by the villain’s aphrodisiac like quirk. “don’t you dare tell me how to fuck, got it?”

a bratty huff escapes you, and you make a show of rolling your eyes at him, seemingly unimpressed. “i wouldn’t have to if you’d just do it right. oh, but who am i to judge the number one?”

a vein bulges from his forehead as he listens, crimson eyes seething silently while you continue to lay it on thick. “i guess dynamight can fuck however he wants, even if it’s subpar—”

in an instant, katsuki’s hand is on your throat and applying just enough pressure to force out a gasp from you. that teasing and talking back worked—now he’s really about to come undone, show you just how strong the number one pro can really be.

“can’t take that back now, can you? if you think you can insult me and order me around, oh,” katsuki grinds his teeth, pressing your knees into your chest without taking a moment to appreciate the pretty moan that leaves you. “fuck, you’ve got another thing coming. shut your mouth.”

“make me.”

he can’t seem to recall a time where he’s ever been this turned on—that aphrodisiac quirk’s got nothing on the way you talk to him, challenge him in a way that nobody has before.

katsuki draws his hips back, slow and deliberate in each movement. you were right, he wasn’t giving you his all; but now, he will, and he won’t stop until you eat your words. deeper? harder? faster? if that’s what you’re asking for, he’ll give it to you.

you watch breathlessly, mesmerized by the frustrated scrunch of his face, all because he can’t stop replaying your words in his head. a harsh slap to your clit snaps you out of your daze the moment it lands, stinging terribly.

“let’s work up to that, alright? you’re going to—”

“what if i don’t, katsuki?” you tip your chin up at him, looking down your nose at him. “then what?”

another slap, this time with a little more strength behind it. he disregards everything you just said, getting ready to give you an explosive orgasm you’ll have to work hard for.

“that’s what. now, let’s try that again—you’ll be good and count each slap, unless you want me to spank this slutty pussy raw,” satisfied by the responding clench of your cunt, he arches a brow and smirks. “your choice, brat.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ with a new, unstable virus spreading rapidly through japan, scientists are racing to develop a cure. it seems to act like the standard flu, but it affects quirk users differently—shoto ends up with an unusual kind of fever.

“ah, ‘m cumming, sho,” cum squirts from your pussy like a waterfall, and everything’s so overwhelming that you unintentionally push his cock out. “good, ‘s so fucking good.”

sweat coats his face, clinging to the rough scar on shoto’s left side. panting, he sucks in a breath, grasping around for his swollen cock.

“i’m sorry,” his voice cracks once his tip slides through your sticky folds and makes your back jolt off the bed, “it’s just—shit, it’s not enough.”

“a-again? i, hah, don’t know if that’s a good—”

shoto shakes his head, shivering as a thin layer of frost appears on his right cheek; it sparkles brilliantly before melting into droplets of water that drip from his jaw. “i’m still burning up,” it’s completely out of bounds, but the low rasp of his sickly voice scratches an itch in your brain. “see, lovey? can’t even use my quirk to fix it.”

a sigh escapes you, and you spread your trembly thighs one more time. “i might be too tired to drive you to the hospital after this,” you warn.

“i know, but baby,” gratefully, shoto pushes forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside you. his warm hand settles on your lower belly to add some pressure, gearing you up for another explosive orgasm. “i don’t wanna be like this when we go to the hospital.”

he flushes darkly with embarrassment, and the mental image of a tortured shoto rutting into a hospital bed as waves of the fever’s severe effects overwhelm him is enough to make you soften.

once he starts to thrust, developing a rhythm that would put your own fingers to shame, his mouth drops open and he’s babbling incoherently. “ . . always so fucking hot around you, baby. i-it’s not my fault you’re so—haa, shit—so perfect, making me burn up whenever you’re not looking.”

and because being this deep inside you is as close as he can get to heaven, shoto sees no reason to hold back on the honest praise. he’s always been a little shy to express himself during sex, mouth drying up whenever he tries to say something rather dirty, but not now. since his brain is being fried by the heat at the moment, he won’t feel any embarrassment.

“sho, right there,” a breath is punched out of your lungs, and your nails scratch at his shoulders each time his tip kisses your sweet spot. “oh god, ‘m gonna make a mess again!”

his cock twitches and he moans your name, only egging you on. “can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

you fall off the edge, his words serving as the final push. euphoria curls through you, cresting like a wave until the sensitivity becomes too much, bringing you back to earth. abs clenching, shoto pulls out to cover your stomach in white.

in an instant, shoto’s temperature drops. quietly, he shivers against you, huffing into your neck.

“i want to stay like this before we leave.”

“you’ve got ice forming rapidly on your back, sho.”

“it’ll melt if i’m cuddling with you . . could you also rub my back? maybe i just need to sleep it off.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

⟡ eijirou listened to you specifically tell him NOT to eat the wrapped cookies you had in the fridge and when you left, he did exactly that.

“babe, baby, you feel so good,” cum races down his fingers in creamy rivulets, puddling at the base of his cock. caught up in his fantasy, eijirou flicks his wrist faster, hoping with all his heart to imitate the hot squeeze of your cunt. “s-so pretty when you take me, always so fuckin’ beautiful.”

his voice cracks just as the door opens, and your purse falls to the floor. your boyfriend is spread out on the bed, flushed feverishly and gasping out your name like he’s delirious—it would be the perfect scene to come home to if you didn’t spot two torn cookie wrappers near him.

“eijirou,” you speak his name lowly, catching his eyes and raising a brow. he’s not sure if he should feel awkward or turned on because of your scolding tone, so he just swallows dryly and looks toward you with hooded eyes. “already forgot the speech i gave you? why’d you eat the cookies?”

shame creeps up his neck and makes his skin prickle uncomfortably. grasping for a response, eijirou decides to question you right back. “why’d you have sex cookies in the fridge?”

“they were a surprise for valentine’s!”

oh.

now he really feels dumb for spoiling your plans. perhaps if he hadn’t been so hungry, so greedy, he wouldn’t be embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

but the feeling doesn’t last long—your tough face drops into something more sultry: doe eyes and an upturned quirk of your lips that’s sure to finish him.

the mattress sinks under your weight, and you scoot beside him with a self satisfied smile. it’s small and quiet, but a voice in the back of his head tells him maybe you wanted this to happen; you certainly don’t look too upset about it.

“no way, baby,” a hiss escapes him when you slap his cum-stained hand away from his cock, instead choosing to replace them with your own. “am i dreaming? mrs. red riot, are you—”

his narration throws you off, and you choke just kissing his tip. you know eijirou’s surprised and eternally grateful, but damn. “mr. red riot, you’d be quiet if you wanted me to.”

“sorry,” he says earnestly, tensing up to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a leaf when you finally take him in your mouth. “i’ve just—” he inhales sharply as you slowly, torturously take him inch by inch. “i’ve been waiting s-so long for you to come home, babe.”

you swallow, throat squeezing tight around his cock, and eijirou’s clean hand flies to the back of your head, hovering precariously. “i’m crazy about you, all day every day, and the cookies made it worse. ‘m sorry for spoiling the surprise, i didn’t mean to—haa, w-what’re you doing to me? oh, you’re gonna make me—”

it doesn’t take long for obscene slurps and occasional gags to fill the room as you suck eijirou’s cock, spoiling him with each languid bob of your head. it’s too much, and the tension grows thicker in his gut, setting his insides ablaze with anticipation.

he’s hurtling toward his high, jerking his hips up and shamelessly preparing to fill up your throat this quickly—but then, you push yourself off of him. a shudder ripples through his body, and he throws you a pained, wide eyed look.

“why’d you..? baby?”

you motion for him to lay on his back, and he can see the gears in your head turning behind a wicked smile. “might as well draw it out, hm?”

“you’re gonna milk me?”

he’s so cute . .

you want to see him crying.

you hum, “only until you’re begging for me to stop.”

KAMINARI DENKI, ft. SERO HANTA

⟡ an undercover sting at a mysterious village with your work partners doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. the village, out in the far country, has been reported as the one place with the highest levels of quirk activity in japan. little did you know about the fact that this place is home to infectious pollen that makes its way into people via the air, or about its temporary effects on people . .

“what the fuck,” you moan, vision blurry between their faces and intermittent flashes of light. “there’s no way it’s from a plant, it can’t be—”

hanta’s tongue darts out to lick the salt away from his upper lip, and he points a finger toward a passage in the encyclopedia. “the symptoms are, ngh, the same.”

one of your hands works denki’s cock while the other shakily flips through an encyclopedia of germs and the like; hanta’s buried to the hilt inside of you, tan cheeks flushed with exertion.

“can’t you just read after?” denki unhelpfully suggests, blinking back a few tears while sparks of electricity fly off from his blond hair. “let’s just fix—yeah, baby, jus’ like that—fix the problem now and figure it out later.”

“shut it, denks,” hanta rolls his eyes, rocking his hips into you. despite the fact that the three of you are totally naked and in the middle of some kind of threesome, you’re researching what apparently caused this surge of uncontrollable arousal.

things began not long after you arrived in the village, where everything had looked unsuspecting and normal. surely there was a villain lurking around somewhere . . ? why else would there be so much unusual activity, enough to alert the authorities?

“look, they f-found something similar in america,” hanta’s voice wavers uncharacteristically, his own high racing through him with such intensity he doubles over.

“forget about the book,” denki’s begging while pressing dazed kisses to your tits, one hand tossing the book aside and slipping between your trembling thighs. “c’mon, babe. show us what you look like when you cum.”

perhaps this is something to be selfish about — when will an opportunity to fuck your hot coworkers come around again? hanta’s everything you’ve been daydreaming about, with a muscular physique sharp enough to have been cut from stone. denki’s just as attractive, though his features are softer, the result of his constant snacking while on the job or in the agency.

hanta nods in assent, already trailing over the edge. “want you to gush all over me, baby.”

thrashing under denki’s fingers, it momentarily occurs to you that maybe they’re a little too experienced. neither of them were concerned with a threesome when it was suggested, and there’s no mistakes in their almost synchronized movements.

just watching your eyes flutter and roll back is enough to make denki cum with a moan of your name as his cock sprays white. hanta’s pupils probably dilate a hundred times their size at the erotic sight, and his hips begin to stutter as heat races up his spine.

denki, shaking profusely, musters his voice and maintains his hurried pace. “g-good girl, go on ‘n let it out.”

since stepping foot into the village and inhaling that damn pollen, the pro hero’s been getting realistic flashes of thoughts he’s kept locked away for some time. you, on your knees, looking up at him like you’re ready to do more than just please. you, with your pretty eyes full of tears as you lose your mind beneath him.

an orgasm stronger than the lustful effects of any aphrodisiac tears through you, and your cunt bears down so hard it forces out hanta’s own high as well. with all his might, he tries to resist the surge of weakness that hits him and fails—he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely and burying his face in your neck.

loosely, your jaw hangs open and breathy gasps leave your mouth. denki’s sparking with electricity beside you and simultaneously struggling to get it under control. a single yellow spark flies off his body and mildly electrocutes hanta, snapping him back to reality. he jerks against you, sounding exhausted.

“uh. so, um, what’re we supposed to report when we get back?”

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ bless his heart. for valentine’s, he decides to be a silk heart-shaped box of japan’s most expensive chocolate for you. he’d been so focused on finding your favorite flavors along with new ones that he didn’t even realize that he’d purchased sex chocolate.

“it hurts, dovey. it’s s-so painful.”

since sharing the box of chocolates with you, keigo’s been reduced to a pathetic mess who can’t seem to stop shaking when you just barely touch him. vermilion feathers puff up and out at his back, his messy wings conveying the way he’s crumbling inside.

you’re just as hot, skin crawling with a lustful itch only keigo can scratch for you. the frenetic beating of his wings whips up cold gusts of wind stronger than any ceiling fan, and not a single goosebump rises on your skin.

“right there, kei,” you moan, tears gathering in your eyes as he continuously hits your sweet spot. “oh my god, don’t stop.”

as if he’d ever plan to.

he hiccups, face flushed and hair tousled like he’s just returned from some mission out in the wild. softly, with the barest note of urgency, keigo whines out your name and a request.

“dovey, c’mon,” his voice cracks halfway through his sentence, shattered with unmistakable pleasure. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll, ah, i’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

keigo’s entire body thrums with the need, the purpose, to please you, and his own pleasure hinges on you and your praise. sure enough, you cry out to him, words saccharine and addicting.

“make me cum, kei,” and he doesn’t need any further instruction, not when he knows your body this well. smooth fingers slip between your thighs and work your clit, causing your back to arch when he applies just enough pressure to send electricity through your nerves.

you’re wrapping around keigo’s waist, drawing him in and breaking down his self control easily.

“want me to fill up this pussy, baby? i can do it again and again—” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts that amplify the clap of skin against skin almost as much as a quirk could, “while you take it like you were made to.”

quaking beneath him, you nod frantically, as if those are the words you’ve been waiting to hear. while he was so vividly illustrating the scene, his wings unconsciously began to wrap around your bodies, a sign of how much he wants it too.

you gasp, eyes squeezing shut with the last image being keigo’s face, twisted in ecstasy and scrunched with concentration. “gonna—‘m gonna cum, kei!”

“with me, dovey, please,” sweat pours down the sides of his face as the heated bliss tightens in his gut, applying an unbearable pressure to his cock. “let me feel you cum around me, ughhh.”

sloppily, keigo presses open mouthed kisses to your lips, and a delighted moan escapes him when you kiss back. your lips are soft against his, and your tongue carries the sweet taste of valentine’s chocolates, the expensive ones he’d come home with earlier.

with his orgasm creeping up on him and dulling his surroundings, a brief thought occurs to him about those chocolates. the sales lady had raised a brow when he filled up the customizable box with many pink chocolates that had been sitting in a case separate from the rest.. no, that can’t be right. surely this is the common valentine’s day effect on couples—it can’t be from the chocolate, can it?

[scurfi]

choso kamo getting so handsy and greedy with you that he makes you squirt for himmmm ;)

based on this ask.

“come onnn,” he drawls, something sinister dropping his tone. “give me another one.” two fingers are circling over your clit, nursing you through your third orgasm of the hour. “i know you can give me more than that, pretty girl. wan’ you to make a mess all over my fuckin’ hand.”

a big, warm palm is splaying over your tummy, applying enough pressure to make you cry out deliriously, head lolling back and sinking into disheveled sheets. you’re writhing, rutting your cunt against the hand that paws at you, bated breaths catching in your throat.

choso follows the cant of your hips, long fingers sinking deeper and deeper, fucking to the very back of your poor, drooling pussy. he smiles when you tighten around him, sucking him in harder, wordlessly begging for more.

“god, i just know you wanna make a mess,” his pretty lips are ghosting yours, voice hushed as he whispers into your gaped mouth. “give me one more, baby.” he kisses you sloppily, furling his fingers upward to press against the spot that makes you wince.

“cho,” you’re choking out, interrupting yourself with a helpless whimper.

his fingers are relentless, mindlessly fucking you open and stretching that pretty pussy out as he swallows your cries, embodying your pleasure. choso follows the depraved arch of your back, poor cock aching at the sight of you so… gone.

“f— fuck it feels different,” you gasp, core tightening in a horrendous need to release. “oh, god… f-feels like something is different this time.”

“yeah? y’gonna squirt for me? is that it, pretty?” choso smiles something wicked. the hand that lays over your abdomen presses harder, his fingers plunging deeper. “fuck, give it to me. i need that… wanna taste that. i’ll clean you up, yeah?”

his fingers slip out briefly, but only for them to hungrily delve between your glistening lips. they trail over your slick, twitching clit, tracing tight, purposeful circles over and over and over. it’s not long before he’s sinking them back inside of you, ruining that slutty little pussy yet again.

he leers over your body, gaping as you fuck his hand, desperately chasing your looming orgasm. the rhythmic pulse of your cunt serves as a warning of the incoming downpour that slowly begins to trickle around his fingers.

a loud and nasty sound leaves you as the dribbling liquid morphs into a steady stream of arousal that gushes from your cunt. choso fucks you through it all, sloshes and splatters of your essence staining his wrinkled shirt and face. part of him can’t help but to loll out his tongue, the greedy muscle sweeping over his lips to collect your sweet juices.

“yeaaaah, fuck that’s it,” choso coos, slipping his fingers out of your sloppy hole to fully palm your cunt. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, huuhhh?”

serval tender slaps land against your poor, swollen clit as he forces any remaining liquid of out of you. you curse him, legs snapping closed before hugging you knees to your chest. you’re a wreck, whining and gasping for him to get a fucking grip.

“you’re insane.” you mumble.

choso shrugs, smiling crookedly. “i always knew you could do that.”

[scurfi]

"did you just spank me?" ☆

choso has wide eyes in the mirror's reflection as they meet yours. glossy and blown out with lust, but wide—nervous, like a deer stuck in headlights. you're bent over, back arched down as your boyfriends hands rest gently on your hips. there's a sting that lingers over your ass, and choso is holding his hand out like he's committed a crime with it.

it's not like he's vanilla—you're being fucked ass-up in front of a mirror so that you can watch him take what's his—but he's frozen still like he's appalled at his own actions.

"oh," he's flushing a gentle pink. "i'm sorry, i don't know why i did that. it was just so much and you were so—i mean... i wasn't thinking and—"

"do it again."

he's still balls deep inside of you—hips pressed tight against the flesh of your ass: his cock pulses inside of you, each veiny ridge filling you out like you're made for him. "why would i do that?"

“because it feels good,” you shrug, pushing back onto his cock a little. "cho, baby, i'm asking you to spank me, not commit a war crime."

"might as well be," he mumbles under his breath, looking down at the curve of your ass at his face scrunches up into an expression you've never seen on him before. is that... restraint?

your poor choso has never been all that good at controlling his wants and whims. he's a man whose body often betrays him: he couldn't hold an orgasm back to save his life, nor can he ever stifle those pretty moans of his. much like how he couldn't stop his hand from smacking against the flesh of your ass.

so, of course, you goad him on. clenching tight around his achy cock as you meet his gaze in the mirror. "i want you to spank me again, choso. be mean. make it hurt when i sit down tomorrow."

"i don't want to hurt you."

"don't you? you spanked me first, cho. i think you want it even more than i do."

his eyebrows furrow. its devastatingly cute for a man balls-deep inside of you. "shut up," he says with no real bite. "i didn't mean to."

"your hand just slipped and landed on my ass?"

"...yes."

you roll your eyes, and offer choso a smile in the mirrors reflection. “you look all embarrassed. just like that time you came just from kissing m—fuck!”

a sharp sting radiates over your ass cheek, and once you blink the shock out of your eyes, you’re met with a very sudden snapping of chosos hips into yours. he somehow manages to fuck you even deeper than before. with every thrust he sends you forward on the bed, until you’re no longer holding yourself up with your arms and your face is pressed right into the mattress.

“you always-” smack! “-make me feel-” smack! “-so nervous around you.”

your face screws up. “what?”

he stills, leans forward to take the sheet away from your face so you can look back at him properly. “i’m punishing you.”

“for what, giving you butterflies?”

“yes.” the sweetest of smiles pulls at his lips—you’d think it endearing if not for the way his hand slaps down onto your ass again, and he resumes his mean pace.

live and let cum, you suppose. choso drills into you in such a way that you’re cumming both quicker and harder than you ever have with him. your orgasm, the sweet way your pussy grips him in pleasured need, sends choso over the edge right after you. “mmm iloveyouiloveyouimsorryforspankingyouiloveyou”

of course with another mean spank to your ass, choso pulls out and exhales the prettiest moan you’ve heard from him as he releases all over your tender ass. you’re spent, and fucked so dumb you don’t chide him for then using his fingers to rub his cum around in soothing circles over your ass. you won’t admit it, but it feels kinda nice.

“sorry,” choso whispers as he reaches for something to wash you down with. “you should slap me as payback.”

“you’d probably like it.”

“…yeah.”

[scurfi]

going crazy over how husband material osamu is, hear me ouuutttt

tags : fluff, time-skip, f!reader, tattoo , he listens to, he cares , and he cook , i’m thirsting m sorry

osamu would be the type of bestfriend that knows damn well you want him bad but keeps on teasing you and acting clueless just to see how far you can go before you crack

as childhood friends, it was normal for you to be touchy and generally comfortable with each other but it raised his suspicions when you now looked away when he was topless around you. it’s not like you were uncomfortable with it ?

you’ve basically lived your whole life with the miyas, you’ve seen osamu wet the bed as a kid, get rejected by his middle school crush you’ve even witnessed him putting his hand in his pants and scratch his butt, seeing him topless in the comfort of his apartment was a casual thing so why the hell would you look away , did he lose his shape ? no, he still worked out frequently even if he’s not an athlete anymore…

either way osamu always took care for you, he was always so careful when it comes to you , sure he’d playfully hit you here and there but it was nothing you couldn’t handle

just imagine him cooking you a nice heart-warming meal, glancing at you every now and then while you’re sitting on the counter looking like a mess after a long exhausting day , wine glass in hand and rambling your worries away. it really became a ritual for you to swing by his place unannounced after a bad day.

he’d open the door with his signature lazy smile “ya had a bad day?” you finally let you shoulders relax “long story..” he steps back, inviting you in “i got time”.

sometimes osamu gets this weird feeling he can’t explain when he realizes he’s seen you grow into a real woman, it really freaked him tf out when you told him you had your first time with some boy he never heard the name of.

he scolds you after a bad decision for sure , but he’s always there to comfort you right after. SO imagine his surprise when during a drunken confession after you finally listened to him and dumped your toxic bf, you admit to him between sobs that broke his heart into pieces

“why can’t i find a guy that actually likes me—?” your face was buried in his now wet tshirt , his strong arms holding you tight as if they were gonna protect you from feeling hurt, your words were muffled, melting together “why can’t i find someone like you samu…im so jealous of the girl that’s gonna be yours” holy fucking shit how was he so blind to never realize this…

thank god that night was complete blurry in your mind , so when you woke up the day completely hung over and found your beloved best friend making you breakfast with a bed hair and his sleeves rolled up showing off his forearms that you find really hot for some reason , your slight blush was explained.

omfg the day he showed up to your workplace during his break with a well crafted lunch box he made full of delicious onigiris because he listens and he remembers that your annoying coworker kept flaunting her relationship to you and it pissed you off and you wanted to show her that you can pull too

ever since he realized the power he had over you, he wouldn’t stop just picking at you and seeing how far he can go, he was basically testing the waters by stretching until his shirt lifts up, hold eye contact for a lil longer than what he should, and how he praises you don’t get me startedddd

“yer actually pretty decent at this” when you cook dinner with him, “look at ya bein all confident and independent !” when you actually tell the waiter they got your order wrong, “yer pretty distractin’ yk that? that’s kinda dangerous.”

osamu was a pretty touchy guy, not overly cuddly or anything but he did enjoy proximity, he’d usually hold your wrist when passing crowds but for some reason he now held your waist, his touch gentle yet firm on you. istg his hand placement is impeccable

there’s just something about him keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you that’s so endearing, so caring and attentive to your lil daily struggles.

it all happened when you got your first tattoo, he had sent you to his friend whom he deemed good enough to ink your body. he was nervous and excited as if he was the one getting tattooed but that’s mostly because you wanted to keep it a mystery, he knew that when he came home after closing the shop he’d find you there already.

there was just something so intimate about him coming back from work and finding you already at his place , he liked it, he could get use to it.

“ ‘m here !” he yelled out closing the door behind him , analyzing you from head to toe as you pop infront of him with his tshirt and shorts on displaying an almost mischievous smile, his eyebrows creasing as he doesn’t see any trace of a tattoo on your arms or legs, maybe it was on your shoulders?

he plopped down on his couch , man spreading “soo… are ya gonna show me or ?” you happily turn to the side, his eyes widen as you lift up the shirt enough to reveal a sideboob tattoo. he sits up the shock visible on his face “holy shit cmere” you obey him , getting closer for him to get a better look. with a swift motion his arm was now around your hip , pushing you to sit on one of his legs

he clearly recognized his friend’s intricate style, the design cupping the side of your boob, he wanted to admire his work but damn he felt a lil jealous that he worked so close to you. he finally looked at you only now noticing your reddish face

his face was just inches from yours, his previously shocked expression fading as he met your eyes. he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your jaw, and for a split second, everything around you felt quiet, just the two of you in that small space. he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though, breaking the tension as he nudged you lightly

“didn’t know you had it in ya to do somethin’ like that” he whispered.

before you could answer, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. his lips brushed yours, just a soft, teasing touch, before pulling back slightly with that same smirk. “couldn’t resist,” he muttered under his breath, and this time, when he kissed you again, it was longer, deeper—no more teasing, just the feeling of the moment taking over.

i’m currently such a sucker for time skip osamu he’s all i’m thinking about

[scurfi]

ok uhhh dr ratio with an s/o who is just as intelligent as he is

so when they have their first kiss, the reader gets so nervous that they start mumbling random facts about ancient egypt / etc. :3

Facts Between the Kisses

Summary: In the grand library of the Intelligentsia Guild, Ratio shares a rare moment of vulnerability with you, his equally brilliant partner. After hours of intense discussion, a surprising first kiss leaves you so flustered that you begin rambling about ancient Egyptian medical practices.

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Romantic Comedy, Kiss, Nervous Reader, Banter.

The Intelligentsia Guild's library was vast, a labyrinth of shelves and tomes brimming with knowledge. Ratio sat at one of its ornate desks, the golden owl ornament on his shoulder glinting in the low lamplight. His eyes, framed by his wavy hair, scanned the pages of an ancient manuscript. A faint smirk curled his lips as he heard the approaching footsteps—light, deliberate, and unmistakable.

“Late for our discussion on temporal mechanics, are we?” he said without looking up.

You grinned, stepping into view with a stack of books tucked under your arm. “Only because I was busy proving your theorem on recursive algorithms incomplete. Again.”

Ratio’s smirk deepened. “I expected no less from you. Care to enlighten me?”

You set your books down with a soft thud and leaned forward, gesturing at one of the diagrams in his manuscript. The two of you dove into an intense debate, trading ideas and insights like dueling swords. Your conversations were always this way: sharp, challenging, and utterly exhilarating.

After hours of discourse, the library grew quieter. The steady hum of your voices faded into a companionable silence as you both sat back, basking in the afterglow of shared brilliance.

Ratio’s gaze lingered on you, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “You know, it’s rare to find someone who can keep pace with me,” he said. His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

You laughed nervously, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Well, someone has to keep you grounded. Otherwise, your ego might collapse into a singularity.”

He chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Perhaps. But you’re not just an equal—you’re… more.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Before you could respond, Ratio leaned closer, his striking eyes locking onto yours. His confidence was palpable, but there was a hint of hesitation, as if he was stepping into uncharted territory.

“May I?” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he closed the distance. His lips brushed against yours, gentle at first, then firmer as the moment deepened. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that perfect, fleeting instant.

When you pulled back, your heart was racing, your thoughts a jumbled mess. Instead of saying something romantic or profound, your nerves got the better of you.

“Did you know the ancient Egyptians used honey as an antibacterial ointment?” you blurted out.

Ratio blinked, clearly caught off guard. You clapped a hand over your mouth, mortified, but the corners of his lips twitched into a grin.

“Fascinating,” he said, his tone teasing. “I assume this is your way of processing… overwhelming stimuli?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

He gently pried your hands away, his smile warm and uncharacteristically tender. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing.”

You gave him a skeptical look, but his gaze was so earnest that you couldn’t help but relax.

“Besides,” he continued, leaning back with a smug expression, “it’s fitting that our first kiss would be followed by a discussion on ancient medical practices. I wouldn’t expect anything less… unique from you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you adore me.” He reached for your hand, his touch sending a thrill through you. “Shall we continue our discussion? Perhaps this time, you can focus on me instead of ancient Egypt.”

Despite your embarrassment, you found yourself laughing. “Deal. But only if you can keep up.”

Ratio’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, my dear, I always do.”

[scurfi]

˚.🌺⋆ － RIDEEE THAT C★CK LIKE ITS A PONY !

୨ৎ paring : Sunday, Mydei, Mr Reca, Anaxa, Phainon x fem!reader.

୨ৎ warnings : nsfw/smut, creampie (vaginal), pussy slapping, cow girl, t!t fucking (mydei & Sunday), daddy kink (mr reca), nipple sucking, fingering, sub-ish Anaxa, thigh gripping, biting & others!

୨ৎ note : banner art is a doujinshi and you can find it on X from : sakuranotomoru !! also this is not proof read & dunno if it’s ooc.

𖤐 SUNDAY

The flickering candlelight cast an alluring glow over the room, where the scent of incense intertwined with the heavy atmosphere of desire. You found yourself on your knees before Sunday, his presence both intoxicating and commanding. His eyes, sharp and focused, glimmered with a mix of mischief and hunger as he watched you, the anticipation thickening the air around you.

“Look at you, so eager to please,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

You shivered at his words, feeling your heart race. Slowly, you climbed onto his lap, positioning yourself above his waiting cock. The moment you sank down, a gasp escaped your lips as you felt him stretch you wide, filling you completely. The delicious pressure made your breath hitch, your body trembling in response to the heat radiating between you.

“God, your pussy feels amazing,” he groaned, hands gripping your waist as he guided you to ride him. You began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out, combined with the way your walls clung to him, had you moaning softly.

Sunday leaned forward, his wings fluttering, his hands sliding up to your tits, squeezing them as he watched you bounce on his cock. “Your tits are perfect,” he groaned, pulling your soft flesh together around his shaft. The sight of his cock disappearing between your breasts drove him wild. He thrust forward, using your tits to pleasure himself, and you let out a breathy moan, the feeling of his cock gliding against your soft skin sending sparks of pleasure through you.

“Just like that, baby,” he encouraged, his voice low and gravelly. “I love how your body responds to me.” He thrust harder, each movement eliciting desperate sounds from you as you felt the heat build within.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the sweat glistening on your skin, the intensity of the moment heightening with each passing second. You looked up at him, your doe eyes filled with lust, and he met your gaze with a predatory glint. “You have the cutest fucked—up face,” he chuckled, driving his cock deeper into the warm embrace of your tits.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your pussy cream and pink with desire. “Please,” you whimpered, desperate for more.

“More, huh?” Sunday teased, pulling back and releasing your breasts with a wet sound that echoed in the room. “I think you need to earn it.”

Without hesitation, he shifted you onto your back, positioning himself between your legs. He didn’t waste any time; in one swift movement, he buried his cock deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim. The stretch was exquisite, and you gasped, the intensity of his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“You take me so well,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “Look at you, so full of me.” Each thrust was rough, almost punishing, but the thrill of being dominated by him only heightened your desire.

You could feel the pressure building in your core as he thrust deeper, your body responding eagerly to his every move. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to the raw energy between you.

“Do you like that?” Sunday taunted, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer, his movements relentless. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I love it! I—I love your cock,” you gasped, your words spilling from your lips as you surrendered to the pleasure. “Please don’t stop!”

He grinned, a wicked smile that sent a thrill down your spine. “I won’t, not until you’re completely wrecked.” His pace quickened, and you could feel the heat building within you, your body tightening around him as you approached the edge.

With each thrust, he pushed you closer to ecstasy, the sensations blurring into a heady mix of pleasure and pain. You felt your own climax building, desperate and wild, and you could hardly breathe as you got lost in the moment.

“Look at you,” he panted, his voice low and gravelly. “So fucked out and needy. I’m going to make you cum all over my cock.”

And just like that, with a few more powerful thrusts, you shattered around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out his name. The sensation of your walls tightening around him pushed him over the edge, and with a final thrust, he filled you with his cum, the heat spilling deep inside you.

As you both came down from the high, Sunday looked at you, breathless and satisfied. “You were incredible,” he said, a smirk still playing on his lips as he pulled out, the slickness between your legs evidence of your wild encounter.

You lay there, completely spent, feeling the remnants of pleasure coursing through your body, knowing this was just the beginning of your divine desires with Sunday.

As the pleasure subsided and the heat of the moment began to settle, you remained sprawled on the floor, your body still tingling with the aftereffects of his powerful thrusts. Sunday, still looming over you, was far from finished. He grinned down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief, and the sight sent a thrill through your core once more.

“Not done yet, sweet girl,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He grabbed your waist and pulled you back against him, his hands finding your skirt and tugging it up, exposing your bare thighs. “You’re so beautiful like this, all flustered and fucked out.”

Your doe eyes were wide and teary, reflecting the intensity of the pleasure you’d just experienced. “Please, Sunday,” you whimpered, your voice soft and desperate. “I need more.”

“Good,” he smiled, his grip tightening around your waist as he positioned you back on your knees. “I want to see those perfect tits wrapped around my cock again.”

With that, he guided you back down, placing your breasts together as he lined himself up. The heat of his cock against your skin made your heart race. “Wrap them around me,” he instructed, and you obeyed, squeezing your soft flesh together.

Sunday thrust forward, sliding his cock between your breasts, the friction sending electric jolts of pleasure through you. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as he picked up a steady rhythm, his cock gliding between your tits with a lewd, squelching sound. “Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this.”

You could feel the slickness of his pre-cum coating your skin, mixing with the heat radiating from your body. The sensation of his cock sliding between your tits made your cheeks flush, and you could hardly keep your eyes open as he pounded into you. Each thrust made your body jolt, and you felt the pressure building again, your body aching for release.

“Look at you, all teary-eyed and desperate,” Sunday said with a smirk, his gaze locked on your face. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Y—yes,” you stammered, your breath hitching as you felt your arousal pooling between your legs again. “I love it!”

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, and the words made you clench around nothing, desperate for more. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You complied, your eyes wide and glistening as you watched him use your tits. The way he dominated you, the sight of his cock slipping between your soft flesh, and the sound of skin meeting skin sent you spiraling. You could feel the heat radiating from your body, and every thrust brought you closer to the edge once again.

“Let’s make a mess, shall we?” he said with a wicked grin, and you nodded, your heart racing at the promise in his words.

With a few more powerful thrusts, he pulled back just enough to watch the sight of his cock glistening with your essence. “Now, I want you to lick it off,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority.

As he slid out, you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to catch every drop of his cum. The salty taste mixed with the sweetness of your own arousal, and you savored it, feeling utterly debased but completely satisfied.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, watching you intently as you cleaned his cock. “Now, let’s finish this.”

He positioned himself behind you once more, his hands gripping your hips as he lined up for another round. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the anticipation making your heart race. “This time, I want to feel you all around me,” he growled.

You squeezed your eyes shut, plump lips parting as another weak moan left you. Sunday’s fingers curled around your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His grip was firm—possessive. “Open your eyes.”

You did. Big, glossy, tear-streaked eyes met sharp yellow eyes. His smirk widened.

With that, he plunged back inside your aching pussy, the sensation causing your breath to hitch once again. The raw intensity of his thrusts had you gasping, your body responding eagerly to the dominance he exerted over you.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, thrusting deep and hard, every stroke hitting your sweet spot. You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling as you neared the edge once again.

“Look at those pretty eyes tearing up,” he taunted, his voice filled with lust. “You love this, don’t you? Being completely at my mercy?”

“Y—Yes! Please, don’t stop!” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as your walls tightened around him, urging him deeper.

“Then cum for me,” he commanded, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more desperate. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the air, and you could feel the pleasure building higher and higher until you felt completely overwhelmed.

With a final, deep thrust, he filled you once more, and you let go, your body shaking as you came around him. The world around you faded, leaving only the sensation of your release and the heat of his body against yours.

You collapsed against the floor, utterly spent, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as he finally pulled out. There was no aftercare, no gentle words or soothing touches—just the rawness of your encounter hanging in the air.

Sunday looked down at you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “You’re incredible,” he said, the lust still evident in his gaze. “Let’s do that again sometime.”

𖤐 MYDEI

Mydei’s golden gauntlets are already discarded, rough hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh as he spreads you open before him. His eyes burn, sharp and hungry, tracing over your flushed skin, the way your tits rise and fall with each breath.

“You know what to do,” he murmurs, voice low and commanding, his cock already hard, thick, and leaking against his stomach.

You sink to your knees between his legs, pressing your plush tits together, letting his cock rest heavy between them. His sharp breath makes you smirk, but before you can tease him, he takes control—strong hands pressing your breasts tighter around him as he begins to thrust.

The slick heat of his cock glides between your tits, each slow roll of his hips making the veins along his shaft stand out. Precum smears against your skin, and you flick your tongue out, catching the salty taste when he thrusts high enough. His grip tightens.

“Fuck—” he growls, head tilting back for just a second before his eyes snap down to yours again, molten and unforgiving. “You always look so damn pretty like this.”

You let out a little moan, eyes peering up at him through heavy lashes. He looks like a beast barely restrained, his sharp teeth gritted, his yellow mixed with red hair disheveled. But it’s the way he’s staring at you—like he’s ready to ruin you—that makes your creamy pussy ache, clit pulsing with need.

One of his hands slides down, grips your thigh, his fingers pressing into the softness as he yanks you upward. A gasp leaves you as he pulls you into his lap, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Then—his teeth sink in, sharp and claiming.

“Mydei—”

He soothes the bite with his tongue before moving up, kissing over your hips, your stomach, your tits. Then his mouth finds your nipple, sucking hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak until you’re whining, squirming in his grasp. His other hand slides down between your legs, fingers parting your slick folds, pressing against your clit.

“Dripping already,” he murmurs against your skin, teasing. “Needy little thing.”

You don’t get a chance to argue before he’s gripping your hips and guiding you down onto his cock. The stretch steals your breath, the thickness of him pushing deep into your pussy, filling you up inch by inch. Your thighs tremble as he bottoms out, your creamy slick coating his length as he pulls you down hard against him.

“Look at you,” he growls, watching the way your tits bounce as you move. “Taking my cock so fucking well.”

You try to control the pace, rolling your hips in slow circles, but he’s not patient. His hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you still as he thrusts up, filling you to the hilt, making your head tip back with a breathless moan.

“So deep—” you whimper, fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He grins, sharp and wolfish. “Then take it.”

His pace turns brutal, cock driving into your pussy over and over, each thrust hitting deep, sending pleasure pulsing through your core. His hands roam, gripping, kneading, pulling—possessive in every touch. He reaches between you, rubbing messy, desperate circles over your clit, forcing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Mydei—”

He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, swallowing your moans as he fucks you harder, deeper, until you’re trembling, walls clenching tight around him.

“That’s it,” he groans, feeling you flutter around his cock, chasing your release. “Cum for me—soak my cock, you filthy thing.”

And you do—legs shaking, body arching, pleasure crashing through you in thick, dizzying waves. Mydei isn’t far behind, his grip tightening as he buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a rough growl, his breath hot against your skin.

The air is thick with heat, your bodies still tangled together, his cock still buried deep inside your soaked, creamy pussy. His hands, still gripping your thighs, loosen slightly, smoothing over the marks he’s left behind.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, voice softer now, though the hunger never truly fades from his eyes. “You were made to take me.”

And you know, from the way his fingers trail lower again, that he’s not nearly finished with you yet.

Your breath comes in shallow pants, body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Mydei’s hands are warm on your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he steadies you on his lap. His cock twitches inside your creamy pussy, still thick, still hard, the heat of him a constant reminder that he’s far from done with you.

He lifts the hem of your skirt, fingers sliding over the fabric with a dark chuckle. “So short,” he murmurs, dragging the material up higher until it’s fully bunched around your waist. “You really came to me dressed like this? With your tits spilling out, your little skirt barely covering your ass?” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it—something possessive, something dangerous.

You whimper as he tugs you forward, pressing your chest to his face, his mouth latching onto your nipple again. His tongue flicks, sharp teeth grazing sensitive skin before he sucks hard, leaving another mark. His hands slide down, gripping the backs of your thighs, pressing you flush against him.

“N—No not like that,” Your voice is barely more than a gasp as he shifts beneath you, hips rolling up, his cock stretching you all over again.

He pulls back, breath hot against your skin. “What?” he taunts, voice rough. “Too much?”

You shake your head, doe eyes wide, already lost in the feel of him. His grip tightens, fingers bruising as he drags you down again, forcing you to take him even deeper. The stretch is overwhelming, his cock grinding against your sweet spot, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

“Good,” he breathes, hands sliding up your waist before gripping the sides of your skirt, using it to yank you down harder. “Because I’m not fucking done with you.”

His movements are rough, unforgiving. Your tits bounce with each thrust, his gaze locked onto them, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His fingers trail down between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight circles, making you jerk against him.

“Still so fucking wet,” he groans. “You love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you stupid in this little skirt?”

You can only nod, your head tilting back, moans spilling from your lips as pleasure coils deep in your belly. He keeps up his relentless pace, driving his cock into your soaked pussy, his fingers working your clit until you’re shaking, thighs trembling against his sides.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, voice rough, his free hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave marks. “Make a fuckin’ mess.”

The pleasure snaps, your walls clenching around his cock as another orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and all-consuming. Your nails dig into his shoulders, body jerking as the pleasure pulses through you.

Mydei groans, thrusting up once, twice more before burying himself deep, spilling inside you with a sharp growl. His grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place as he fills you to the brim, heat pooling deep inside you.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air. His hands smooth over your thighs now, more reverent than before, thumbs tracing over the marks he’s left behind.

His lips find your jaw, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss there. “Next time,” he murmurs, voice still thick with hunger, “I’m ripping this skirt off.”

𖤐 MR RECA

You straddled Reca’s lap, your thighs burning from how long you'd been riding him, but the pleasure made it impossible to stop. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you bounced on his cock, feeling every inch stretch you open again and again.

“That's it, sweetheart,” Reca groaned, his voice thick with arousal. “Taking me so well—like you were made for this.”

The praise sent heat rushing through your body, making your walls squeeze around him. He hissed, his grip tightening, nails digging into your soft flesh as he forced you down harder. The way he filled you was intoxicating, the deep, slow drag of his cock hitting all the right spots inside you. Every thrust sent pleasure sparking up your spine, leaving you dizzy and desperate for more.

You braced yourself against his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his uniform. “Daddy—feels so good,” you whimpered, grinding down against him, chasing that coil of heat tightening in your stomach.

Reca let out a low, satisfied chuckle, his golden eyes locked onto your flushed face. “Yeah? You love being stuffed full of Daddy’s cock?” His voice was rough, dripping with possession. One of his hands slid up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your hardened nipple, making you whine. “Look at you—so greedy for me.”

You nodded frantically, lost in the pleasure, your hips moving faster. The lewd sounds of your bodies meeting filled the air, slick and messy. Every bounce had his cock rubbing against that sweet, sensitive spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck—gonna cum,” you gasped, your nails dragging down his chest.

Reca groaned, his hands flying to your waist, holding you in place as he thrust up into you, hard and deep. The sudden force sent you over the edge, pleasure exploding through you as your walls clenched down around him. Your cries filled the room, your body trembling as you came undone in his arms.

“Good girl,” Reca growled, his movements growing erratic. He buried himself deep inside you with a final thrust, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, filling you with his warmth. He held you there, pressed flush against him, as his cum dripped from where you were still stretched around him.

You shuddered, feeling completely wrecked, your body weak and pliant in his grasp. Reca exhaled, his lips ghosting over your temple before pulling you close, his hands stroking over your sweat—slicked skin.

“You’re staying like this for a while,” he murmured, his voice still thick with lust. “Can’t waste a drop, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. Not when being full of him felt this good.

Your body trembled as you remained seated on Reca’s lap, his cock still buried deep inside you, keeping his cum right where he wanted it. Your breath was uneven, your skin slick with sweat, but the need pooling low in your stomach refused to fade.

You shifted slightly, feeling the stretch of him still inside you, the warmth of his release leaking out around his cock. A soft whimper slipped from your lips, and Reca’s hands, still resting on your waist, tensed. His golden eyes flicked up to yours, amusement curling at the edges of his gaze.

“Already getting needy again?” he murmured, his voice rough but undeniably smug. His fingers traced slow, teasing circles along your hips before gripping them tighter. “Didn’t get fucked hard enough, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip, a shiver running through you at his tone. “I just—” Your voice came out breathy, wrecked. You squirmed against him, chasing any friction you could get, feeling your overstimulated body spark back to life. “Daddy, I still want more…”

Reca exhaled sharply, his grip tightening, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you down, forcing you to take his cock deeper. The sensation made you whine, your body jolting at the sudden pressure inside you.

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over your ear before he nipped at the skin. “So desperate for me to fill you up again?” His hands trailed down to your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he forced you to grind against him.

The slow, torturous roll of your hips had you gasping, your body clenching around him, desperate for more. “Please,” you whimpered, your voice small, needy. “Want you to fuck me again, Daddy. Please.”

Reca groaned, his self-control snapping as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, keeping your legs spread wide around his waist. He loomed over you, red eyes dark with desire, his cock still deep inside you.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he growled, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force making you arch off the bed. “Since my needy little thing can’t go a second without being stuffed full.”

A sharp cry left your lips as he set a brutal pace, each thrust hitting so deep it left you gasping for air. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting, the mess between your legs, and the low, possessive groans spilling from Reca’s lips filled the room.

Your nails clawed at his shoulders, tears pricking at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. “F-Fuck—Daddy—”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed mockingly, his pace never slowing. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Begging me like a desperate little thing—now take it.”

Your body was on fire, every nerve lit up, the coil in your stomach twisting tighter with every thrust. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your walls squeezing around him desperately.

Reca groaned, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic. “Gonna cum for me again?” His voice was all dark amusement, knowing you were already falling apart beneath him.

You could only sob in response, nodding frantically as the pleasure became too much to bear. Your orgasm slammed into you, your entire body tensing as your walls clenched around his cock, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck—” Reca cursed, burying himself deep one last time as he came, his warmth spilling inside you again. His grip on you was bruising, his cock pulsing as he filled you to the brim.

For a moment, all you could do was lay there, panting, your body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Your skin was hot, slick with sweat, and your thighs ached from how hard he’d fucked you—but the dull, lingering throb of need refused to fade.

You could still feel him inside you, still thick, still warm, keeping his cum right where he wanted it. The way he filled you, the way his cock twitched ever so slightly, sent another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching against his shoulders as the ache inside you pulsed back to life.

Reca noticed. He always noticed.

Red eyes flicked down to you, sharp, knowing. His lips curled in amusement, his hands still possessively gripping your waist. “You’re not satisfied yet, are you?” His voice was low, smug, but laced with something darker—something hungry.

You squirmed beneath him, feeling the mess between your thighs, feeling how his cock, still buried deep, made you feel so full. You whined softly, a little embarrassed by how much you still wanted him, but you couldn't stop the way your hips rolled against him, your body chasing friction.

Reca groaned, his grip tightening, his patience slipping. “Greedy little thing,” he muttered, leaning in, his breath warm against your lips. “You were just wrecked on my cock, and you’re still squirming like a needy little slut?”

A shiver ran through you at his words, and you whimpered, your nails dragging over his arms. “I c-can’t help it,” you whispered, your voice wrecked, desperate. “I need more, Daddy.”

His eyes darkened, and before you could blink, he had you pinned completely beneath him, his chest pressing against yours, his cock sliding just a little deeper. The stretch, the fullness, made you gasp, your body arching up into him.

“You’re insatiable,” he growled, his hand sliding down to your swollen clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made your thighs tremble. “So fucking desperate to be used again, aren’t you?”

You moaned, nodding frantically, every nerve alight with overstimulation and raw need. “Please, Daddy,” you begged, your voice breathy, pleading. “I can take it. Want you to use me—want you to fill me again.”

Reca let out a low, dangerous chuckle, his fingers tightening around your throat just enough to make your breath hitch. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, rolling his hips, grinding his cock deeper, making you whine. “I’m not stopping until you break.”

And then he started fucking you again.

Brutal. Relentless. Giving you exactly what you begged for.

𖤐 ANAXA

The air was thick with anticipation as you found yourself straddling Anaxa, your heart racing with excitement. His hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers digging into your soft skin as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. The heat radiating from him sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel every inch of him as you sank down, gasping at the fullness.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed, his voice a mix of awe and desire, as you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow rhythm. The way his eyes darkened with pleasure urged you to pick up the pace. You loved seeing that vulnerable side of him, the way he bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure.

With each thrust, you felt the delicious pressure building within you, your clit brushing against him just right, heightening the pleasure. You leaned forward, pressing your tits against his chest, the sensation sending sparks through your body. Anaxa’s hands roamed over your curves, squeezing your breasts, each tug eliciting soft moans from your lips.

“Ride me harder,” he commanded, the edge of dominance creeping into his tone, igniting a fire deep within you. You complied, your body instinctively responding to his words as you quickened your pace, each movement drawing you closer to ecstasy.

Anaxa’s breath hitched, and his grip tightened as he matched your rhythm, thrusting upward to meet you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your shared moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed around you.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with both need and a hint of submission. You reveled in the sight of him lost in the moment, completely at your mercy. The power shifted between you, and you loved every second of it.

As the tension reached its peak, you could feel your orgasm approaching, an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. “I’m close,” you gasped, your movements becoming frantic as you chased your release. Anaxa’s response was immediate, urging you on with breathy encouragement, his desire fueling your own.

With one final thrust, the world around you blurred, and you fell over the edge, pleasure washing through you like a tidal wave. Anaxa followed closely behind, his own moan reverberating in your ears as he filled you, the heat of him spilling over into you.

You collapsed against him, panting heavily, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you. The heat of Anaxa’s body enveloped you, but you weren’t done yet. You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, your eyes filled with mischief.

“Did you really think I was done?” you teased, your voice sultry and playful. You began to lift yourself again, your walls clenching around him as you prepared to ride him harder.

Anaxa chuckled, a mixture of surprise and arousal flashing across his face. “You’re insatiable,” he replied, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you.

“Maybe I just like seeing you like this,” you shot back, smirking as you slammed back down onto him, relishing the deep growl that escaped his lips. The way he filled you sent your senses reeling, igniting an even greater hunger within you.

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasped, his eyes darkening with desire. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” you replied breathlessly, “I want you to lose control.” You began to move faster, riding him with abandon, your body responding to every thrust, every shift of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, and you could feel your clit throbbing as you chased another high.

Anaxa’s hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in as he pushed you down harder, thrusting up into you with fervor. “You’re such a good little rider,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Take it all. Show me how much you want it.”

“I want it all, Anaxa,” you breathed, throwing your head back, lost in the rhythm. “I want you to feel me. I want you to remember this.”

With every movement, you could feel the tension building again, your body coiling tighter as you pushed closer to the edge. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “I want to feel you cum inside me. Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your words igniting a primal fire in him.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his grip tightening as he thrust up hard, desperation in his movements. You rode him with everything you had, the sound of your moans mixing with his, the room filled with the rawness of your desire.

“I can feel you getting close,” you teased, your breath quickening. “Don’t you dare hold back. I want to feel every drop.”

“Then let’s finish together,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. You nodded, your body moving faster, urgency taking over as you both raced toward that precipice.

“Come for me, Anaxa,” you urged, your voice breathy. “I want to feel you.”

With one final thrust, he shattered, his body tensing as he spilled into you, the warmth washing over you as you cried out, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves. You both rode out the high together, lost in the bliss of the moment, every sound and sensation intensified.

𖤐 PHAINON

The dim light of the room wrapped around you like a silken sheet, casting soft shadows that danced on the walls. You could feel the electric tension in the air, a palpable heat that made your skin tingle. Phainon sat back against the edge of the bed, his intense gaze locked onto you, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. The sight of him, with his strong build and confident demeanor, sent a rush of desire through you, igniting a fire deep within.

With a sultry smile, you slowly approached him, your heels clicking softly against the floor. Each step accentuated your curves, drawing his eyes to your legs, which were showcased perfectly by the strappy heels. As you positioned yourself above him, the hard length of his cock pressed against your thighs, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. You could feel the ache pooling in your core, a desperate yearning for more. Phainon’s hands found your waist, his fingers digging in just enough to remind you of his strength, a promise of the pleasure to come.

“Look at you, all needy,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with desire. The way he said it sent shivers down your spine, making you crave him even more.

Ignoring his taunt, you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, a gasp escaping your lips as he filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming; your clit brushed against his base, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You felt so full, so alive, the connection between you two electrifying.

You began to ride him, starting slow to savor every moment as you adjusted to his size. Your hips moved with a deliberate rhythm, relishing the way he filled you, the sensation of his cock stretching you perfectly. Each movement ignited your senses, pushing you closer to the edge.

The sound of your bodies meeting filled the air, the soft thud of skin against skin mingling with your breathy moans. You could feel your tits bouncing with each thrust, the sight making Phainon’s eyes darken with lust. The sight of him watching you, completely entranced, only fueled your desire, making you more needy.

“P—Phainon,” you moaned, your voice breathless as you ground down harder, feeling the weight of your heels adding to the intoxicating mix of sensations. The pressure was building in your core, your body demanding more of him, more of this exquisite pleasure. You craved him, the way he filled you, the way his hands guided you deeper into ecstasy.

“Such a good girl for me,” he growled, his grip on your waist tightening, guiding your movements as he pushed you to ride him even harder. You could feel the heat pooling at the base of your spine, ready to explode as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies. Your clit throbbing, while your pussy clenched around his cock. With every thrust, the tension inside you wound tighter, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Just like that,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t hold back. Let go for me.”

You felt your heart racing, every nerve ending alive as you surrendered to the wave of pleasure crashing over you. The heat built to a fever pitch, your body screaming for release. You clung to him, the heels digging into his thighs as you rode him with wild abandon, desperate to reach that sweet release. You bit down your plump bottom lip, tears began to swell in your eyes while you looked at his eyes.

The sound of your moans filled the room, mixing with the slick sounds of your bodies moving together. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the ecstasy of being filled by him, of feeling every inch of him deep inside. You could feel the familiar tightening in your core, the way your body responded to his every thrust.

As you reached the edge, your moans grew louder, spilling out as you felt the rush of pleasure wash over you. “Phainon! I’m—” Your words were cut off by a cry of bliss as the wave crashed over you, sending you spiraling into euphoria. You cum milking his cock, as he moaned and whimpered, filling you up to bliss.

“Fuck, baby, we’re not done yet,” Phainon smirked, his hands gripping your ass as he gave it a rough squeeze. You whimpered, body trembling from the way his cock still throbbed inside your soaked pussy, thick cum dripping down your inner thighs.

Your legs burned from how long you’d been riding him, heels still strapped to your feet, the sheer stockings clinging to your sweat-slicked skin. Every movement had your sensitive clit brushing against his pelvis, sending sharp sparks of pleasure up your spine.

Phainon chuckled, watching the way your tits bounced with each shuddering breath. “Look at you, baby. So fucked-out, but I know you can take more,” he murmured, fingers dragging up your waist before he cupped your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“You’re gonna ride me until I’m satisfied,”he growled, hips thrusting up sharply, making you cry out as his cock pressed deep inside your overstimulated pussy. “So be a good girl and keep going.”

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[scurfi]

ᥫ᭡ THEIR KINKS / Jing Yuan, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Mr. Reca, Mydei, Phainon

contents: female reader / manhandling / wall sex / size kink / blindfolding / nipple play / fingering / gun play / cnc—consensual predator x prey roleplay / sub Mr. Reca / face slapping / degradation / bondage / oral fem receiving / established relationship / minors dni

JING YUAN—manhandling

There’s been rumour circling around, that general’s weapon was so heavy you needed multiple soldiers to carry it… and while it was all true, Jing Yuan himself could have handled it with just one hand.

The same way he could manhandle you.

He loved to exercise his strength over you, and was well aware you loved it just as much, if not more… that’s why it was no surprise when you found yourself in the current situation.

Spread on his bed, your legs bent almost down to your head, his hands on the undersides of your thighs to immobilize you this way and use you as a leverage simultaneously. To make it worse, his hips were angled in a way where he wasn’t fully resting his body on the mattress, but pushing himself into you with his feet dug into spongy surface and keeping his legs raised above your body, forcing you to take him fully so far up till your cervix was nudged with each fall of his body. His size didn’t help either, and all combined was driving you to the point of losing your faith—will you be allowed to think of anything not Jing Yuan related ever again?

The man pushing you to the limits you didn’t think you’d have to reach to start questioning your own wellbeing became all frenzy today; clearly has been thinking about you for entire day and needing to leave work early to fuck his darling until evening comes. Something was wrong with him, he was broken yet you didn’t carry confidence to ask why was he taking it out on you. And he didn’t need a real reason—deny him of your presence for too long and you’re not leaving until you’re assuming he’s the only man left, for him to have you ruined like this. Clingy, obsessed, horny? Whatever you wanted to describe him as, he’ll laugh it off with pride; just willing to prove you were so right.

“Jing Yuan!” you cried out, tears blurring your vision from the maddening force of his cock opening you up with every thrust, only for your walls to close down when pulling out and him having to open you again—a cruel cycle, leaving your legs shake. You’ve been made to take him, you took him everyday, and you still didn’t even know how to handle yourself each time.

“Yeah, darling?” he smiled lazily, teasing you with it at your messy state a little, but his voice was a different story—strangled and hissed through his teeth, having him curse everything on Loufu for the vicious grip of your heat that was only sucking him in from its tightness. “You’re too deep in…” you mewled. “I’m gonna feel you inside of me forever…”

Jing Yuan’s pace faltered for a second, something wicked glimmering in his eyes at your words, causing him to be even more attentive to your cries. The idea of leaving his shape imprinted inside your sweet and tight bliss, forever, every walk and breathe a reminder of the fact he was there and he’ll be there everyday inside of you, made his balls twitch and threaten to spill inside of you already. “Is that so, my precious? I think that should be our goal then. You already know how much you’re loved by me, but perhaps a reminder won’t hurt…”

You yelped, as you suddenly were being lifted into his strong arms with such an ease it was scary one could be this powerful, his fingers digging into your bottom’s flesh and forcing it to shape into his fingertips. He didn’t dare to pull out, forcing you to stay skewered on him, and you had to wrap your legs around his hips for balance. You were more surprised when he pushed your back against the wall of the bedroom.

“You better hold on tight, sweetheart. Not that I’d drop you,” he warned with a teasing and awfully sly smile (one you thought you’d see only during battle), not giving you much time to settle into the situation, as he was pushing you up and down right away, arching your upper body to rest against the wall. His forearms were holding you under your knees, further provided with his hands on your hips as if you weighed nothing.

“Jing Yuan—” you gasped, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You thought you were going to die here, because he didn’t even have to do much to startle you—he was bouncing you up and down, letting the gravity do the work as every fall down was having such an impact, making his thrust heavy and knocking your insides, and you had no gaps inside your pussy that were left alone when you were filled to the brim… with you feeling as if your body would have to carve extra space to accommodate his dick, maybe to stay this way forever. “What are you…” you moaned, and dug your nails into his skin; something that only encouraged Jing Yuan.

Your legs around his hips, your back against the will, and his muscular arms holding your body smoothly kept you in a safe position, but it wasn’t a fall you feared. No, you were so overwhelmed and never have been filled up by him this much, not even with usual size struggle. Regardless of the fact it didn’t hurt after you’ve been forced to adjust to his girth, you still thought you could barely breathe with how intense the experience was.

“Is my darling enjoying herself?” he asked softly, not matching the vehemence of the situation he put you in. You managed to only nod, but your face told him all he needed to know—you looked both delirious and in love.

You realized you were, in fact, liking everything—being manhandled was one thing, the idea to have a man strong for times you feel weak so soothing—but being so full of him was euphoric, leaving you with nothing to worry about other than having his shape branded inside your pussy. Every single nerve inside of you was stimulated to its fullest potential, his thickness forced a friction so intense it felt as if being scraped from the inside supported merely with a smooth glide from your wetness, and his cock filled you up so nicely you could or would cry.

He had you bent in half again, yet in ways you would have never thought of.

Jing Yuan held your gaze no matter of the gymnastics he’s been putting you through, forcing it to be locked with his. He observed you so intensely, your orgasmic face mostly, as if reading your thoughts; but with the occasional glance downward to see how far he’s been splitting you on his cock, forcing your folds apart and slapping his balls onto your ass when entirely sheathed in. You were full of him as you should be.

Despite the debauchery of the act, it was so intimate when he looked you in the eye, silently worshiping you and your expression when his face softened. You truly were his.

DR. RATIO—blindfolding

A planet Veritas came from had been mastering the art of love for centuries, sex included. To people like him, sex wasn’t something just animalistic to get off of to. No, it was a complicated, refined, calculated process of making love.

And Veritas wanted you to experience it all. He might take years to show you everything he wanted to offer, but such things meant only having you two bond together this beautifully for many years to come, a future really inviting to participate in.

Neither was you being under him any less deliberate, a black blindfold over your eyes to temporarily deny you of ability to see. The material was the softest he could have found, not willing to overstimulate you with something rough or itchy in your most sensitive moments. The blindfold was the only article on your bare body, with another fabric being soft sheets under your pliant form he kneeled next to.

“I want you to focus on my touch and tell me where my hands are,” he informed. His voice was calm, should he make your sensory denial lead you to be nervous. You nodded, feeling oddly safe in the situation, an immaculate amount of trust for him leaving you unshaken. “I will.”

Your breath hitched when his hand first skimmed from your abdomen, and he had to drum his fingers on you as a reminder to speak. “You’re touching me under my belly…”

He was across your midriff, “My waist…”, and under your breasts, “…Below my chest.”

He was right about the experience being more intense when you couldn’t see it. You were forced to focus on touch and sounds—his slightly elevated breathing from seeing your nudity and excitement to teach you, the softness of his big palm thanks to his favorite hand cream, his fingertips, the warmth of his hands that dragged themselves flat across your front.

“Good?” he asked in confirmation of you holding up, and you nodded, making him smile lightly. His both hands stroked your nipples gently as a next step of provoking your body, making them harden and making you exhale shakily; especially at his fingers fondling them with a small squeeze. “M-my nipples…”

For first time in a while, you weren’t desperate to quickly get to the main part. The sensuality of the moment was driving you desperate, but also left you wanting to drag it on for forever. There was no mindless lust in there, and you felt as if bed was liquid and you were becoming the liquid yourself, melting into the surface. You were so safe and stable, as long as he’s here. Slow touches melted you.

“And how does it feel? Does it hurt?” he inquired.

You shook your head, “No, it feels good, Veritas.”

Something about you sounding so soft and breathy, looking all delicate and vulnerable, trusting him to guide you safely through this journey, filled his chest with even more love for you. He leaned down to give you a kiss, oh-so-gentle to not be a bother to your heightened nerves. You mewled against his lips, lying pliant under him and letting him guide you again.

The kiss left your lips parted, Veri having molded your body numb you didn’t even want to close them or move. What you’ve wanted was only his touch, with just you two in the world.

You whimpered when his hand soon rubbed the inside of your thigh, and he carefully knocked your legs apart with his knee. The anticipation was high as the hand wandered higher, nearing a place you thought you no longer would handle with how sensitive sensory deprivation has shaped your body. “Veritas…”

“Yes, I’m here with you. Is it too much?”

It was too much but not in a way for you to need to stop—you just weren’t used to waves of pleasure trembling your body all across it and experiencing it so accumulated in individual spots other than just inside of you. “It’s a lot but I want you.”

You got a soft chuckle in response, and he finally pressed his finger against your clit, tapping it few times as if it was a button to press. Your hips squirmed, and your senses focused on thousands of nerves here being induced, as he waited for you to adjust to something akin to putting you on fire. “Just like this, settle down…” he muttered quietly.

Veritas leaned over your body, kissing your shoulder, before he slipped first thick finger into you.

AVENTURINE—gun play

The revolver you held in your hand didn’t contain any bullets, which didn’t make Aventurine any less high on adrenaline, his ears buzzing with blood rushing there.

You, straddling his hips and bouncing your naked body off of his, holding a revolver to his temple—there was no real threat but his body registered it, making his hands hold onto your hips shakily and his dick twitch inside of you. Could a man come just from the sense of risk? He had a feeling it was indeed possible. Even the creak of the bed or the sound of your skin hitting his was falling loudly on his ears and intensifying his nerves, as if every sound made him anticipate something bad coming.

“B-baby…” he moaned out shakily, “…you’re so wicked to be doing this…” His hand barely managed to move upwards to circle on your clit, mere mimicking of his learned language during sex, as he was too shaken up to do regular protocol and actually succeed.

The words got you pressing a gun even closer to his head, and speed up your ride. Your hand swatted his hand between your thighs away, with you deciding to do it yourself or you’d never orgasm. “Didn’t you ask for it? It’s not my fault you’re such an adrenaline freak,” you teased, though you were not any less affected. Not only has been his cock compelling you to feel good, it was also the power and risk (no matter if feigned) that got you all aroused. You let Aventurine practice his infatuation with risk-taking in a safer way than reality, but it didn’t feel safe in any way. “Can’t even keep up with me… can’t even do your share?” you mocked again.

Aventurine groaned pathetically, too prideful to admit you were right. He was busy with something else anyway—eyeing your hand intensely, as if watching out for the pull of the trigger. He wouldn’t get shot, but they did teach you to handle empty gun as loaded one for the reason—you might forget the barrel wasn’t empty and get killed. And that’s what his paranoid mind was telling him; that despite checking on his revolver thousands of time before you two had started your game, somehow you still forgot to empty it.

When you finally pulled the trigger and nothing happened, the same way nothing had happened when he used to gamble his life and play Russian roulette, he almost came on the spot, trashing under your body trapping his. You laughed, before you moaned as he pushed you down against his cock harder by your waist. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum from me acting as if I could have shot you?”

But you exposed yourself when you squeezed tightly on him after voicing out the idea, your hold on the revolver loosening, especially when your arm has been already cramping from keeping it in air for too long. “I guess you’re not any better,” he teased back, snapping his hips upward and making you scream silently; you were not suspecting Aventurine to be suddenly confident again. It seemed winning by not getting shot put him back on the right track.

“Your hand seems tired, why don’t you let me handle our weapon?” He grabbed the revolver from your hold, and put his arm up.

Soon, it was him aiming the revolver at your head, fucking you (thankfully) harder from below.

MR. RECA—degradation

Just because Reca was currently placed above you, your strong legs around his hips, breathing heavily against your ear, didn’t mean you weren’t the one in the position of power here.

Oh, how much he’s been craving for you to take charge every time you two were intimate, now matter how many times you’ve called him selfish for it (not that he wouldn’t enjoy it!). Today was no different, when you were calling him names from under him, mocking his hasty thrusts.

“You’re so desperate, Reca,” you said coldly and pushed your hips back at him, making him gasp at the sudden depth of his cock inside your pussy, all hugging him tightly. “Humping against me like a dog. Have you got no shame?” You could tell he was too overwhelmed to even put his entire length into your hole, thrusting only half of his cock into you.

“Hah… I’m sorry, dear… I cannot help myself when it comes to you!” he whined against your ear, his hands messily holding onto your waist to force your body to be thrusted into.

When you yanked his head up by his hair, for him to see that cold look to get off to, he was suddenly slapped in the face—on both sides for a good measure. “It’s ma’am when we’re at this.”

His stomach dropped in shame, his face stinging and swelling from the hit, yet it only made him move even faster—the pain and disrespect got him going, if not hoping to provoke you even further. “Y-yes, I’m sorry, ma’am!”

“You always say that only for you to do what you want,” you clicked your tongue. “It’s as if you’re doing this on purpose, wanting me to put you in your place,” you scoffed with disgust. He both hated and loved how your voice could stay composed even when he was making you feel good, as if you actually were bored and he was just a desperate virgin using a sex toy. No matter how degrading it was to have his efforts look pointless, it only made him more motivated to gain your approval. He strived to make you proud and have you reward him later.

But half-assed thrusts weren’t satisfying enough, if he was eager for your acknowledgment. Your legs around his hips moved lower and dug their heels into his ass, forcing him closer.

“Wait—” With you not letting him go, he was inside of you fully, making it way too intense for him. He could only do little thrusts with limited movement but those grinds were worse when you took him to the base—a fault of the fact his cock was sensitive not just in his tip but all over.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were desperate. Or do you want me to stop?” you asked with a cruel grin, making him moan just at the sight, and even more panicked at the idea of stopping.

“No, ma’am!” Reca then buried his face into your neck again, unable to handle the pressure of your pussy. “Thank you… it just feels so good…” he groaned, panting against your ear like a shameful creature.

“It always feels good, doesn’t it? Because you’d like everything I do, no matter how painful or degrading,” you mocked with a laugh, sparking another embarrassing for him to admit truth.

“I can’t help it… I love you so much,” he murmured into your skin, making you sigh.

A rare moment of softness from you during these scenarios, you rubbed his back, gently scratching the skin at that. He kissed your neck with a smile, slowing down on his grinds for a moment of rest, until you were pulling on his hair again, this time smashing your lips with his.

Yes, his beloved was so merciful.

MYDEI—primal play

While Mydei had sworn to never, ever hurt you, he was still a warrior through and through. It was no accident why a game you have proposed one day filled him with nothing but a battlefreak’s excitement. For next few hours, you’re no different from any of his enemies—he’ll strike you down in a way or another.

A chase through ruins of Kremnos, a place he picked specifically for no one to disturb you… if there’s any Nikador’s titankin anywhere, he’d kill it first.

Obviously, Mydei’s speed and agility were much better than yours, therefore he made sure to slow down his ru to not spoil the race too quickly—which didn’t make the situation any less exciting. When you turned around the corner to enter one of the largest rooms to hide somewhere behind tall furniture, feeling your heart pound so hard out of your chest you couldn’t tell if it was excitement, fear, or both; he suddenly yelled behind you and laughed, his low voice booming against the walls. You cursed as you knew he was getting close, ruining your any plans of escape whatsoever.

“You know there’s no escape from me, prey. Once I catch you, you’re not getting anywhere until I had my fill!”

You didn’t ease on your legs after hearing his words, only sprinted faster to avoid being pounced on by your hunter. You were very hopeful when you saw a small window, now devoid of glass, one you thought you could jump through to the ground outside—needing this to catch a small break before you’d be on the run again, as your lungs burn, allowing you to barely catch any oxygen in.

Your hopes were shattered when you were being suddenly tackled to the hard tiles, not expecting for Mydei to be behind you already—you didn’t notice any sound foretelling his approach!

He had enough decency to put a hand under your forehead when you fell, not wishing for his lover to end up with a cracked skull over some game… even if your arms and legs got scraped where your clothes didn’t hide you—all raw-feeling only made it better anyway.

“Caught you,” he said with a wicked smile, his heavy body above yours forced to rest face down, your head only tilted to the side for some resemblance of control of your demise by seeing his face.

Mydei was looking at you as if you were an actual prey that it got you worried for a moment—have he mistook you for one? Thankfully, he wiped your tears you didn’t realize you had already, a silent sign he was still in control; enough to not break the act.

“Little thing for a lion to eat. I wonder if such small creature can even take me… oh, but I’ll surely get enough from you,” he grinned.

You trashed under him, hiding an excitement at the idea of struggle and him forcing you into submission and crushing you until you’re shaking on these tiles and leaking his cum from your red and irritated hole. “Let me go!” your cries echoed through empty space, with no one to save you from this monster. Forced to rely on your most basic instincts, your anxious chest acted as if you actually were in danger.

“Stay still, or I’ll fuck you even harder,” he warned, a threat only going down to the twitch between your legs, and suddenly tore your bottom clothes apart, making you flinch at the sudden cold against your pussy. You were very glad he removed his armor for this chase—otherwise he’d have torn your skin apart too.

Mydei his pants down with a scary speed, his other hand pinning your wrists above your head. The struggle made you feel uneven rocks dig into your stomach under, but with the adrenaline in your veins you registered no pain. “No! You can’t do this!” you said frantically, making him laugh, as he already has noticed the wet state between your ass cheeks. “Your own body betrays you and you dare to lie to my face. I should punish you for this as well.”

And when your legs kicked trying to hit his back, he forced his body to lay on top of you harder, his legs between yours, making you feel as if you’d choke from how heavy he was as if you weren’t still breathless. With this placement, you felt his obnoxiously hard and big cock pressed against your weeping hole, his tip catching against your clit as he started to drag it across your slit to force out more slick. It was the only foreplay you’d receive to keep the act naturally spontaneous, and so you hissed from a sting when he suddenly pushed his hot dick inside of you from behind, stretching your walls and forcing them to take the whole thing too violently to your own body’s pace of making up space for him it almost hurt.

Mydei cursed when you tightened from the scream at his brutality. He let go of your wrists for you to dig your nails into the ground, and squeezed your hip with one hand and nape with the other in hard pressure, not letting you up by even an inch; with that, scratching your face against rough ground in result. This one gesture actually ached even if your hole didn’t, with him almost straining your hipbone and spine. But you were so full, the built up excitement threatening to make you cum already, and you wanted him to take you right here, as if you truly were a prey he caught. “Stupid little thing… you have a long night ahead of you,” the triumph over successful hunt was clear in his voice. The surge of power he felt over you and your weak body, way too easy for him to break if he was to choose to, he’ll remember about it every time he sees your legs limp tomorrow.

Not daring to deny himself of feasting on his prize, he began fucking your prone form immediately; even faster when you were screaming and moaning for the sound to jump off of the walls, relishing in the begs of his meal and prey to stop and not hurt them. With the sweat on your skin from the prior exercise, the skin clapping was even louder and caused your skin to burn, soon to be chaffed too.

You now knew what it feel like to be on the receiving side of his anger and prowess, making you feel as despised as his enemies he promised to kill no matter how many he’d have to face.

You were crying into the floor, but only for Mydeimos and for more of his barbarity to be drawn out of him. You’ll become the target to his fatal blows of thrusts, until you pass out as if he actually has launched the final attack.

PHAINON—bondage

The idea of Phainon having a chance to bind you in ropes has been circling his mind for a while. It wasn’t to dare to go as shamefully as to make you feel uncomfortable or trapped… the opposite—he saw it as a way of strengthening the sense of trust between you two, and you giving yourself to him so willingly, a proof of the mutual lovers’ devotion between you and him.

You exhaled out deeply when he ended tying ropes of silk ribbons around you, the cold fabric chilling you with a shudder sliding downward of your spine your body rested on; getting your body hair to poke air outward. He was kind enough to pick something in your favorite shade, to make it more comfortable and familiar… not to mention more resembling of you for him to admire.

The ribbons had your arms forced to stick firmly to your sides, wrapped around your chest to connect. Other spread of the ribbon tied your thighs to your calves, on each sides. You for sure couldn’t get anywhere like this, yet Phainon still got you comfortable with a soft pillow for your head to rest on.

And while you were somewhat nervous at amplified vulnerability, one bigger than your nudity would bring, Phainon tried to make the process as smooth as possible. He’s read a lot about how to tie you, not willing to cause your body any harm or discomfort, and he wouldn’t hesitate to pause in case something arises.

He let the small look of excitement and curiosity in your eyes lead him further. “Beautiful…” he marveled at the sight of you offered to him on bed this way, wrapped in silk as if you were a gift for him sent from heavens. Each stripe squeezed your flesh gently, spilling out its curves and softness, letting him love little cellulite dips even more. The color of the material was perfect for your skin tone as well, another match made in heaven. “Thank you for letting me do this, my love. I shall not disappoint you.”

Crawling between your legs, he grabbed your hand to kiss, lifting it up for you when you couldn’t move your arms up. “Relax… I’ve got you.” His lips wandered up your arm, skimming through silk, trailing to your shoulders. You exhaled shakily, feeling tad riled up by delicate smooches, ones leaving pleasant prickles of pleasure. With a tilt of your back as result, Phainon kissed over your neck and throat, lingering here to leave a small mark to decorate your skin in addition to the wrapping.

You whimpered at his lips now wrapped around your nipple, followed by a moan when his finger gently rubbed your clit between your wide open thighs, with you unable to escape this pleasure. “I know you’ll be out of these eventually… but I truly enjoy how much they make you stay with me, love,” he whispered into your breast, his fingers gently teasing your petals and parting them with two. Feeling generous of his love today, he left a little nibble on your chest to remind you of this beautiful experience when you’ll bathe with him later.

You squirmed like a precious darling of his, almost overstimulated already from how slow-paced everything became. Your body was hyper-aware of every touch when you couldn’t release your tension in tied up restriction.

You made him chuckle, “That sensitive already? I hope you can handle a bit more. You can, don’t you, darling?”

When you nodded, he smiled encouraging you to give in a bit more, and lowered his body to be between your legs. He had to take advantage of binds keeping you in place, to see how little or a lot you can handle when you are at his mercy and entrusting him with your body. A soft sigh left his lips when he saw a little pool of wetness gathering inside your hole.

Just a small dip of his tongue inside got you to trash if you couldn’t grab onto his hair like you usually would want to. You could have only gathered sheets of the bed to hold, with your arms forced down to stay in straight line. “Phainon…” you moaned his name, a hint of pleading. When your eyes lowered to see him, the tormentor of your nervous system, your stomach churned at the sharp-edged focus on his face. Oh, you had no doubt he’d keep you question your own beliefs about him any time now.

“I know, you’re already doing so good for me,” he praised, and licked a stripe up your slit to suckle on your clit like a candy. As an instinct, you tried to wrap your thighs around his head, only to be stuck with your legs bent to your body. You cried out in frustration, and Phainon hushed you quietly.

“No need to struggle. I just want you to focus on what I’m doing to you, not fighting to get out of these. Alright?”

“Y-yes… just, please, don’t tease me more…”

“Tease you?” he laughed, his voice so pretty on your ears you wished you could kiss him again: even if you were catching up with hidden intention he was slowly revealing to you. “I just make sure to not overwhelm you. But if that’s not enough for you…” he left the word hanging in the air, before he was slurping at your wetness with twice of vigor.

When you threw your head back, it was only Phainon on your mind, conceiving a worry if you’d receive any leniency tonight. You still had a lot to learn about him, it seemed to the case.

Can you tell my favorite on the list… 🤭

[scurfi]

you storm out in the middle of an argument

pairings: gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader, toji x reader

GOJO - the second you stormed out, gojo was right behind you.

you heard his footsteps almost immediately, quick and determined. of course, he wasn’t going to just let you go—not without a fight.

“leave me alone, gojo,” you snapped over your shoulder, picking up your pace.

“nope.”

you groaned. “i need space.”

“i need you to not walk around alone at night,” he countered, effortlessly keeping up.

you whirled around, frustration bubbling over. “i can protect myself.”

gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know you can. you’re strong, way too strong for me, honestly—i think about it all the time, actually, how you could probably throw me into the sun if you really tried—”

“gojo.”

“right, right, focus.” he exhaled. “i know you can handle yourself. that’s not the point. i just—please, come back home.”

you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. gojo loved your stubbornness—adored it, actually. but right now, he just wished you’d listen to him.

when you didn’t say anything, he groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “come on—don’t make me get on my knees.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“oh, i would. right here. in the middle of the street.”

you rolled your eyes, turning to keep walking. when you finally took in your surroundings. without even realizing it, you’d walked all the way to a 7-eleven.

gojo followed your gaze, then brightened immediately. “oh? a sign from the heavens?” he turned to you with a grin. “ramen?”

you sighed, and gojo, ever the opportunist, pressed on. “my treat.”

“you always pay,” you deadpanned.

“exactly! so, technically, i didn’t even have to say that—but i did, because i’m a generous and loving boyfriend.”

you exhaled, shaking your head. “…yeah, okay.”

gojo beamed like you had just accepted a marriage proposal. “knew you couldn’t resist me.”

you shot him a glare, but he just threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you inside like you hadn’t just been arguing minutes ago.

as he grabbed entirely too many snacks, sneaking extras into your basket with a shit-eating grin, you felt the weight in your chest ease just a little.

you weren’t done being mad at him—not completely. but as he stood beside you at the register, arms full of junk food, nudging you with his elbow like a lovesick fool, you realized—

yeah. you’d be okay.

GETO - suguru doesn’t stop you.

not because he doesn’t care—no, quite the opposite. he watches as you grab your coat, as you storm out, and he lets you go. he knows you need space, and he respects that.

but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to find you.

you don’t know how long you’ve been walking, the frustration from your argument still lingering, but eventually, you find yourself stopping by a quiet street corner. you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face, trying to steady your thoughts—

and then you hear it. a smooth, familiar voice from behind you.

“you’re really making me work for it tonight, huh?”

you whip around, only to see geto standing there, hands tucked casually into his sleeves, watching you with that unreadable expression of his.

you glare. “how did you even find me?”

he tilts his head, amused. “you’re predictable.”

you huff, crossing your arms. “if you’re here to drag me home, don’t bother.”

geto steps closer, slow and easy. “i’m not dragging you anywhere.”

you raise an eyebrow. “then what do you want?”

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “you’re upset. i get it. but you know i hate leaving things like this.” he steps beside you, hands still tucked into his sleeves. “so, i figured i’d come find you.”

you don’t answer right away, staring at the ground. then, without warning, your eyes begin to sting. you blink rapidly, willing the tears away, but it’s too late—geto sees it instantly.

his expression shifts, the tension in his shoulders vanishing in an instant. before you can turn away, he’s already in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks with the kind of gentleness that makes your chest ache.

“hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, tilting your face up to him. “don’t cry.” his thumbs brush lightly under your eyes, catching the first traces of tears. “look at me.”

you do, even though it only makes your throat feel tighter.

his brows furrow, guilt flashing across his face. “i’m sorry, okay?” his voice is soft, sincere. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

you swallow hard, blinking up at him. “…you were being an ass.”

a small, breathy chuckle leaves him. “yeah,” he admits. “i was.”

you sniff, and he immediately wipes away another tear before it can fall, his touch warm and steady. “but i didn’t mean to be,” he continues. “you know that, right?”

you nod.

geto exhales, relief evident in his expression. his hands don’t leave your face, his thumbs still tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“come home?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you glance away, mumbling, “still mad.”

“i know.” his lips quirk into a small smile. “you can be mad at me at home, too.”

a pause. then, finally—

“okay.”

he doesn’t say anything, just lets his forehead rest lightly against yours for a moment before taking your hand in his, squeezing it once before leading you back home.

NANAMI - the argument had left a bitter weight in your chest, one that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you wanted to. the walls of your shared home felt too tight, too suffocating, so you did the only thing that made sense—you grabbed your coat and walked out.

you didn’t have a destination in mind, just the simple need to move, to put some distance between you and the words that had been thrown too carelessly.

at first, you thought you were alone. but then, a few blocks in, you heard it—steady, familiar footsteps trailing behind you.

you sighed. “kento.”

a pause. “hm?”

you turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder. sure enough, he was there. hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, but present nonetheless. he didn’t try to walk beside you, didn’t call your name or tell you to come home—he was just there.

“you don’t have to follow me,” you muttered.

nanami exhaled slowly, adjusting his tie as he kept his pace behind you. “i know.”

and yet, he didn’t stop.

you didn’t push him away, either.

the night air was crisp, the streets quiet save for the occasional car passing by. you walked, and he followed. neither of you spoke. the argument still lingered between you, raw and unhealed, but for some reason, his quiet presence made it easier to breathe.

eventually, your feet carried you to the park. it was empty this late, just dimly lit by a few scattered streetlights. you found yourself heading toward the swing set, your steps slowing as you lowered yourself onto one of the swings. the chains creaked slightly under your weight.

nanami hesitated for only a second before taking the swing next to you. he didn’t say anything, just sat there, hands resting on his thighs, eyes fixed ahead.

the silence stretched, not uncomfortable, just… there.

after a long moment, you broke it.

“we’re going to be okay, right?” your voice was quieter than you intended, but you didn’t correct it.

nanami didn’t answer immediately. he let out a slow breath.

“yeah,” he said, firm, certain. “we’re going to be okay.”

and for the first time since the argument, you let yourself believe it.

SUKUNA - the door had barely swung shut before you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

you had barely made it down the front steps when a clawed hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you to a stop.

sukuna’s grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—unrelenting. “where do you think you’re going?” his voice was low, edged with something unreadable.

you didn’t turn to face him. “i need to cool off.”

his fingers twitched against your skin. “tch. you can cool off inside.”

you exhaled sharply, attempting to pull away, but he didn’t let you. his grip remained steady, grounding. “i don’t want to be inside right now, sukuna.”

“and i don’t want you wandering off alone.”

you finally turned, eyes burning with frustration. “i can take care of myself.”

his expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his crimson gaze. “i know you can.” his tone softened, just barely. “that’s not the point.”

silence settled between you, tense and heavy. the night air was cool against your skin, the world around you quiet. your breathing was uneven, your heart still pounding from the argument. you wanted to be stubborn, to keep walking just to prove a point.

but sukuna didn’t let go.

for a long moment, he just looked at you. not with anger, not with amusement—just quiet, unreadable intensity. and then, after a sigh that sounded almost reluctant, his grip loosened. his hand slid down to take yours, fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt less like restraint and more like holding on.

“come back inside,” he muttered. his voice wasn’t commanding, not like before. it was something else. something almost pleading.

you hesitated, still upset, still wanting to fight. but his hand was warm, solid, there. the fight had drained out of you, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

after a long pause, you sighed, giving his fingers a small squeeze before turning back toward the house.

sukuna didn’t say anything, just followed beside you, his hand never leaving yours. when you stepped inside, he made sure the door was locked behind you, his movements slow, deliberate. neither of you spoke as he guided you toward the bedroom, the silence no longer suffocating but something quieter, softer.

the argument wasn’t over. you weren’t ready to let it go. but as sukuna’s grip lingered, steady and sure, you knew—

you two were going to be okay.

TOJI - toji doesn’t follow you. at least, not right away.

he watches as you storm out, jaw clenched, arms crossed, your anger still crackling in the air like static. he lets you leave, doesn’t call after you, doesn’t chase you down. he just sits there, rubbing a hand over his face with a deep sigh.

but after a few minutes, he clicks his tongue, grabs his jacket, and heads out after you.

he knows you—knows you’re stubborn, knows you need space, but he also knows it’s late, and he’ll be damned if he lets you wander around alone.

it doesn’t take long to find you. you’re sitting on a bench at some quiet little bus stop, arms hugged around yourself, your knee bouncing impatiently. toji exhales, shoving his hands in his pockets as he makes his way over.

you glance up when he steps in front of you, glaring. “go away.”

“not happening,” he says flatly.

you scoff, turning your head. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

“good,” he deadpans. “cause i ain’t here to talk.”

you blink, caught off guard, looking at him. he just shrugs. “you needed space, so i gave it to ya. now i’m just gonna sit here and shut up.”

and with that, toji plops down onto the bench next to you, spreading his legs wide, leaning back like this is the most natural thing in the world.

you stare at him. “you’re kidding.”

“nah.” he closes his eyes, tilting his head back. “go on. be mad.”

you are mad. but suddenly, it feels a little ridiculous.

the two of you sit there in silence, the sounds of the city buzzing faintly in the distance. the weight of the argument still lingers, but toji’s presence, solid and unshaken, makes it feel smaller. like it’s not going to swallow you whole.

after a while, he cracks an eye open, side-eyeing you. “you done sulking yet?”

you huff. “i’m not sulking.”

“yeah, yeah.” he stretches, rolling his shoulders. “c’mon. let’s go.”

you hesitate. “i dunno…”

he stands up, glancing down at you. “i’ll buy you food.”

you squint. “bribery?”

toji smirks. “call it what ya want. just get up.”

you sigh, but when he holds a hand out to you, you take it. his grip is warm, steady, and when he tugs you to your feet, he doesn’t let go.

“where are we going?” you mumble.

“dunno.” he shrugs. “we’ll figure it out.”

and somehow, that’s enough.