stqrbov

[stqrbov]

I could kiss your brain, devour it, and every time I see your work, I know it would be excellent like ily. 😭💕

The tension between Satoru and reader was 😽😽

eleusinian mysteries

DAY 7 ⇢ Gangbang Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader x Toji Fushiguro x Kento Nanami x Choso Kamo Word count: 4k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; gangbang; oral sex (F & M receive); p-in-v; anal sex (F receive only); pure filth; fingering; cunnilingus; rimming; deepthroat/throatfucking; praise kink; protected sex; ass slaping (like once); pet names (each one calls you differently); basically 4 men 1 female gangbang Summary: How did you find yourself passed around by four men might remain a mystery; at least it's off of your bucket list now. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Hosted by: @lemonlover1110 @violetsaffron5 @septembersums @ayyy-pee and @xo2dee. Divider is mine. A/N: With NSFW Week oficially over with this piece, I wanted to give special thanks to the radiant Fae (@kennedyswhore) for her unconditional support [that kept me from dropping the event], sublime Kit (@vagabond-umlaut) for her encouraging and kind words (that subconciously pushed me to finish each piece), Karma (@kazushawty) who infected my mind with her filth (in a good way) that resulted in this mess (and kudos to her tutorial for this GIF) and to you, who's reading this [series]. Thank you for the support! ♡

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There's a thin line between reality and a dream – which can easily be blurred. Especially when the present blends with the past and gets a hold of the future within its grasp.

"What's this?"

Satoru lies spread wide on the bed; torso bared to the world and stretched out, his physique like an invitation to explore. Especially with the way the moon casts its shine onto the mop of silvery strands that crown his head.

With a soft sigh, you position one knee on the plush expanse of the bed, flicking your eyes on your lover. His curious fingers dance towards the petite diary on your nightstand; a beacon of secret desires nestled in the soft glow of tonight's moonlight.

"A journal," you reply, "of sorts," the mumble that leaves your lips is faint, tinged with skepticism. Unease. Shame maybe – even.

"Can I?" With the book already ensconced in his slender fingers, he throws you a questioning look. Seeks your permission. Your silent approval is conveyed through a gentle dip of your chin.

Satoru unfurls the pages. Flips through them. Hair clinging to his forehead, eyes darting across each paragraph and list; he takes his time reading, studying each entry. Flipping through the pages, you notice the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he reaches the last page.

The last page.

There are no hidden feelings between you. You are an open book for him – now in a more literal sense than ever before.

"This page's interesting," he mumbles to himself, yet his words reach your ears clearly. And you know what he means. A warm flush sweeps across your cheeks, causing your eyes to divert towards the sheets, where your nervous fingers fiddle with the fabric, "is this a bucket list?"

His utterance is clear, and you grasp the implication quickly.

"Yeah, well, everyone has dreams."

You feel the bed on your side dip. Satoru shifts, sits up, the sheets cascading around his lithe waist. Warm breath fans over your cheeks, adding fuel to the fire smoldering beneath your skin. His hand finds its way onto your exposed thigh, thumb caressing the damp skin.

"Yours are rather," searching for the right descriptor, the hand that was on your thigh now slips underneath your chin, gently lifting it to align your gaze with the deep, cerulean depths of his eyes, "provocative."

Filthy. That'd be more fitting, you think.

The answer on the tip of your tongue refuses to budge.

"I like that," he adds after a while. "And if you want," sitting straight, his face now stands in front of you, a breath away, "we can do number three now."

When you don't respond – only watch his face inch closer, lips hover over the curve of yours – he licks a thin stripe across your lower lip.

"And I can arrange number seven if you want," he mumbles against your lips, pushing your face towards his.

How such a simple conversation led to this will probably remain a bit of a head–scratcher. How Satoru managed to have all of them agree to this will be a mystery. Maybe he has a knack for bringing out people's hidden desires or a way of making everyone comfortable enough to do this.

But these thoughts don't really stick in your mind. Especially with the way Nanami's tongue continues to lick thick stripes over your drenched walls. Back flat against the table, legs up and spread wide. Toji keeps a vice grip on one of your ankles with Choso gripping the other one – the two men keeping your legs open for the blonde man to devour you comfortably.

You'd never imagine there would be a day when all of them would see you like this.

And that there would come a day when you discover the taste of each of their lips; the unique sensation each of their kiss can bring.

Satoru you were familiar with – hungry. Sloppy. Messy. Remaining filled with passion even after years of familiarity. Holding your face with both his hands, cradling your cheeks. Like the first plunge into a lukewarm sea that turns into swirling foam – enveloping and capricious. He always speaks with his entire body; grinding up against you and wrapping his arms around your back. A boisterous lover.

Nanami – Nanami's kiss, on the other hand, is a contrast to Satoru's intensity. It's precise, measured, and full of depth. A slow dance of passion; like the waltz. His hand comes to your face and cups your chin, lifting your head up just the slightest amount of space so that when his lips meet yours, they nestle in there perfectly. His lips meet yours with a calculated tenderness. There's a sense of control and mastery in his kiss, and it leaves you with a feeling of being cherished and understood.

Toji – like a storm. Wild and untamed, coming out of nowhere with an intensity that left you breathless. An untamed force that sweeps you off your feet. Fingers gripping your chin with iron strength, thumb pushing against your lower lip to part for him more. Tongue both demanding and teasing, as if he can't decide whether to be gentle or let the beast out. The taste of danger and desire both eminent on his lips.

And Choso – the perfect blend of sweetness and ardor. His kiss is unexpectedly tender, considering his broad, rough exterior. A hand resting on your nape, not pushing or anything, with the other sliding up and down your arm; making you feel like he had waited a lifetime for this moment and wanted to savor the warmth of your skin under his palms. He tastes like moonlight on bare skin.

So when all four kiss you, the sensation is a whirlwind – a summer storm. A combination of the intensity of Satoru's kiss, the depth of Nanami's, the wildness of Toji's, and the tenderness of Choso's.

"Mmph–fuck," Toji rumbles, teeth showing in a grimace as nails dig into the flesh of your calf. Your fingers tighten around his base when you feel Nanami's fingertips collect your wetness, spread your lips apart before his finger teases your open hole.

You want to answer, urge Nanami to finally let go of the restraints – feeling like hours have passed since he went down on his knees and buried his face between your legs. Yet it's hard to do so when Satoru's cock plunges into your mouth. So deep in your mouth that you can barely breathe as he thrusts it into you; our lips and the back of your throat rubbing raw against its pulsing flesh. You feel him hit a soft barrier and push harder.

Hands slide across your chest. Slick with saliva before the softness of someone's lips envelops one of your nipples. A kiss, soon followed by a nip of teeth. Gentle, exploring – Choso, you guess. Compared to how Toji keeps squeezing the other one. All rough and fast, his thumb flicking over your erect nipple whenever your finger presses against his slit.

"Daamn, baby," you pick up Satoru's mumbles. And with your head thrown over the table's edge, you manage to look up. To see the underside of his chin, see how he's looking up; how his hand continues to caress your hollowing cheek, thumb collecting the tears that spill over your waterline.

A moan slips past the tight seal of your lips when Nanami's finger is finally buried all the way inside your drenched cunt. You arch against him, hips grinding against his moving hand before another one presses down onto your lower belly.

"Don't move, love," Nanami's voice echoes, hot breath skittering over your wet folds moving to your aching nub, "just let me prep you."

You tighten your grip – both of them – which only earns you deep grunts. Choso's teeth swipe over the tender flesh of your breast, over the soon-to-be bruise forming upon his attack. Tongue swirling over the silk-soft skin, making it stiffen with prickly heat. Your moan and twitch at the touch.

Toji flicks your nipple, rolls it between his fingers. Eyes drawn onto the sight before him. On the way your body lies completely bared; body offered on a platter of lustful ecstasy, like a sacred offering.

As Nanami's hand slides inside of you, heat spreads through every inch of your body. His fingers are merciless, relentlessly adding another finger and curling them both up to press against your walls. Searching for that sweet spot, that one point of ecstasy that will have you seeing stars.

"Baby," Satoru whines, thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth to draw your attention to him, "gonna cum. Think you can swallow me?"

Your hands continue to slide up and down Choso's and Toji's cocks, each on either side of you. Satoru stops moving, the throbbing tip of his cock resting on your upper palate. Your tongue swipes over his leaking slit, collecting the briny, pearlescent droplets before swallowing.

"Mhm," you attempt to nod, taking a deep breath through your nose.

"Good," Satoru responds, holding you in place by digging his fingers into the nape of your neck as his cock expands against your throat walls, pushing every nerve ending until a burning pleasure washes over you.

You can feel the heat spreading through your body, coalescing in the space between your legs.

Nanami's fingers continue to massage your walls, pressing against that slightly ridged spot deep inside – the one that tightens your throat, makes you clamp down on his fingers, grip Choso and Toji tighter. Everyone feeling your pleasure rise–

Satoru stills inside you. And you feel him spill. All hot and heavy; flowing over your tongue and melting on your taste buds like an ice cream cone in the summer sun. Tengy but savory.

–and rise until the dam breaks. Warmth flooding your nerves, overwhelming your senses until you surrender to it completely.

Nanami doesn't stop moving. Instead he speeds up, his fingers working you over until you are soaked in sweat; not a single inch of your skin dry or cool.

Fucking you through the first orgasm of the night while Satoru withdraws from your mouth. A feral groan escapes his lips as he watches scant droplets of his cum escape your mouth and rustle down the side of your cheek, smearing the sensuous skin with slick fluids that threaten to drip into your eyes. He leans down and sweeps up the droplets; plunging his sticky fingers deep inside your mouth.

All while the azure depths of his eyes lock onto your hazy gaze, you watching the upside down image of your boyfriend.

"You're so good," he praises, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean. You can taste it on his tongue; the saltiness, the sweetness of his spent, "ready for the real fun?"

Nanami's fingers scratch your quivering walls once last time. His lips – soft and velour – press against your opening, tongue teasingly licking along the entrance before he stands up.

"Mhm–definitely," you murmur and watch. Watch as Nanami stands up, torso sculpted into perfection. Muscles rippling under pale skin, the veins visible beneath the surface. Your fingers itch, coming closer until the tip of your middle finger nudges against the graven abdomen.

His hips pitch forward upon your touch. Hand tightening around his cock as he gives it a few pumps.

You want it. Want him. Want to feel the stretch as he sinks inside.

"Condoms," Satoru chimes in from your side, stern but only reminding everyone as his hand strokes your cheek. Nanami grips your thighs to spread your legs wider for him. Nodding, he reaches to your side, grabbing one from the small stack of them you prepared beforehand.

With one hand on your inner thigh, her rips open the foil packet with his teeth and rolls it down the length of his leaking cock.

"Ready," he asks to which you nod.

The burn is intense, numbing as you're filled in one smooth motion. His cock feels even better than you imagined it would; slick and hot inside you. You can feel every inch of him, every inch that fills you up. His hands tighten around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stays still.

A mewl cascades past your parted lips. Body shifting, seeking more friction; movement. Nanami responds with a roll of his hips – exploring. Testing whether you opened up for him enough. And when he feels the unrestrained slide of his cock inside you, he can't help it any more. At first it's slow, shallow thrusts that have you biting your lip in anticipation.

"Fuck, get it over with already Nanami or I'm gonna explode," you hear a gruff voice.

Toji.

"Y'know," it sounds more like a moan rather than words but all four sets of eyes snap to your face, "I have two holes, don't I?"

Nanami shudders against your cunt, and you could swear he got more swollen upon your words. Choso's eyes snap to Satoru as Toji grabs the bottle of lube from the table. Yet Satoru's gaze lingers on your blissful expression.

"You sure about that?"

When he asks, your chest tightens, pulse gallops.

"She's a big girl, she can decide for herself," Toji responds, hand on your hip. He nods at you and then turns to Nanami, who looks up at him. They exchange a few words, a conversation that passes by your ears.

"Hey–"

"Satoru," you interrupt the man by your side, hand reaching upwards to touch the side of his neck, "s'okay. It's a gift for me after all."

You whimper when Nanami's cock slides out; now feeling the emptiness all over again.

"Gonna move this to the couch," Choso retorts–

Everything feels weightless. Surreal. Each kiss a caress, each touch a fire. Your thoughts are muddled, consumed by the need for him. For all of them.

–and soon enough, your legs are spread wide around Nanami's waist, his cock nestled deep inside you. You move in tandem, slow and shallow thrusts as you straddle him. He leans back against the couch, his head hidden in the nook of your neck; while at the same time, Choso stands behind it, with your lips sealed around his dripping tip.

Toji stays crouched behind you. Any other day, your face would burn over the thought – of having someone's finger up your ass. It's a strange feeling – the steady pressure of his middle finger as he twists inside you. Even with the generous amount of lube, it takes Nanami a few good thrusts and encouraging words – You feel good. Relax for us, yeah? – to get you mellowed enough for Toji to add a second finger and scissor them inside.

All while Satoru stands by the doorframe; fully naked, skin pale with pinkish hue. It feels as if he's glowing, radiant, when your eyes open and he's standing in your peripheral vision.

The motion tugs at something deep inside you. And you moan around Choso's cock. Hollowing your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against his underside as you feel pleasure washing the shame away.

Suddenly, Toji's presence leaves your body. Letting go of Choso's cock, you hold it in your hand, thumb swiping over the sensitive slit, earning you a grunt of appreciation as Satoru's eyes lock onto yours – and you feel a small smile tug at your corners before–

"What–"

Something wet slithers around your rim as Nanami stills once again. Teeth nipping at the skin on your clavicles, your lips press momentarily against the ridge of Choso's tip, tasting the saltiness before you use Nanami's shoulders to steady yourself enough to twist around. To look at Toji, crunched down, hands spreading your cheeks apart with face buried between them. His eyes, verdant windows to his carnal soul, glint in the faint luminescence as they look up at you; you can't help but gasp, mouth running dry. His tongue like fire, skin searing under his touch as he swirls around your ass before pushing inside.

"Wait, I–ugh–"

Satoru shifts in the corner of your eyes.

But somehow, it feels good. So fucking good and delightful.

"Relax, not my first rodeo," Toji rumbles when he pulls away, sinking his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass; then he goes back for more.

"Feels weird," you let out a chuckle, nodding in Satoru's direction, "but good." Hand grasping Choso's cock – who's been patiently waiting for your return – you kiss the side of the burning flesh while letting Toji devour you.

Nanami's hands slide from their spot on your hips, tracing the curves and dips of your body; settling around the globes of your breasts. They squeeze the abused flesh, kissing the tender spots. Hips having mind of its own, you circle them on top of him, causing Nanami to grow into your skin.

For what feels like an eternity, you stay this way – squeezing, warming Nanami's cock inside your dripping walls. One hand resting at the back of his head as he kisses your chest, massages your nipples and caresses your sides. The other hand moves along Choso's length, lips tightly wrapped around it as you bob your head, Choso's hand resting on top of your head, gently urging you to take more.

With Satoru watching over it all.

"Good," a sharp slap, sting on your ass when Toji finishes and stands up, "arch your back for me, kitten." His hand presses against your lower back, urging you into position.

Your body curves into Nanami's, like water around a rock.

Nanami spreads his legs more, opening you when Toji spread more lube over his cock. Tugs a few times to spread the slick, sticky substance over the condom, dipping the fingers in your ass to loosen the upcoming friction more.

You expect pain; pain of being stretched to the limit. Yet there's none when the tip of his cock slips past your rim and slowly slips inside you – further and further, until his hips are pressed against your ass.

"Fuck–good girl, ain't ya," Toji mumbles, more for himself as he feels the heat of your insides hug him tightly.

"You're doing great," Nanami's lips brush against the shell of your ear, tone quiet – just for you. "Wanna ride us?"

"Mmph–," you nod. Fingers sliding along Choso's cock, taking him in your mouth when you start to move on your own accord.

Which doesn't last too long as pleasure increases, makes it difficult for you to find a good pace. As if he can feel your struggle, Toji grasps your hips, stabilizing the pace as Nanami moves his hips.

Satoru watches on with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as Nanami starts to move; his cock sliding inside you with ease, meeting up with Toji's pace. You can feel both their cocks pushing deep within you, adding fuel to the fire inside.

Their hands never leave your body, grasping at whatever they can reach.

"Ah–" Choso's hips stutter the moment his cock breaches the entrance to your throat. You keep going, deepening the movement with each plunge. The sensation builds up in seconds, making it impossible to keep still as he grunts your name, feeling himself nearing the edge. "Gonna cum–ugh– damn."

His hands grasp your face, hips rolling forward. You grasp Nanami's shoulders, letting Choso ride out his high, his cum sliding down your throat before he slips out – spent and satisfied – and watches with grateful gaze as you swallow him down, not leaving a droplet to escape.

"Shit–," Toji speaks up after a second, "you just got tighter," and he grips your hips, moving Nanami's hands out the way as the intensity of his thrusts increases. "Look at you. Always knew you were a dirty one."

You can't even respond, just focus on the intense pleasure coursing through your veins. Pulling away, Choso takes a step back; steading yourself on Nanami, using his chest as leverage, you pull back. Back meeting Toji's solid chest, his hand wrapping around the side of your neck while he brings your head to his – cheek to cheek, lips pressed against your ear.

"Would kill to have you cum raw on my cock alone," he mumbles. And you know the reason for the quiet whisper. You can feel Nanami's hands move to your hips, steadying them as he thrusts in time with Toji. Together they create a perfect tempo, pushing you closer.

"Ah, ah–" you moan out as their combined rhythm sends pleasure through you, building up the intensity until it takes over every inch of your body. Until your walls shudder around them, body tensing before you let loose.

Nanami doesn't stay behind; his hands slide up your waist to grip your ribs. He feels you tense around him, and the sound of your name slipping past his gritted teeth echoes in the room as he drops his forehead to your collarbones. With one final thrust, he spills inside the condom with a groan. You can feel the tension in his shoulders relax; as if a weight has been lifted from them.

Still in haze – eyes closed – you let out a small sigh, feeling the last of Nanami's warmth seep out of your body before the scene shifts.

Satoru has you pinned against the wall, Toji standing behind. His hands grip your hips, pushing his hard, slick cock inside your loose asshole while Satoru moves in front of you, taking your face in his hands – his hands move down from your chin to your jaw, then to the side, to the sensitive skin along the bottom of your ear and your collarbone. The strong wide thumb of his right hand presses against the corner of your mouth, gently.

So you open up. Legs supported under Toji's wise grip, you offer yourself to the two. You can feel Toji behind you, his breath hot on your neck as he thrusts back and forth. Teeth marking your nape, electrifying your sensitive body – still high from another climax mere seconds ago, yet neither of the two stopped –

Satoru's lips move to your wet cheek before he inches closer again, lips ghosting yours until the tip of his tongue finds its way inside your mouth – warm and wet – a silent command for you to reciprocate, and you do. You let yourself get lost in his kiss while Toji's hips crash against yours, pushing you both forward.

The sensation is overwhelming – a mixture of pleasure and pain as both men push against each other, letting out groans of pleasure and grunts of delight that blur the line between lustful and loving. Primal and affectionate.

"Fuck–kitten," Toji grumbles, chest vibrating against your back, "gonna cum."

And even with the condom on, you feel it. Feel the sudden rush of warmth as Toji's cock pulsates inside you. His name sounds like a prayer on your tongue when he stills, flexing his arms and spreading you wider for Satoru's harsh thrusts to reach deeper. Pelvis massaging your swollen nub each time he buries himself balls deep inside your cunt – raw, unrestrained, without a barrier. Unlike the rest.

All while Toji relishes in the squeeze of your ass, the snug fit whenever Satoru hits that deepest spot inside you and bullies his cock in your walls (even if he hates to admit it).

The sensation sends your body into a new frenzy and you can feel the tension building up. Again. Watching Satoru's eyes close, the crease between his brows deepen. Hips stuttering, his hand cradles your cheek as he lets go. Your arms sneak around his shoulders, face nestled in the sharp contour of his neck.

(With all the sensations buzzing inside your body, in each nerve, you don't notice Toji leaving silently.)

A strong arm sneaks behind your back, the other placed on the back of your neck. Hips pushing into your softness as he grunts appreciatively; you feel the slickness flood your walls, paint it pearlescent white. He holds you close, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Heat rolling over your body. His voice like honey and the sound of it alone is enough to bring you back to earth.

Until it all ends in a beautiful mess. A gluttony of pleasure, skin slick and breathless.

And somehow, you want more.

"Think we can do round two."

[stqrbov]

Quick soap doodle inspired by That instagram reel

[stqrbov]

Why is it so hard finding the perfect combination of quality and quantity writers?

Either the quantity writers upload a lot but the quality of their stories is meh, average at best, or the quality writers upload like once a month but at least the wait si so worth it because it's like reading a classical novel or a poetry masterpiece.

[stqrbov]

No time to die

Warning: Death of the reader; injuries; mention of blood; implied parting with Leon; Old leon; Fem!reader

Synopsis: he should have decided on his feelings before telling you about love. He should be taking care of you instead of running after Ada again, but now he will have enough time for this activity.

A/N: Sometimes I write about Leon's slippery ass. Well, I really had disturbing thoughts again.

If you were given a choice on whose hands to spend the last minutes of your life, you would never have chosen the hands of Leon S Kennedy.

In fact, you would rather lie in a pool of your own blood, moving away from him as far as possible, leaving dark scarlet streaks behind you, than let him help you. After all, despite all his love for this man, he caused you a very strong pain. Even stronger than what you feel now, when you try to get to your feet leaning on torn palms, spitting out a thick foam of blood.

Well, ordinary civilians can hardly resist a giant bioweapon that has crushed a bunch of people like bugs up to this point, but if Ada Wong was only slightly knocked down by a blow, which caused her to lose consciousness for a while, then you were thrown with such force that the organs inside seem to have turned into porridge.

But at that moment you didn't care anymore. The pain pierced every cell of your body and the only desire in your head was just to hide from it somewhere. Leon and his endless love for Ada didn't care anymore, but this pain will always remain in your heart. After all, he came to her aid and not to you.

You started coughing up blood. From every breath it became increasingly unbearable to breathe, and then you lost that fragile balance that you found for a couple of short seconds, collapsing on shards of glass that crumbled under your weight. Everything swam before your eyes. You didn't have the strength to curse anyone because all you wanted was not hugs and a declaration of love, but for this painful hell to end faster! A grunt escaped from your throat when someone tried to turn your body over and provide first aid, but only blood splattered out of your mouth.

"God," Leon's partner looked at you with big frightened eyes, trying to think of something, but stopped when you gathered the remnants of your strength and grabbed her hand, looking at the gun in her holster.

The last mercy for the dying.

"Please..." your hoarse, very quiet whisper begged Helena to "finish it"

Tears flowed from red eyes mixing with the blood that was on your face. From this pain, the vessels in your eyes burst and it seems that the only way out was a kind of voluntary euthanasia by a bullet in the head and not waiting for your body to stop fighting death before the damaged organs stop working themselves.

And then Helena's loud voice was heard calling Leon to finally break away from his beloved and pay attention to the dying you. If your condition were better, you would spit this very blood in his face. However, he really ran up to you after a couple of seconds, laying you on his lap, trying to do everything carefully so as not to cause additional pain. You didn't really want to spit, but you accidentally soiled his face when he stroked your hair.

Crimson thin rivulets slowly poured out of your nose and you closed your eyes a little at a new outbreak of suffocating pain that filled your whole body reflexively clinging to Leon's hand. His skin showed signs of broken nails, but he didn't seem to mind. It was unbearable for you to take even a small breath; even one attempt was accompanied by a bloody, foamy, painful cough at the edge of your mouth. It was like Hell.

Leon seemed to be looking for something that could help you, delay death, but Helena already understood everything. Anyone who saw you would understand that the injuries you received were not compatible with life.

“Please don’t...please,” Leon muttered, trying to stop the scarlet stain spreading under your chest. “Baby, I know, I know it hurts, but be patient.”

“Leon...” his partner called quietly, hinting that it was pointless.

And at some point you noticed Ada looking at you without pity, without disgust, without any other emotions. Just another corpse that crossed their path. Wong only had a couple of scratches. She did not writhe in agony and Leon would quickly find solace in her immediately after your death, this thought made your body gather its last strength and with a tearing cough look at the man in front of you, in whose eyes you could see fear for your life. On your last breath, you decided to hurt him before you die, as punishment for what he did to your heart, crushing it like a paper ball, and then tearing it apart, throwing you pathetic scraps... Well, that's how you saw it.

Leon caught that look, something in it even scared him, but your next words, which were the last, were forever imprinted in his memory and on his heart. Because you knew how painfully he endures the fact that someone hates him. You pulled your hand out of his and with hatred hissed something that was not even true in essence. It's just that at this very moment you wanted him to understand what pain he caused you with his love for Ada Wong.

"I... ha-te... you"

Everything inside Leon snapped in the same second. His love for Ada has remained a pain in your heart, but... the same pain will remain in him. The last breath, and your eyes, which he loved so much, glazed over, and your mouth remained slightly ajar. Ada... she didn't say anything, but was she surprised? Leon grabbed your hand again, trying to feel at least a weak pulse, but the words you said were pounding in his head, making tears flow from his eyes.

"No," he whispered softly, unable to believe what was happening. You couldn't die in his arms like that and you couldn't say those words. You had no reason to say those words to him! "Come on, look at me, I'll take you to a safe place. They will help you"

Helena put her hand on his shoulder, realizing how it hurt him in the end. He doesn't even have the opportunity to leave your body in a safe place and all he and Ada could do was watch him stroke your cheek with one hand holding your shoulders. The pose is exactly similar to when he defended Ada in China, only she was able to survive and you unfortunately did not.

"It's not your fault... no one is to blame for her death," Ada only said. She felt sorry for him " And her words... Leon..."

"She was not herself," Helena picked up, looking at Leon silently

Ada at some point correctly decided that it was out of jealousy. Just the last time to prick a loved one knowing that he will keep these words to himself for a long time. But they didn't have time for mourning and tears, however, even she didn't have the tongue to tell Leon to leave you here. So she just asked for his jacket and wrapped you in it, believing that you really would like it - to be enveloped in the fragrance of a loved one before death.

now was simply not the time and place to grieve, but even she did not understand the meaning of the words you said. After all, Leon really left her for you. Ada couldn't give him the stability and love he needed. Their complicated relationship hurt Leon in a way, but with you he became a normal person. She understood this, so she calmly retreated, because neither he nor she had ever felt sincere love for each other. Leon found this bright feeling in you by breaking off even short dates with her forever, and all Ada could do was really help him later.

Your death was committed out of place and all three of them understood that from Leon now only the shadow of the former man will remain and he himself will wallow in alcohol constantly replaying your dying words on repeat.

You really shouldn't have told him that.

[stqrbov]

Price holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet: good fucking shit

Holding your hand over Price’s mouth because he’s so lost in the sauce he’s a babbling mess because fuck your cunt is so good: even fucking better shit

[stqrbov]

No offense but “reader is dumb innocent and fuckable” is textbook misogyny and at this point none of us are seeing heaven

[stqrbov]

I'M STREAMING SEPARATE WAYS TONIGHT ON MY TWITCH !!

WE START AT 6:30 EST (but it's me so i'll probably be a little late) WE GONNA PLAY THE WHOLE DAMN THING!!!! ADA MOTHERFUCKING WONG.

[stqrbov]

Tell me more in the tags!!

[stqrbov]

I'm here... Yes, yes, but you know what I mean!

[stqrbov]

Summary: Things go awry when your undercover mission involves 'marrying' another agent - suffice it to say your boyfriend isn't thrilled. Based on this request. Pairing: RE6!Leon x DSO Fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, my poor attempt at humor, not beta read. No use of y/n WC: 1028

Make a Request || Masterlist

"Are you sure you guys will tell him? I haven't been able to reach him yet." You felt ridiculous about the whole thing - a fake wedding? That was something right out of some cheesy made-for-tv movie. It honestly shouldn't even have bothered you that Leon hadn’t been made aware, it wasn't like you were actually cheating on him. Still though, it just felt like something he should know, since you would be kissing another man. Didn't help that it was Chris Redfield of all people too. "Of course, he's supposed to be getting back from that China mission today, right? We'll make sure he's in the loop." Helena assured, with a smile. If it hadn't been for your nerves and focus on the mission, you probably would've caught the way Sherry’s face contorted as she held back laughter, hiding behind the brunette woman. 

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." The rest of your time was spent having your hair teased and curled, layers upon layers of makeup being applied to your face. It felt like hours had passed before you were finally deemed worthy enough to be set loose for the main affair. All the while Helena and Sherry sat together cracking up over something that they spoke to each other in hushed whispers about. “What’s so funny?” You finally asked. “Oh nothing.” Was the only reply. “You wouldn’t get it, it's an inside joke.”

“Uh huh…” Not fully convinced by their statement, you wanted to pry further, but let it go not having the time to interrogate them.

 As you walked towards the makeshift altar, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Chris, who was looking just as uneasy as you felt. He was standing so stiff in the suit, more like a statue than a groom. Hopefully your acting was better than his, or this whole thing would be a bust. The doors to the side of the chapel opened, and much to your surprise you found Leon walking through. It was obvious that he was fresh off the plane by his messy-blonde locks and the fact he hadn't even taken his tactical gear off. You recognized the irritated look on his face, and it made your stomach drop.

The ceremony went by in a blur, mind racing with thoughts of Leon and how he was feeling. ‘Why does he look so upset? They had to have told him or he wouldn’t even be here.’ You barely registered the words being spoken by the officiant, speaking only when it was your turn. It had only just registered for you that it was time for the kiss. Chris leaned in, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand, and not to your boyfriend staring daggers from the pew. 

Before your lips connected though, you were interrupted by the sound of Leon's voice cutting through the air. "Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" 

A couple of gasps were heard from the crowd, you ignored them to make eye contact with the blonde who's boots loudly thrummed against the floor as he made his way over to you and your fake groom. "At what point were you planning on telling me that you were leaving me? Maybe I'll get a postcard from the honeymoon?" "Lee, I-" "I don’t care that I’m interrupting your little ceremony – save it. I can't believe you'd do this to me, and with Chris of all people?" "Leon, stop." You half whispered to him, trying to get him to calm down without alerting the crowd to anything suspicious. "I need you to calm down." "Calm down? I go away on a mission and when I come back you're getting married --" "Leon please, it's not what you think." You pleaded, trying to get him to lower his voice. "It's not real." He paused for a moment bewildered by what you said. "What do you mean it's not real?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you leaned in to whisper to him. "It's not a real wedding. It's for a mission Chris and I are working on, an undercover mission." "An undercover mission?" He repeated as if the words were foreign to him. There was a brief moment of silence before realization came washing over his features. ”Oh shit.” “Yeah oh shit.” You chided through gritted teeth. Any further discussion was cut off by the sound of Chris’ voice. “I’m sorry folks.” Chris said with a weary tone. “I think my fiancé and I need some time to work this situation out.” He put one hand on your back and the other on Leon’s ushering the two of you back to the dressing room. The moment the door closed, you were already going off again. “Did you seriously think I would just get married to someone else while you were away?” “Well, no… I guess not.” “You guess not?” You felt the vein above your right eyebrow begin to throb with annoyance. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” “For starters you were in China. But besides that, Rebecca and Sherry were supposed to tell you for me – wait a minute, if you weren’t told how did you even know to come to the church?”

“Well uh…” Leon reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. It took him a moment to unlock it before handing it over, revealing a message thread. The number said ‘Unknown’ and the only thing included was a picture of you in the gown along with the address. “What the –” 

The unmistakable sound of laughter filled the room as the two culprits decided to enter. “We’re sorry.” Sherry said. “We just thought it would be a little funny to keep Leon on his toes.” “Yeah, we figured it would be a little harmless fun, we didn’t expect him to get here so soon.” Helena added. “But man, the look on his face – priceless.” Leon’s mouth hung open at the girls’ words, you could tell his brain was working overtime to process the situation. You had to admit, it was funny to look at. Kissing him on the cheek you joined in the laughter.

[stqrbov]

more, more, more

rating: E ID!Leon Kennedy/GN!Reader 18+ warnings: afab gn!reader, public use of vibrator, remote controlled vibe, exhibitionism, edging/orgasm denial, pillow humping, cunnilingus, no gendered terms, no use of y/n word count 2.3k summary: Leon's been in a mood lately. You decide to spice things up to help out. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50141251 AN: Inspired directly by this piece by @glacierclear.

It was your idea, in Leon’s defense.

Rough debriefs. The looming threat of being deployed. It had all soured his mood, sent him spinning into the deepest pit you’d had the misfortune of seeing him in. Storm clouds, furrowed brows–you just needed your Leon back.

So you’d gone out. Quietly made a purchase, and then after dinner one night, shoved the box into his palms and let him turn it over. 

“You bought a new vibrator?” Leon asked, tilting his head to look at you. Confused, curious. He tried to hand it back to you.

“Fuck–read it, Leon.” You insisted, pushing it back toward his chest. Leon sighed, tired, but you watched as his face relaxed. Scanning quickly across the words, a slow smile spread over his face. Bright blue eyes caught your gaze.

“App controlled?” Leon’s nails dug into the soft circle of tape over the opening. He punched through it, lifting the top, and he fished out the little pink bullet vibe. Your pulse pitched itself higher, thrumming hot against the back of your mouth, beating into your tongue. You swallowed thickly.

“Yeah. Wherever you are, you can change the settings. Here. The store.” A beat. A pointed look. “At work.”

Leon rolled his eyes, and your heart sunk. But the little smile on his face didn’t waver. “Sounds fun.”

“I’ve got a ton of errands to run tomorrow, so…” You trailed off. At that, Leon’s face fell. He looked at you, serious suddenly. As a heart attack, you nearly joked, but your fists balled up against your thighs in anticipation.

“Wait, you want to wear this out?” Leon’s voice had a sharp edge to it, like he wasn’t entirely convinced. “In public?” There was something in his tone. Worry. Possessiveness, maybe. Like he didn’t want to make a spectacle of you. But the bulge in his slacks sold him out, delivered him to you on a silver platter.

Your eyes dropped, half-lidded, searching his face. Lips creeping upward, a sly smirk, you nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“I don’t know.” Leon’s throat bobbed. He turned the vibe over in his hands. Long fingers curled around it, flexed a little. He weighed it like a heart, the risk heavy, but the appeal too titillating to deny. You watched Leon drag his tongue across his bottom lip, saw the pink flesh glisten as he wet it, and you ached to kiss him.

“I think you do.”

Leon’s teeth followed his tongue, and he worked his lip against his canine. Arousal boiled beneath the surface of your skin. You wanted him to agree. Needed it, honestly, if the heartbeat in your clit had anything to say about it. And you knew you had him. Your plan to get your Leon back was already working. The shadows on his face seemed lighter, and his mind was the furthest from work than it had been in upwards of a week.

“Alright. We’ll try it.” Leon shook his head, mouth twisting in a look of disbelief, but there was no hiding the spark that flared in his eyes, pupils blown wide and swallowing his irises. The slight apprehension put you at ease. You knew Leon would take it easy.

And now here you were, wrong beyond belief, crouching down in the grocery store. You pretended to look at the bottom shelf, mimed reading price tags as footsteps wandered past your aisle. You were alone for now. Prayers left your lips, begging for it to stay that way, as you listened to the buzzing between your clenched thighs.

Leon must have forgotten, you rationalized. He’d cranked it up, and now he was busy, and he couldn’t turn it down. That was why you were stuck here fighting the urge to come in your pants. It was an accident. Your clit twitched, and you clawed at the metal you braced yourself on. It crept up on you, an impending orgasm that you had no hope of stopping unless–

The vibrator hummed down. You huffed out a soft sigh, head swimming. Your eyes were unfocused. Vision doubled, you laughed low. “Fuck.”

It took a few minutes for the blood to return to your brain, for your body to stop shaking so badly you could actually stand. Your hand curled around the handles of your basket, and you decided to forego the rest of your little list. You needed to get out of here.

You hardly made it to the end of the aisle before the vibrator screamed to life again. You folded at the waist, twisting around. Your face was hot, flushed, and sweat beaded along your hairline. Out of instinct, your legs pushed together, earning you more friction and the added benefit of muffling the hum of the vibe.

“God, fuck, Leon.” You cursed him like he could hear you. All his meek teasing during the earlier half of the day had been a smokescreen, a warm-up to the real game you found yourself tossed into. Slick dripped into your underwear, and you almost could hear the squelch as your legs shifted again, sopping wet clit grinding into the fat of your thigh.

Just before you came again, barely tasting your relief, Leon set the vibrator to a low buzz. It was just enough to dangle you near the knife-sharp edge of an orgasm, but it couldn’t push you over. It didn’t matter how hard you tried. Frustration made your eyes roll back.

You rushed to check out, paid for your meager amount of groceries, and you took quick, striding steps to the car. Just as you threw all your bags into the trunk, your phone rang. You answered it as you climbed into the driver’s side, slamming the door shut, and through gritted teeth, you hissed, “Leon.”

“Doing alright over there, sweetheart?” His voice was husky, excited, and any bite to your words flew from you immediately.

“I was–you–” You cut off with a growl, and Leon chuckled. It sounded tinny with a slight echo. He’d slipped away to a stairwell, a bathroom–something so he could bask in his victory.

“You didn’t come, did you?”

“No.”

“Good.” There was a rustle as the phone moved away from his lips. Before you could ask, the vibrator buzzed higher. Alone in your car, one hand flew out to grip the center console. Your thighs parted. A moan tore hot from your throat, and Leon let slip a soft praise of that’s right. He teased the setting back and forth, dashing you between intense vibrations and barely-there buzzes. “Keep making those pretty noises.”

“Leon. God, I can’t fucking do this.” Your words were broken open on your pleasure. Voice cracking into little whimpers, you sounded every bit as pathetic as you felt.

“Don’t touch it. Leave it in.”

“Leon–” The toy whirred at, what you assumed was, the highest setting. You bucked your hips into nothing, not caring who saw, free hand reaching out and gripping the steering wheel. A lifeline. A shitty one. “Gonna come. Please.”

Leon’s voice was clear, collected, and that single syllable pierced into the pounding muscle of your heart: “No.”

The vibrations stopped altogether. You should have breathed out, pleased, but you were wound so high that it only made you sob. Arousal tingled across your limbs, so tense that you’d practically crushed your nerves.

“Not until I tell you.” The smile was obvious even through the phone. “I gotta go. Remember what I said.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me,” Leon ordered.

“Don’t come. Don’t touch the toy.”

“Good.”

The call ended, leaving you wanting for more, needing the smooth cadence of his voice. The vibe turned back on at a steady hum, and you sighed. It was something.

By the time you drove home, Leon had resumed his antics. Heavy swings between everything and nothing. Teasing you just close enough that each time you were convinced he’d let you go, wanted you to come. Each time, you were awash in disappointment when it ticked down.

You didn’t even put the groceries away. You slammed the bags down onto the counter, and you stripped, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you raced to the bedroom. The cool air of the apartment hit your burning skin, but it did nothing to quench the flame of too many denials that fueled your spite.

Hands rummaging through drawers, you found a dark blue hoodie that belonged to Leon. You threw it on, and the smell of him immediately flooded your senses, making your mouth water, and your cunt clench. You hauled yourself up onto the bed, and you grabbed one of your pillows. Stuffing it between your thighs, you settled downward. Your clit pushed into the firm fabric.

“Ah, god,” you moaned. It fell from you without much thought, wafting into the air. You curled your fist into the neckline of the hoodie and brought it over your nose. Eyes fluttering, hips grinding, you panted. You felt like a dog, humping desperately, needing release like you’d never experienced.

And you technically hadn’t broken a rule. Not yet anyway.

The vibrator was still seated firmly in your cunt, and you had left it there. It was at a low setting right now and had been for a while. A product of Leon’s drive home. You had limited time to chase down an orgasm.

Your hips bucked harder. Each drag of your pussy left wetness slicking up the pillow, turning the white pillowcase nearly translucent. You tipped forward to push more of your clit into the fabric. Your other hand gripped the edge of the bed while you rutted, mewling softly. You were close. Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and into the hoodie. The toy hummed.

The front door clicked open, and your orgasm fizzled out. “No, no,” you whined, trying to find the right angle again. You fucked your clit harder into the pillow, and the first sparks of pleasure started back up. But it was over. Leon was in the doorway, and you were caught.

His suit jacket was open, and his tie was undone. The first few buttons on his shirt were popped, and, had you been primed, you could have come just at the sight of him. You stopped moving; your hand dropped the hoodie away from your nose.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” Leon chastised, crossing into the bedroom. His hands, rough, calloused, fixed against your hips, forcing you still. “And now you can’t even play by the rules?”

“Didn’t touch the toy,” you promised. “And I didn’t come. I’m sorry, fuck, Leon, I just–”

“Come on. You’d make a shit lawyer. Trying for technicality when I caught you in the act.” Leon pulled his phone from his pocket. He pushed up on the little digital slider, and you felt the vibrator kick up. A gasp bubbled in your throat; your body tried to buck on its own, but Leon’s hand stopped you. “Shouldn’t let you come at all for that.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” The apologies rushed from your throat like bile. You needed him to know you meant it. (You didn’t.)

“Baby, I’m not that easy.” Leon pushed the setting even higher, leaned by your ear. “I’m not you.”

Your head fell back, resting on Leon’s shoulder. He kissed your temple as you cried out soft calls of his name mingled with more I’m sorry’s and swears of I’ll be good. Leon curled his fingers tighter into your hip, and you knew it would bruise.

“Tell me what you need,” Leon murmured. His lips brushed over your ear.

“I need more, please Leon, I need just a little–more!” The last word was choked out as he slid his thumb up the screen until the vibrator was at its peak. His hand moved along your spine, shoving you forward, bending you over. Your fists gripped the sheets as Leon raced two fingers along your lips.

He didn’t speak as he spread you wide, caught a glimpse of the toy stuffed into your cunt, and you heard him growl your name. Then his mouth covered your soaked folds. Tonguing at your clit, he suckled at you slowly. It was gentle compared to the harsh vibrations inside you. But it grew in intensity. Heavy, fat licks, a vice around your clit. Leon threw his phone aside, and his free hand kneaded the curve of your ass.

It was permission enough, you supposed, as you skipped over a cliff’s edge. Denial all day, and now you were in a free fall. The orgasm that took you over made you bury your face into the mattress and scream. Your throat ripped raw, and pleasure snapped your bones in half. You were melting, a puddle, a complete mess as you rocked back against his face. His nose pressed into your pussy; he lapped at you like he was starving.

Your body sagged downward, collapsing onto the soaked pillow. It stuck unpleasantly to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You reached between your thighs and removed the vibrator. It clicked off, and you sighed as it left you. Leon took it without a word, taking it to the adjoining bathroom where he left it for the time being.

When Leon returned, he hovered over you, guiding you onto your back. You looked up at him. Your legs shook violently, and he slotted between them. A grin graced his face. Oh, how you wanted to hate him. But that look on his face. Your Leon was back. He dipped down and his lips met yours, even as they trembled. After a moment, he turned and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel?” Leon mumbled. When you only raised a thumbs-up, he snickered, dropping his forehead to push it against your collarbone. “Not a bad idea you had there.”

“I have those every once in a while.”

Leon kissed your neck. His hips slid forward. The soft material of his slacks held back his cock as it strained to find you. Slick coated the front of his pants as he started to grind gently into your oversensitive cunt. “Want more?”

You answered him with a quick wrap of your legs around his waist. Leon hid his grin against you. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

[stqrbov]

Ocean Eyes

Summary: A simple, lazy day makeout session with Leon.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 915 words

Warnings: Fluff, pet names (pretty girl, greedy girl, princess), making out

Tags: Playful and cute Leon, pouty reader

A/N: I went ahead and combined two requests for this little blurb, so I hope you both like it!! I am slowly on the mend from Covid, never want to experience that shit again. I have turned requests off just so I can catch up on the ones sitting in my ask box and a few other ideas I had, but my asks are always open for headcanons or to chat or anything else. Anyways, enough rambling. Please enjoy! <3 <3 <3 Song title from "Ocean Eyes" by Billie Eilish.

Sitting sideways on the couch with your feet tucked beneath Leon’s warm, muscular thigh, you scrolled absentmindedly through your social media accounts. Every minute that you vaguely listened to the history documentary chosen by him as you thumbed through posts, your body slowly sunk deeper and deeper into the plush backrest. Your loosely planned, lazy Friday evening slowly grew boring as the clock ticked on, and Leon focused more on the TV and less on you. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

The low, gentle timbre brought your attention back to the presence as you looked up, cheek still propped up on your closed fist. You shrugged in response to Leon’s question, flashing him a view of your phone screen. “Nothing, honestly,” a sigh left your lips as you locked your phone with a forming pout. “I’m kind of bored.” 

Leon’s lips curved into a gentle smile as he leaned his head back on the cushion and looked you over. Like you, he had dressed down to simple lazy wear for the night. The black t-shirt and gray sweatpants combo was a look of his you’d never get tired of seeing. He sat up slightly in his seat, parting his thighs before he patted one. “C’mere.” 

You set your phone on the couch cushion behind you and hooked a leg over his lap, seating yourself in the dip between his thighs. Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his. He was warm, per usual, and the lingering scent of his spiced, woodsy scented body wash and crisp cologne was quickly welcomed by your senses as you inhaled slowly. 

Leon rubbed his warm, calloused palms up the bare skin of your thighs, raising little goosebumps over the span of your smooth skin. He smiled gently as he looked into your eyes. From this close up in the warm light casted by the end table lamp, you could see his pupils dilate each time he looked at you. Those deep blue ocean eyes were filled with nothing but love for you as he continued to gently caress your skin. 

“What can I do to entertain my pretty girl, hmm?” Leon mused, tilting his head back as his hands slid up to your waist and firmly grasped. He pulled you closer, pressing your body completely against his, now. His fingers slipped beneath your oversized t-shirt and pressed against the skin of your hips just above your sleep shorts. “What ever would satisfy your need for attention?” 

Your lips threatened to twitch upwards into a smile, but you fought the urge with another pout. Dramatically sighing, you leaned your forehead down against his shoulder and shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’m dying,” you whined against him playfully. 

Leon tutted mockingly, reaching a hand up to pat your back. “Now, now. We can’t have that, now can we?” He continued to pat your back gently. His soft bangs fell over his eyes as he leaned his head against yours, chest vibrating with a thoughtful hum. “Would a kiss be enough?” 

You mimicked his hum, sitting up slightly as you tapped your fingers to your lips. You pretended to give the suggestion plenty of thought, squinting your eyes as you looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know if just one would suffice.” 

Leon scoffed, shaking his head at you. “Greedy girl,” he chided playfully. “How about two, then?” 

Finally letting yourself smile fully, you leaned in until your lips were an inch away from his. “How about… one,” you gave him the first kiss. “Or two,” a second kiss followed. 

“Or three.. Or four..” 

He let out a deep chuckle as you continued to count through the kisses, even tilting his head for you to plant them across his cheeks and over his forehead. By the time you’d reached ten, you’d almost covered every inch of his smooth skin. A soft pink hue settled on his high cheekbones as he leaned his head back once more, giving you a lopsided smile. “Was that enough?” Leon asked with raised eyebrows. 

“Nope,” you quickly answered, popping the ‘p’ before you leaned back in. The eleventh kiss was a lot longer than your previous fleeting pecks. Your lips pillowed against his in gentle meetings, each point of contact bringing about a soft smacking sound. You cupped his face in your soft hands, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks as he let you take the lead. 

Leon gripped your hips once more, holding you flush against him as he chased your lips after each slight retreat. A soft, grumbling moan left his throat as he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access. Once you’d granted it to him, he wasted no time in pushing the wet appendage into your mouth. 

You fought him for dominance, tongues dancing together in a heated tango until you ultimately relented. He sat up as you sunk down in his lap, letting him wholly consume you through the passionate kiss until you both broke away for air. 

Once he’d caught his breath, Leon gave your hip a tap with his fingers as he looked down at you. His smile bordered on cheeky as he looked into your eyes again. “Was that enough attention for you, princess?” 

You pursed your lips, swaying side-to-side slightly on his lap as you thought about your answer. “Hmm… No, I think I need a little bit more.” 

「 @ cinnarette 2023 Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking! 」

[stqrbov]

when flames dance

𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - as prince gojo's bride is chosen, you're left to experience one last night within his chambers.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - angst, prince! gojo, maid! reader, medieval era in my head, smut, gojo cries when he comes, love confession

2.4k words

The facts were always abundantly clear. 

Even if you had wished for any other outcome, or to spend a few more nights beside him, moments were fleeting. They always had been once you'd thought about it - this relationship destines to end in departure. Heated kisses only with no eyes to see, gentle touches of soft skin. The only light to guide your actions had been the orange glow of candlelight, so frail in comparison to the sun.

The secretive romance between your uncanny pairing was something you'd cherished, even in its limited lifespan. Though, the sting of waking up alone had begun to cut much deeper than it had before. You'd pictured if servitude would have been much easier if Satoru wouldn't have requested your companionship, if you hadn't learned what it would be to feel loved nor safe. The fact of retirement had been ingrained, yet with each passing day, you had fought the urge to sabotage your own secret. Perhaps if the king were to see his son's happiness, he would relent - no, you would remind yourself that you had doubted it. 

Satoru Gojo had been destined to marry a high-born woman, one with an equal stature in the world of politics, whom could aid in the growth of the kingdom he would come to inherit. Although certain affairs were permitted behind closed doors, a public relation to anyone other than a princess picked to his right would be abhorrent. He'd indulged here and there, a man or woman wrapped beneath the sheets you'd felt brush over your own skin, never struggling to abide by one simple rule. No courting.

His bride had been picked before he'd set eyes over you. A new asset to aid in the upkeep of the castle, supporting housekeeping while remaining quiet and obedient to orders. Satoru had noticed the other maid's avoidance, and your still nature when within his presence. Perhaps he'd seen himself in your eyes - never fussing over the internalized pain you'd lived through, instead serving others. 

The first time you'd held a conversation had been pleasant. Nothing rich nor remarkable, though a satisfying exchange. 

He'd caught you walking through the halls, passing his chambers only to be stopped by a white head of hair poking through his door, a request of assistance with a new garment. A few buttons had been ripped from their place, and with your housekeeping expertise, you were summoned to service a repair. 

You would not be privy to one of Satoru's secrets; that he had torn them from cloth himself to gain a reason for aid, pulling harshly on the small wooden circles as he'd spoken to you through the door. 

He'd made you laugh with only the second one to one encounter. While tending to him within the garden, a pitcher and glass in hand, he'd been sat idly carving a piece of wood between finger. Either curiosity or kindness had encouraged you to ask what he'd been creating as the pitcher had been set down, his pale complexion turning to face you. You wouldn't see his eyes through the black barriers that had protected them, though with the feeling of his gaze dancing over your figure, you'd straightened your posture. 

He'd displayed a wide smile, a giggle to himself, before pushing the wood in your direction. He'd described it as an animal of some description - a horse to be exact, though it had resembled nothing of the sort. Air had passed through your nose, a gentle choke and light snort, though immediately met with an apology and bow. 

You were surprised when he had laughed along with you, and requested your company for the afternoon.

Few evenings had followed this before you were to find yourself within his presence once more. Midnight, signified only by twelve chimes on the grandfather clock as you'd pattered through the castle halls, candlelight your own guide. Within a mind of your own, you hadn't sensed the company of  another until your own gown had brushed theirs. You'd glanced up in fear as his figure had towered over yours, though once setting eyes across his increasingly familiar features, you'd felt somewhat at ease. With dimness, the prince's glasses were discarded, revealing to you the most precious set of eyes you'd ever laid sight upon. The blue had danced before your handheld flame, his smirk creeping over skin.

"What're you doing up?" Satoru's voice had always been doused in a playful tone, an informality in his greetings to you. He'd never opted to ask you good morning nor night, though this was something you'd came to adore - another reason he'd been so unlike other men. 

"Sorry, sir." With your head bowed, you had attempted to steady a sporadic heart.  "I didn't ask for an apology, did I?" His voice would always cause your chest to tighten and stomach to flutter, even if you'd been only his maid. "Walk with me." There was a gentleness to him that you hadn't recognized, but with the lateness of the day, there had been a good chance he'd been tired. When he'd placed his hand to the small of your back, you couldn't help but wonder if there had instead been a deeper meaning. 

As you'd wondered the corridors at his side, he'd allowed his slender fingers to entwine with the grip of the candle holder's metal handle. You'd been much too focused on your racing heart to notice that he'd navigated you back to his quarters, opening the old wood and inviting you inside. He'd closed it behind your reluctant footsteps, placing the wax that had lost most of it's height to sit atop a wooden dresser, turning to face you. 

The amber light had danced around the room as you'd peered less cluelessly into his eyes, his intent clear within your mind. Though, when he'd placed one large hand over cheek to pull you into a kiss, you hadn't quite expected things to progress as they had. 

During the day, you hadn't interacted with him more than usual, though at night, you were expected to knock over his door. Four raps with quick succession would signify your presence, and Satoru would allow you to his room. To begin with, you hadn't spoken all to much, though with weeks merging to months, it had been more often that you would simply share conversation in the other's presence. Lust had bloomed love, though with the differing status, you'd felt your time drawing to close. 

"My parents had me meet someone today." He'd spoken with a reluctance that had your stomach churning, tension evident through the tightness of his body. There had been a stiffness in the air following those words, a feeling you weren't able to let go. 

"Yes?" Although you'd encouraged explanation, he'd allowed moments to pass before providing one.   "A princess; my betrothed." Voice hushed and weak, there had been a bitter emphasis on the latter word, a poison passed from his tongue to yours. You'd swallowed deeply, breath in throat. He wouldn't dare to gauge your reaction, instead remaining slouched in his chair with eyes over the open fire, fist clammy and clenched over the ornately carved arms.

"Oh." 

There had been many things you'd wished to exclaim, a form of comfort to be manifested, though thinking about losing time beside him with another to take your place had pained you all too much. 

"I don't want this." Satoru had spoken through only lightly parted lips.  "What will happen to us?" Part of you hadn't wanted to hear his answer, to instead play out your fantasy even if it would mark you mad. But, the glimmer of hope that had flickered among the flames had been snubbed out once he'd finally turned to face you, an emotionless gaze as he'd swallowed his feelings. 

"We always knew it would end." With those words you'd felt your stomach drop, a sensation much like being pierced with a dagger, the blade twisting within your gut. Although he'd been correct, there was always the burden of his duties, you had still found the truth difficult to accept. 

"Can we-" You paused as a wry sob escaped lip, a tear rolling over cold cheek. "Can I have you for one last night?" There was a stillness as you'd closed your eyes in embarrassment, though a gentle creek in Satoru's chair had signified his movement, a hand encasing your features to wipe the droplet from your skin.  "That sounds tragic." 

If his fingers hadn't interlaced with your own to be placed over his heart, lips ghosting your trembling ones, you would've taken his words as rejection. 

The salty taste of tears had been apparent the first moment his lips had pressed to yours. You'd inhaled sharply, a sob against him as he'd tilted your head back, a quick dart of his tongue against yours. He'd kissed you as he had that first night, with a sense of longing and loneliness, a reminder of solace found between two lost souls. 

Satoru had felt his grip tighten when he'd reminded himself this would be the last time, a squeeze over your skin as if to memorize each dip and curve. He ran his hands over your body, savoring the way you'd felt beneath his touch, even if each movement had pained him. You'd allowed him to guide you toward the four poster bed you'd found yourself tangled within most nights, back hitting familiar sheets beneath. 

As your arms reached around his shoulders, his fingers found their way to your undergarments. With night, you hadn't the usual layers, a uniform replaced with only a nightgown and shorts. Satoru had tugged them down, slipping the garment over thigh t leave your lower half bare. The skirt of your dress had ridden up to pool at your stomach with his lips still attached to your own. 

Your hands had trembled when you'd repeated the gesture, an unsettled feeling as you'd unbuttoned his trouser, bringing his hips closer to your own. Though his hardness had grazed your slick, he'd drawn himself back. 

"Allow us more time." The soft request had caused you to pause, peering to him with both swollen lips and teary eyes. His grasp had advanced to your nightgown, lifting the thin fabric above your head to free the flesh beneath. If this had been one of the first encounters, your hands would have moved to shield your pride, yet with time and trust, you'd no longer felt the need to hide yourself. 

"Beautiful." Satoru whispered praises over your skin, tender kisses over the warmth as he'd maneuvered over you, tongue flicking and teeth nipping over thicker parts of chest and stomach before reaching thigh. Palms had slipped over your figure, though halting their path when reaching inner thigh, pressing to part your legs, and then hold them open. 

Blue eyes had watched your expression change with a sigh on lip, mouth placed eagerly over the sensitive fold to swirl over bud. You sank back into the headboard, a plush and supportive fabric, appreciating the way Satoru had kneaded your thighs as he'd spelled his name over your clit, his breaths tickling surrounding skin. 

"Satoru..." You'd uttered in pleasure when reaching to tangle fingers through his hair, his appreciation voiced to you by the push of two fingers to your entrance, slowly easing their way to curl within you. A much louder whine had left your lips at the succession, hips bucking toward his face, though with each pulsing twist within your core, you'd felt tears return. 

"Wait-" You sat up, Satoru's lips parting from your folds, a string of spit snapping when he'd brought his face level to yours, concern across his brow. 

"I love you." Voice breaking, you reached to touch his cheek, beckoning him back toward your lips. He'd slid across your mouth as you'd made steady movements against him, saliva mixing with your own. When pulling back for air, you'd felt lost within his eyes, the cerulean swirling before you.

"I love you too." Satoru had whispered against your cheek, a kiss placed over skin. He held you close, large hand encasing one side of your face as his lips had moved against your neck. 

"Must you marry another?" The candle at his bedside table had finally flickered for the last time, a frantic dance growing weaker until finally extinguishing. Grey smoke had swirled at its wake, the only light within the room now emitted from the fireplace. 

"Do you have another idea?" The narrow face had pulled from it's place in your neck, searching your expression for an answer. His heart raced, throat tight.  "We could run." The suggestion had been spoken from a desperate idiot, grasping at her last chances at saving herself. He'd let out a laugh bathed in sorrow, dread pooling through his abdomen. "A prince fleeing his kingdom?" With his low voice, the warmth of his skin over yours, you'd almost been at peace. 

"Perhaps we should kill my father."Although spoken as a joke, there had been some seriousness within his insanity. "No, don't answer that - it would be treason." 

You'd laid back against pillow as he'd placed a kiss over your forehead, finally easing himself into you. Your breath and his had mingled as he'd edged himself to be fully sheathed, acting as both a sigh of relief and a sob of heartache as Satoru's expression feigned bliss. 

He'd never held you so tightly, chest to chest and moving with such leisure, lips refusing to part from your own disregarding breaths or faint groans. You'd questioned when you'd began to aquatint yourself with a prince's body between each working day, when the familiarity and endearment had felt so natural. 

The sensations between thigh had been one you'd become accustomed to, yet on this night, each rock of hips and push to fullness of length had felt more intense than the last. The slow kiss you'd felt enthralled within had your heart racing, fingers caressing the softness of Satrou's cheek and silk-like hair. 

"I'll always cherish you." Broken words had made way between kisses, Satoru's undoing much closer than he'd anticipated. There had been only a few more clashes of skin as he'd pinned his lips to yours in a stillness, stomach stuttering. As the waves crashed around him, he'd been encumbered by emotion, tears spilling from cheek as helpless moans had raked his body. You hadn't heard him come like this before - nor felt his body tremble as it had against you. 

An idle hand ran circles over your skin, an uncertainty of what was to come. If Satoru had known anything, it had been his willingness to try, and he'd questioned what rules he would bend to remain beside you. 

a/n: i hope u enjoyed ! i tried something new with the cover, kinda took a while to find something i liked! i found that i'm running out of manga photos to use lol, and with a more angsty tone i felt this one needed to be a little different!

i was thinking about changing up my theme but i'm still unsure, but if i did i would want a dark fantasy kinda vibe. i am trying to learn how to gradient text but we are not there yet...

[stqrbov]

leon discovers you’re nervous about being eaten out and makes it his mission to change that:

-> no y/n, fem!reader

-> cw: 18+ mdni, lowkey kind of fluffy too, pet names (love, baby), leon being a sweetie, eating out, fingering

-> length: medium, 1.1k words

-> a/n: I just feel like he would absolutely do this, okay

☆☆☆

It starts out innocently enough - the first few times you hook up with Leon are a blur of insatiable appetites and rushed hands. It’s easy to just whine a please don’t stop and keep his fingers inside of you when he starts to move them away in favor of his mouth, or to give in to your building orgasm before he has a chance to eat you out first.

You aren’t worried that it would be bad, of course. On the contrary, from the way Leon did everything else you’re absolutely certain it would be fucking incredible. But you’ve always had this frustrating aversion to letting anyone put their mouth on you: your traitorous intrusive thoughts would come roaring inside your head, blocking you from really being able to enjoy it. What if I smell? What if I’m too hairy and it turns him off? What if I take too long-

You know you shouldn’t feel this way, that anyone worth being intimate with wouldn’t care about things like that. But up until now, no one you’ve ever hooked up with really seemed to notice or care.

Until Leon, that is - until right this very second, in his bedroom after you’ve split a bottle of wine watching a movie. Your mouth is already kiss-bruised, he’s practically clawed your clothes off save for your underwear, and he slowly trails a line of kisses down your chest, down your stomach, to the top of your soaking wet panties that he’s now gently pulling down-

A jolt of nervousness runs up your spine, and you gently grab his hair, tugging a bit upwards. He looks up at you, his mouth inches from your now-exposed folds.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is deep, gravelly, sick with want. You don’t really know how to respond, feeling self-conscious about feeling self-conscious in the first place.

“Uh, I…” You swallow. “You can just use your hands…”

It takes a second for Leon to understand what you’re saying. His head still hasn’t moved from where it’s hovering. “You really don’t want me to eat you out, do you?” It’s not accusatory. “Did I do something?”

“N-no, it’s just that…” I’m worried I smell bad was the rest of the sentence, but it dies in your mouth.

“Is it because you’re nervous, or something else?” It’s almost frustrating how kind he’s being about this - it would be easier if he just shrugged and got himself off like everyone else did. But Leon has never been like everyone else. You haven’t even known him for that long but you can tell he’s kind, attentive, and wants to make you feel good. The thought even makes you bold enough to answer truthfully.

“Nervous.” Your voice is small. You’ve never been this vulnerable before, and it makes more words come out without thinking. “It’s fine, you really don’t have to-”

Leon’s eyes finally leave yours and look back down. He gently runs the tips of two fingers up your wetness and circles around your core slowly, making you moan and arch involuntary. “I really, really want to.” He circles a bit faster. “Only if you’re hesitating just because you’re nervous,” he amends. Always so aware of your needs - it’s why you keep coming back to Leon.

You hesitate, but against your better judgement say okay before you change your mind. The way there’s a bit of a growl in his voice drives you wild, and you suddenly find yourself curious of what he’s capable of. The moment you affirm him he sighs with need, and then his tongue is inside of you. You gasp at the feeling of him tasting you with greedy, languid strokes, all the while still working your clit with growing speed. His free hand is gripping your thigh, digging into it with just enough force to make you moan.

Leon lifts his head for a moment, his pupils blown, eyes sparkling. His gorgeous pink pout is gleaming with your slick. “How are you doing, love?” His fingers finally move from where they’d been to dip inside of you, mingling in the spit and wetness dripping onto the sheets.

“G-good,” you gasp as he does something with his fingers that makes your toes curl. “Are you doing okay?” You were doing great, incredible even - the absence of Leon’s mouth leaves you aching for it to return. But that small, anxious part of you still makes you pry, wondering if he’s just doing this because he’s nice, because he feels like he owes you something after all the head you’ve given him.

The question seems to darken Leon’s expression; he swiftly withdraws his fingers, seemingly understanding the unspoken questions you’re really asking him. He descends on you again, this time a little more roughly, licking up and down your folds before shoving his tongue deep, deep inside of you. You hear him swallow everything he’s got in his mouth, and he moans a little bit as he does.

“You taste so fucking good for me, baby,” he groans, then plunges three fingers in to you while he works your clit with his tongue. You spasm around him. “You feel so goddamn perfect,” he slurs while his mouth is still around you. It jolts something in your stomach - you feel yourself building up to an orgasm, and the very thought of climaxing into his mouth makes you get even closer.

“You’re doing so well,” he croons, using the tip of his tongue to glide over all your sensitive areas. For a moment he looks up, his face practically feral and glistening with your juices. “I’m having the time of my life, baby.” His words make you spasm again, and his eyelids flutter. In a second he’s back on you - he knows your body well enough at this point that he can tell you’re close.

You can’t help yourself: the orgasm is so, so close that it makes you fist a hand in his hair as you arch upwards into him, begging Leon not to stop. He moans, his grip on your body tightening to the point you know you’ll bruise. “That’s right, I want to taste you. I know you can cum for me.” Leon’s gruff whine, in tandem with his fingers and that tongue, send you over the edge.

A tremendous throbbing wracks your body, concentrated where Leon’s tongue is still sliding inside of you in rhythm with your spasms. You feel him drinking everything, his lips closing around your hole so that nothing escapes. Finally your movements cease, and he slowly moves his head away, looking up at what an absolute wreck you are.

“Sounds like you had a good time,” he smiles. A drop of you runs down his chin.

“I think we can get another one out of you.”

[stqrbov]

just thinking about exhibitionism w/ leon and he's literally letting you up for free use, >////<

Leon Kennedy x afab! Reader

content warnings: smut, sexual content, exhibitionism, free use, degrading and praising, reader is tied up, blindfold, p in v sex (lots of it), double penetration mentioned but not actually done

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

leon who is completely obsessed with your body? who’s obsession only grows stronger and deeper with time. soon, it’s not enough for him to just see you fall apart and cry for his cock. oh no. he needs to show you off completely to others.

leon who just needs others to see what he gets to fill up every fucking day. multiple times. he’s never satisfied no matter how much he fucks you. he can hardly take a breath without his cock springing to life, hard as fuck at just the thought of you. how could he keep it all to himself?

leon who believes that nothing worth having should be kept hidden.

leon who wants to make others jealous. he can’t help it, it’s almost instinctive for him. they don’t understand the depths of heaven he’s found through your body. your naked body being spread wide open for him, it’s like the angels are granting him his eternal paradise. what is a god without a following of loyal, devout worshippers? you were sculpted by the gods themselves and deserved to have people worship at your alter.

leon who has a small group of trusted buddies that he’d trust with his life. and you were his whole life. why wouldn’t he trust them to see the most scrumptious masterpiece ever created. show them why he always bails on them. why would he ever wanna go out when he has this waiting for him at home?

leon who finally fucks you in front of his friends. they try to hide their bodies responses as they avoid your eyes while watching leon fuck into you. but as time passes, they all begin openly watching every little movement. you can see their cocks throbbing through their pants, begging for attention. but they can’t touch them. you laid out the rules they only get to watch, not receive anything.

leon who becomes addicted after the first time. he organizes more meet ups for them to watch you two. with the same rules as before, until finally you agree to let them touch themselves while watching you. “you like that, baby? like people getting off on watching you? look into his eyes while i fuck you. look and think about how much of a whore you are. they’re all touching their cocks for you.”

leon who isn’t satisfied with people just watching you get fucked anymore, he wants them to feel it. it starts with little caresses here n there on your breasts and ass. it slowly escalates to longer touches, touches inching closer and closer to restricted areas. and then one day, something snaps and all bets are off.

leon who jerks his cock in your face as you stare up at him, barely able to keep your eyes open as his friend hammers his cock right into that spongy spot inside of you. “still needy for my cock even though somebody’s already railing inside you? such a good whore, huh?”

leon who ties you up, your arms above your head and legs spread open, each ankle secured to their respective bed posts. who blindfolds you and let’s his friends do whatever they want to you. you have no idea who’s touching you, no idea how many are staring at you at any given time, and holy fuck does it make you that much wetter.

leon who whispers praises into your ear while his friends fuck you. “you’re taking it so well. making me so proud. such a good baby for me.”

leon who definitely researches double vaginal penetration often.

leon who pampers the shit out of his prize after every single session. doesn’t matter how many people use you, you’re still his most prized possession.

~masterlist~

[stqrbov]

𝗡𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 *+:｡.｡

summary. “I’ve known Geto since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it.” | wc. 3.5k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, college au, fratboy!geto, slightly dark content, obsessive behavior, smoking (not by the reader), frat parties, dubcon, cherrypicking, degradation, jealousy, slightly yandere, deception, pet names (ex. pretty girl, baby), intended for 18+ readers

an. I haven't posted in what? two weeks?? maybe three? and I'm surprised people are still following me after how dry it's been on here...heh (thank you if you stuck around while I was away). enjoy a repost, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

You met Geto at a frat party Shoko dragged you to after listening to you complain (for the third time that week) about classes and a paper due next month—and you couldn’t say that you were too upset about it now that you were standing beside him. 

He was twice your size. Easily a head taller than you, which had your stomach twisting into neat little knots.

Geto was the type you’d usually avoid and admire from afar. Because rich, popular guys like him didn’t have time for unspecial girls like you. But he too easily derailed that thought without doing more than flashing you a smile.

It should be disconcerting how openly you were staring, not even trying to hide how your eyes traveled from the perfect bun atop his head to his broad, slightly tanned chest. His open, silky, short-sleeve button-up revealed a necklace dangling low around his neck and a glimpse of a tattoo that started at his ribs and trailed down beyond his shirt.

You almost felt a little underdressed, standing beside him in just a cropped sweater and tennis skirt.

“Hey, I’m Geto,” he said. 

His voice was nice. Low and sweet. Sly, in that way most guys like him tend to embrace after years of getting what they want.

Then you realized he had been talking to you, the corners of his mouth curling as he stared at you expectantly.

Embarrassment swam through your veins as you shyly gave him your name before shifting behind Shoko until the heat in your face melted away. Geto's lips twitched, bringing his cup to his mouth with a hand covered in rings—you wanted to disappear into the floor.

It wasn’t until after he plied you with a few fruity drinks, your head a little fuzzy and less anxious, that you relaxed around him, swaying on your feet towards him instead of away. The slight buzz had words easily falling off your tongue, and you were surprised to find that he listened instead of going glassy-eyed the longer you went on about classes and your work study.

Your fourth cup in, you followed him into the corner of the living room on a lumpy old couch where Geto sat with you in his lap—you weren’t even sure what you were talking about anymore—while he took long drags from a blunt you let him roll up on your thigh.

He offered you a hit, which you politely declined, and he pulled you along with him when he leaned back further into the couch, his voice close humming along your eardrums and his lips softly brushing against your ear.

Geto turned his head to blow out another hazy cloud of smoke before leaning in to ask if he could taste your drink.

“S-sure,” you breathed shakily, about to give him your cup, only to freeze when he kissed you instead.

He chuckled when you released a startled squeak against his mouth—the faint smell of weed on his breath fanning across your face and making you slightly light-headed. Then his tongue sought out yours, and the taste of mint and cheap vodka graced your tastebuds. 

You sighed, subtly rubbing your thighs together, and before you could even return the kiss, he’d pulled away with a wry smile.

“Tastes good,” he hummed, a warm hand gently running along your thigh. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip, and you watched his gaze track the movement. “Can I have another?” 

You were already leaning in before he could finish asking.

He texted you while you were hunched over a petri dish in the lab on Tuesday. 

Then, while you were studying in the library a week later—another victim to you venting about your paper, though it felt like he made an effort to understand—after a long shift and bus ride home, followed by a steady succession of texts for several days straight. 

You thought he was sweet, in his own way—little things that made your heart flutter like butterfly wings and stomach bubble with anxiety because this was bound to crash and burn. But one crooked smile, and you suddenly forgot why guys like him were off-limits.

Sometimes, he’d bring you coffee after long nights of studying, and it made you sway on your feet whenever he’d tuck hair behind your ear after it fell out of place.

You’d find yourself pressed against your soft bed whenever Shoko wasn't around while Geto licked away the little whimpers dripping from your lips. Some days it went further than that, where the messy grinding and needy kisses weren’t enough, and his hand would tease up your skirt to smooth over your drippy-wet cunt through damp underwear. 

However, it didn’t go beyond dry-humping and heavy petting because—

“I’ve never done this before,” you admitted softly, staring up at your speckled ceiling. Too afraid to see the look on his face until the hand still delicately wrapped around your throat suddenly forced your gaze back on him.

It was as if something about him almost shifted, dangerous, eyes as dark as pitch in the soft light of your bedroom lamp. But it dissolved with a syrupy smile as he squeezed your hips. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

The amount of trust you had for him after only a couple of weeks should be alarming—

You grin at him instead of thinking about it too much. A dumb and foolish part of you held onto the fact that he promised.

And you believed him.

Or wanted to. 

“Slow,” you agreed, kissing the edge of his mouth.

A month goes by, and you could only keep the secret from Shoko for so long before she finally caught you smiling like a love-sick idiot over a text Geto sent one day. She wasn’t as upset as you’d expected; she almost seemed disappointed.

And that was somehow worse.

She warned you not to take anything seriously that came out of Geto’s mouth because he had a habit of running the same script on every girl he met.

“I’ve known him since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it,” she told you, pointing her coffee spoon in your direction.

“Oh.”

Shoko reached over and patted your shoulder at the look of dejection on your face. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt, alright?”

You turned over Shoko’s words in your head because you knew this.

Part of you knew all of this. And yet…

And yet, Geto made it easy to forget.

He texted you that night, inviting you to a party his frat house was throwing.

Are you coming? 

You told him you needed to study for a test coming up. Shoko insisted you go to it anyway.

At the party, you scanned the crowd for a familiar head of dark hair until you got dizzy from turning your head so much. And just when you were about to give up and leave instead, you spotted him from where you stood in the archway to the kitchen, and what you saw had your heart sinking bitterly into your stomach.

It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise after what Shoko warned you of—how you already knew that he had an assortment of red flags dangling around his head like thick drapes since the moment you met him.

But you hoped that maybe…well.

You watched Geto share a blunt with the girl in his lap, that familiar crooked smile curling his mouth as cherry-red lips wrapped around the end.

Some of you wondered if someone else had looked at you with the same amount of pity when they witnessed you falling so easily for Geto’s soft-spoken words and recycled pick-up lines—the sweet, shy girl who didn’t know any better ensnared in a neatly woven trap.

He caught your wide-eyed gaze from across the crowd with his bloodshot one, though you didn’t stick around long enough to see what he did after that because you were already walking back home.

You were a bit heartbroken, or that was what you called it, for the first few days—ignoring the texts he’d send late at night and leaving for class earlier than usual to avoid bumping into him.

Avoiding him was more difficult than you thought since his friends ran in the same circles as your roommate. And lately, he seemed more interested in movie nights, or somehow, he always needed to borrow notes from Shoko for a class.

Those days, you sat next to Gojo when there was nowhere else to sit in your cramped living room—none the wiser about the fact that Geto had a strained relationship with your new couch mate.

At parties, you no longer paid attention to where he was in the room, choosing to hover by Shoko and her girlfriend the entire time. It was only during a moment of misplaced curiosity that you finally looked over, already finding Geto’s darkened gaze on you, sneering as you talked and laughed with other guys.

Decent guys.

This game of cat and mouse went on for two more months: Geto trying to get you to notice him, and you acting utterly oblivious.

Because it was easier this way, and eventually, this will all get brushed over and become nothing more than a minor slip in your decision-making.

It bothered him for reasons he couldn’t put into words. He could have a different girl warming his bed almost every weekend, and before he met you, he never batted an eye when they stopped talking to him once they found out that he wasn’t interested in anything other than sex.

Yet, here you were, taking over his every thought like a fucking disease.

He saw you walking around campus with guys that were nothing like him—guys that probably didn’t get high five days out of the week, that willingly took you out on proper dates, that bought you flowers and walked you to your door—then he’d creep onto your Instagram and get annoyed by the new number of male friends liking and commenting on how pretty you were.

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t. Really.

But he did.

Geto wondered if you held out for them as you were so hellbent on doing with him or if one of them managed to taint the innocence you wrapped yourself with before he could.

That put a sour taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t wash away with shots of cheap vodka. And after he watched you leave the party with a guy who looked like he didn’t know what to do after getting your underwear around your ankles, Geto decided he needed to find out.

That was one of the worst dates of your life, by far, since the guy didn't even show up. All night, you earned pathetic looks from the restaurant staff while you sat at your table set for two.

What an asshole.

He would get an earful whenever you saw him in your Psych class on Monday. You’d make sure of it.

You washed off your makeup and sticky hairspray, hoping a warm shower would help brighten your sulky mood.

Your soft, fluffy towel was at least a small comfort as you stepped out of your steamy bathroom to get a change of clothes. Only, you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Geto lounging on your bed in a black hoodie and grey sweats—his long legs hanging off the edge so he could spread his knees, accentuating the very obvious bulge between his thighs.

He gave you a wry smirk when he caught you staring. 

"Should learn to lock your doors, sweetheart. Never know what kind of creep might sneak in."

Finding him sitting on your bed, uninvited, should terrify you more than it did, and all the alarm bells going off in your head clearly indicate that you should tell him to leave instead of standing there clutching your towel to your chest.

"What are you doing here, Geto?" you asked quietly.

He blatantly ignored your roused suspicion, unable to stop himself from thinking about how cute you looked, skin soft and dewy from the shower you just took, a scowl painted on your features. 

Fuck. He wanted to ruin you, to see how flustered you could get, no matter how many cheap praises he whispered into your ear.

Although tonight, he was set on seeing what you hid behind a thin layer of fabric, finally having what he’d been craving for months. You just needed a little encouragement, that’s all.

Because he was tired of waiting.

Geto sat up, then, now so close that he could reach his hand out and grab your towel. And he did, tugging you closer and watching in amusement as you stumbled between his spread knees on coltish legs.

Finally, he met your gaze: "Isn't it obvious why I’m here?"

You swallowed. "Geto, I—"

He watched your confidence crumble a little when his hands snaked up your thighs under your towel, up, up, up until you were shivering underneath his fingers. 

"I-I made it clear that I didn't want to talk to you anymore."

His brow arched. "Yeah? You don't want to talk to me?” He swiped a thumb through your folds, and you gasped in shock, trembling. “Then why are you so wet?”

Geto could tell that you wanted to deny it, even as he pulled his hand out from under your towel to show off your shiny arousal clinging to his thumb, the pink string lights hanging around your room making it more glaringly obvious.

“I-I’m not—”

“I-I’m not,” he mocked meanly. 

His eyes swam with the same flicker of intensity he showed you that day you told him you were a virgin. Although this time, it swallowed his gaze entirely—the soft brown of his irises washed away by something that had your body betraying you with another rush of slickness between your thighs.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl. Leave the towel on the floor,” he said under his breath, patronizing. “And don’t make me say it again.”

Your back was in an uncomfortable arch as Geto curled over you from behind, large hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

“What do they have that I don’t, hm?” 

You ignored how your stomach plunged at the mere fact that he might’ve been jealous, that perhaps he cared just a little.

“Bet you were whoring yourself out for them, huh?” He sneered, grasping your hair and tugging so you were looking up at him upside down. The odd angle had you wincing in discomfort, and he laughed humorlessly. “You know what I think? I think that you’re secretly a little slut.”

“N-not a, ah, not a slut.”

He slapped a hand down against your ass just to hear the sharp cry he knew you couldn’t hold in, enjoying the pretty picture of tears prickling the corners of your eyes. “Liar.”

“M’ not,” you pleaded as the impact of the next blow against your tender flesh had you gasping for air, your empty cunt clenching almost painfully.

Geto smoothed his hand over the curve of your ass, smiling when you flinched. You looked so fucking wrecked, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it then,” he said. “Prove that you’re only a fucktoy for my cock.”

You wracked your brain, head too dizzy with how fast this was happening to think properly—

“K-kiss me first,” you babbled.

"How about you beg me first," he threw the word back in your face. 

You didn't answer—everything you wanted to say was choking up in your chest. The smile Geto gave you was uncharacteristically sweet, yet it didn't meet his eyes, and he laughed. “Or are you too dumb to think already?”

“Please, kiss me,” you sniffled, lips wobbling. The sight made Geto’s cock twitch.

So fucking pretty, he thought.

You knew he would at least give you this when his eyes slightly softened.

Then his mouth was on yours. Heavy and unforgiving, teeth clacking and nipping at your lips. The familiarity of his lips soothed the overwhelming feeling in your chest and made you feel like you were touching the ground again. 

He always made your brain scramble whenever he kissed you, turning thoughts into air. And you didn’t even realize that he was lining himself up with your entrance. 

His cock heavily slid against your slit once, twice. Up and down, and back up again. You whimpered when he nudged your clit, parting you open slowly. It nearly gave you whiplash with how gentle he was being compared to how he treated you moments before.

"Open up for me, baby."

It was embarrassing when you parted your knees, showing him a part of your body that nobody else had seen before—

"Ah!" you squealed when he unexpectedly pushed in to the hilt, your walls straining to accommodate the new feeling of fullness and trying to push him out. You cried and squirmed in his hold—the stretch too much as you took big gulps of air to make room where there wasn't.

"Huh, looks like you still had a cute little virgin cunt after all," he grunted, jerking deeper inside.

Geto didn't even give you a moment to adjust to his length before he was roughly pounding into you, his balls slapping against the sore flesh of your ass. And all you could do was lay there and take it.

He loved this part, feeling a virgin pussy stretch around him for the first time. It made his stomach twist and his head fuzzy—he swore it was better than getting high.

Suddenly, he shoved you into the mattress, his hands pressing against your shoulder blades to prevent you from moving. The new angle had his cock going deeper, pushing against a soft spot deep inside you that felt nearly devastating when his tip hit it again and again.

Your thighs were shaking, no longer able to control the lewd noises leaking from your lips. The tight coil in your abdomen had you twitching, only coiling tighter as Geto continuously abused that sensitive spot in your cunt. It was so overwhelming and intense that you nearly burst when Geto reached between your legs to play with your sticky-hot clit.

It twitched violently against the rough pads of his fingers. "'m gonna—"

"Shut up," he sneered, his voice dangerously low before shoving your face further into the mattress with a hand at the back of your neck. "Shut up and cum."

No sounds left your mouth, your body seemingly obeying his command. Your thighs clenched, trying to close, but his broad body prevented you from pushing him away. And then—

“Fuck —look at that,” he groaned as you felt a gush of liquid spray between your legs, splashing his thighs and getting the blankets under you sopping wet. All you could do was sob, overwhelmed by how fast he made you cum.

He gave you a rough thrust, a long whine slipping out of your throat. “Gonna fill this pussy nice and full. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

With your face pressed into your comforter, it prevented you from shaking your head no; the only sound coming out through the mouthful of cotton is an mmph, nearly choking on your own drool.

“I’m ‘gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine—shit, keep squeezing me.” He released a feral moan. "Just like that! Good girl."

Geto held you still, his mouth attaching to your shoulder to muffle the loud groan rumbling in his chest as his balls twitched and drew up almost painfully. His hips pressed flush against yours to cum as deep as your cunt would allow, trying to make it stick.

"Fuck," he panted.

Afterward, he tangled you up in his arms, his soft cock still nestled in your snug, tacky-wet walls. Cuddling was the last thing you expected, but you decided not to bring it up lest he got upset.

Nor did you say anything when you noticed the small bloodstain on his grey sweats after getting dressed and his slightly bruised knuckles pulling the cotton up over his hips. You never brought it up, not even as your date from Saturday showed up to class with a suspicious swollen lip and a black eye.

And you didn't ask if Geto wanted to hang out after class. It had just been sex—a one-time thing.

He'd already gotten what he wanted and left. That was always how this would play out: no extra dates or late-night texts. Guys like Geto didn’t do str—et cetera.

You knew this. 

You knew.

However, the dark look he shot Gojo when he pulled you into his lap for movie night could make you believe otherwise, that maybe it was more than sex—

—it was probably best just to keep your mouth shut.

A few weeks later, Geto muffled low groans into his shirt caught between his teeth as he fisted his cock to a picture of you—because you were avoiding him again. 

But that was okay, silly, that you ever thought you could. He already had it planned out how he’d have you again, and just the thought of feeling your tight cunt wrapped around him had Geto painting his stomach white.