#And part of him is just relishing in the feeling of that

[maeveandark]

Shy Tentacle Monster x F!Reader

18+, MDNI cw: somnophilia, noncon themes, voyeurism, stalking, a light sprinkling of yandere, coming inside/breeding, tentacle sex

The timid tentacle monster that lived under your bed shamefully had to admit to himself that he was in over his head. Instead of having his way with you like most other confident tentacle monsters would, your inconspicuous roommate instead had spent the better part of the last year agonizing over how he was going to introduce himself to you--without frightening you of course.

From the moment he'd first slipped through the cracks of your humble abode and laid eyes on you he'd fallen completely and irrevocably head over heels (metaphorically, considering he didn't have neither a head nor heels) in love with you. He'd never seen a human as pretty as you before, never felt his eight hearts race quite so fast or his tentacles twitch quite so eagerly as you walked past him, wrapped in a bath towel and yapping away on your phone, completely unaware of his presence in the shadows.

Your timid tentacle monster vividly remembered that he had to remind himself how to breathe, so completely enchanted he was by you on that day. Once he managed to collect himself and settle under one of the loose floorboards beneath your bed he set his mind to work. Should he wait for you to fall asleep, then slip his tentacles under the covers and explore you to his hearts' content? No, he didn't want to touch you without your permission. Then perhaps he could gently coax you awake, and politely ask if he could help make you feel good? No, you'd surely scream at him and kick him out the door sooner than he could say, "Hello!" Not to mention he'd be devastated if you ended up being scared of him.

So instead, your timid tentacle monster resorted to just watching you, learning all about your little quirks, your hobbies, and your flaws. Every little thing that made you you, he treasured and with each passing day your tentacle monster found himself falling deeper and deeper in love.

Of course, he didn't just want to be some creep living under your floorboards. Shy though he was, your tentacle monster loved you and had a tendency to show his devotion through acts of service. On cold nights he always made sure that you were tucked in warmly beneath the covers. Sometimes he'd even be so bold as to help you with little household chores, smiling to himself at your adorably confused expression.

"Huh, I don't remember taking out the trash."

However, despite the domestic bliss your gentle monster had carefully crafted, there were some nights that had proven to be nothing short of awful. Nights where you'd bring home strange men and let them touch you--let them fuck you.

Your monster hated those nights, he'd curl in on himself as pangs of venomous jealously coursed through his every appendage. It was painful listening to the phony sounds of pleasure you made. He knew what you really sounded like when you were feeling good, so why did you put on such a mind boggling performance for someone who was so undeserving?

And then on one particular night, your timid tentacle monster couldn't take it anymore. He patiently waited for your nameless partner to leave, for you to collapse on your squeaky mattress with a frustrated sigh and doze off before he made his move.

With each an every one of his hearts working in overdrive, your faint-hearted tentacle monster mustered up his courage and slowly slipped his long, slippery appendages under your covers.

He had to repress a deep groan when his tentacles finally came into contact with your skin. Fuck, you felt--and tasted--better than he could ever imagine possible. What a tragedy that you had wasted your time and pleasure on those men, whose clumsy fingers and cloddish cocks couldn't even hope to bring you even a fraction of the pleasure that he could.

After all, he knew you better than anyone.

Your monster relished in your dreamy sigh as his tentacles caressed every inch of your body, coating you in his warm slick as he stimulated every part of you to his satisfaction. He did not dare touch your pussy, not until you were a writhing, mewling mess begging to be filled.

The first orgasm he gave you had come from a mere brush of one of his suckers against your clit. The second from gently stretching your sweet pussy out on three of his thickest tentacles. And the third he'd mercilessly brought crashing down on you both as he frantically fucked and filled your womb with his hot load. He didn't stop thrusting, couldn't help himself from stuffing his seed even deeper inside, until he heard your pitiful whine for relief.

Your tentacle monster had finally thoroughly fucked and bred you, just like a proper monster should. But, as he slipped himself out of you he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. But that feeling immediately subsided when he felt your fingers playfully wrap around one of his tentacles.

"Took you long enough." You softly chuckled.

[enhani-ki]

HII CAN WE GET NIKI AND READER CUDDLING? likt it could be fluff but suggestive too like sometimes his hands wander off to certain places squeezing biting teasing kissing etc etc omg the thought of it makes my knees buckle

tv off - reader x ni-ki

warnings: nsfw, very suggestive content, etc.

"y/n?" ni-ki called out your name as soon as he stepped into the apartment, kicking off his shoes with a heavy sigh because his body was aching with exhaustion. all he wants to do right now is to shower, lay down, and be with you.

his eyes landed on you all curled up on the couch, fast asleep. there's a remote in your hand while the TV played loudly in the background.

you must've been waiting for me… sorry, baby.

running a hand through his messy hair, he let out a deep breath and made his way to the bedroom. he removed all of his clothes and replaced them, no shirt just sweats before rubbing a towel through his damp hair.

he returned to the living room, crouching in front of you. he brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across your face, "babe," he murmured. "let's go to bed."

you woke up slightly, letting out a sleepy hum but instead of responding, you only turned your back to him, snuggling deeper into the couch.

ni-ki sighed and shook his head. so stubborn.

his eyes wandered all over you then his hands instinctively followed. your top hugged your curves, it clung to your body just right. your bare thighs were glowing and glistening under the dim light, practically inviting more of his touch.

he let out another sigh, a little jealous at how peaceful you look while sleeping. so ni-ki finally gave in.

he lay down beside you carefully, wrapping his arms loosely around your neck while his chest pressed against your back. the couch was small and there's barely enough space for the both of you but he liked it. he liked how it forced you two to be so close, now he could feel every inch of you with no distance in between.

ni-ki pressed soft kisses to the side of your neck, "oh, i missed you." he whispered against your skin. his nose nuzzled against your shoulder as he inhaled, breathing your scent in.

you stirred slightly and without opening your eyes, you reached up and held onto his arms like your reassuring yourself that he was really there.

his hand slipped under your top, caressing your stomach before traveling up.

you weren't wearing a bra.

his palm slowly slid over to cup your breast, before giving it a gentle squeeze, relishing the way the soft flesh melted into his hand. his thumb brushed against your nipple, teasing it slightly at the same time he pressed his hips more firmly against the curve of your ass. ni-ki held back a groan.

his lips found your back again, pressing long multiple kisses to the delicate curve of your spine, trailing them up to the nape of your neck which he licked before kissing again.

and for a second, he debated teasing you or waking you up just to hear you and see all of you, but this is also so comforting so his hand just stayed where it was, resting over your chest, warm and secure.

ni-ki smiled to himself before burying his face deeper in your neck, completely falling asleep.

y/n… you're lucky he's too tired.

a/n: lol i like this <3

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read touché - ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read fuckboy!ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read snitch - reader x ni-ki

read exes - reader x ni-ki

read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read Nishimura Riki as your classmate

read he knows - ni-ki x reader x jake

read jealousy, jealousy - reader x ni-ki

[sh4rkkks]

NSFW ALPHABET ⁂ - simon ‘ghost’ riley

i’m back!!! so sorry for such a long break but i hope you enjoy this little treat 🫶

not my template!!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

believe it or not, this man is very awkward in bed. despite his outward appearance of feigned confidence, he’s a complete mess after he’s fucked you stupid. he tries his best when it’s more than a casual fuck, grabbing a warm washcloth to clean you up. if he feels comfortable, best believe he’s crushing you beneath his weight while basking in your warmth as he lazily kisses your neck.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

simon’s- he’s a self conscious idiot abut his body despite being built to the nines, a soft plush layer of fat covering his muscle that makes him all the more desirable. he’s very proud of his biceps though. wrapping the strong muscle around your head as he fucks you stupid makes him feel desired in the bed way possible. seeing the scratches you left after clawing at his arm the night before makes him all the more likely to put you in a headlock later that night.

yours- this man loves everything about you. whether you’re on the more plush side, or have slimmer curves, he’s a sucker for you. i will say however, that thighs really do it for him. the feeling of the warm muscle wrapped around his head as he devours your cunt, or how he can squeeze them as you’re riding him, oh boy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

this man has a breeding kink and you CANNOT tell me otherwise. the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy as you whine and squirm beneath him gets the blood rushing straight to his cock again. he also loves to cum on your plush tummy, watching as it rolls down your waist and onto the bedsheets…

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

loves dry humping. the idea of him getting home from deployment and being so needy he can’t even get his clothes off? he’s just rutting at your pussy through your thin panties, groans leaving his lips as he grabs at your soft skin and curves.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he never had much experience with anything besides a quick one and done before meeting you. but after one night in bed with you he’s practically got a pen and paper to wright down what gets you going. he’s an extremely quick learner, hitting the right spots pretty much on the first try after he’s got you in his bed, relishing in the praises leaving your lips as he asks you how it feels.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary- basic i know..but this man is anything but. he loves to have control in the bedroom, making sure he can see each reaction he can pull from your face as he pounds into you. palms at any flesh he can get his hands on, eventually collapsing on top of you and just absolutely rutting his hips into you for his release.

against the wall- having you pressed flush against the wall as he fucks you is the fantasy that runs through his mind constantly. your back pressed against his chest as he holds you firm to his skin. if he’s fingering you it’s even better, holding you up as your knees begin to buckle under the pure ecstasy that this man is making you feel…

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i wouldn’t say he’s stone faced during sex. he most likely will crack a shitty joke if he’s not pent up. he’s weirdly smiley during sex, not in a creepy way, but he just can’t believe that you’re actually his—actually willing to give him the pleasure of your warm cunt.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i am a strong believer in blonde ghost, so i will say that the carpets do in fact match the drapes. he’s not one for one night stands, needing a lot of the comfort and security that a proper relationship holds. that being said, i think that he trims from time to time, making sure that everything is cleaned up (major neat freak).

however, his partner? truly doesn’t give a fuck. there’s men who want a bush, men who don’t, but ghost really couldn’t care less. whatever you’re happy with, he’ll worship your body all the same.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

like i said before, i think that he craves the intimacy that comes from sex. none of the hate fucking bullshit or having threesomes like some people say (NOT DISPUTING THE HEAD CANONS OF OTHERS) he’s such a broken soul, someone who needs the feeling of intimacy to cope for trauma and the lost feelings of navigating sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

as we all know, he’s in the military. i would say his sex drive is average, so unless he’s seriously missing you, then he rarely jacks off. he’s also in the middle of a war field so he hasn’t got much time to even think about getting himself off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

goes absolutely feral for any type of matching set. this man will be slobbering all over the intricate designs of the matching bra and panties as he tries to ‘contain’ himself. he’s thanking you constantly while he fucks you, your panties wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet that he can’t seem to part with.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

if he were to pick any ideal place, the bedroom. basic i know, but this man is so possessive. he can’t so much as bare the thought of someone else seeing you during the euphoric intimacy. he likes feeling safe in the comfort of your bed or his, knowing it’s a secure place letting his mind ease.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

this man is like a teenager, literally anything will get him going. freshly out of the shower, shaved and dressed in a skimpy set? he’s ready to go. lounging in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, not brushed your hair that day, a face mask on, and brushing the crumbs off your shirt as you sit on the couch? his hands are on you in an instant.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

BDSM. he’s really not into any sort of pain during sex. whether that be you or him, his last thought is to try and cause pain during the special moment. considering his past and trauma he’s sensitive to that sort of stuff, never wanting to inflict discomfort upon you. of course, he wouldn’t mind leaving hickeys and bruises from gripping your hips, and your nails scratching down his back makes him feel weirdly comforted.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

munch. that’s my only word. he’ll get himself off between your thighs, grabbing at the flesh of your ass as he has your legs resting on his shoulders, his hips are rutting at the bed below him. he’s so desperate the bring you any sort of pleasure that he often just gets lost between your legs, unable to pull away when you tug at his hair, whining about overstimulation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

a bit of both. he’s big into the intimacy aspect, but as i stated before about dry humping, he’s sometimes so desperate that he can’t be bothered to go slow. coming back from a month long deployment? he’s got your panties off the second he walks through the door, bringing you down to the carpeted floor as he jackhammers into you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

prefers to have his time with you, get you all stretched out before you take his cock. but he’s literally just a horndog there for your pleasure, so if you need a quickie, your wish is his command.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s pretty vanilla when it comes to sex, not that he’s not an absolute beast in bed, he just doesn’t tend to have any reason to experiment if you’re satisfied. he’s willing to try whatever you want, putting aside insecurities for your benefit and happiness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

military man. give him a few minutes and he’s ready to go as many times as you need.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t own toys, prefers your cunt. if you have toys though, best believe he’s teasing and ruthless about them. pressing a vibrator against your clit as he coos about how ‘my cock no’ good enough, lovie?”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

another kinky bit…but i feel like simon loves to be teased. he’s a pretty usual dom, but when you take control…he’s a goner. teasing you? huge on that. loves pumping his fingers in and out as he denies your orgasm from you, a wicked grin on his face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

wouldn’t say he’s one to moan or anything, but the sounds you do manage to pull are just as good. he’s grunting with every thrust into your warmth, swearing under his breath as his muscles tense. when he’s close it gets much louder, groans slipping from his lips as his head dips between his shoulders, breathing ragged.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

likes watching you change. not even in a sexual way (sometimes). he just admires the domestic feel of you getting ready in the mornings or for bed. watching as you strip naked without a care in the world, not shy to show your body to the man who worships the ground you walk on, sends his head into a mess.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i’d say about 6’5 inches, a couple veins, and heavy between his legs. you’d definitely need some extra massages between your thighs after the fact.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s got a relative sex drive considering his job and everything. however, as i stated before his on switch is the easiest thing to turn on, so i’d say about 2 times a day, maybe 1 depending on how you’re feeling.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

no one can convince me that this man isn’t a major insomniac, constantly staring at the ceiling as he listens to your soft breaths in the quiet night. he falls asleep much easier next to you, so id say he’s knocked out about an hour after you.

[usedtobecooler]

something about eddie munson who loves to be touched and marked until his entire body feels like it’s been set on fire.

he’s flushed from the tips of his ears to his collarbones, writhing and shaking underneath the featherlight touch your fingertips ghost along his spent cock. he’s so limp, brain fogged and he knows he’s only babbling incoherent pleas — crying out and gasping in a sharp breath when your fingers wrap around the base of his soft length, slicked up and dripping with lube so he’s not chafed raw.

his scalp tingles, remnants of where your hands had grabbed and pulled and ratted his curly tresses just a short time ago, when you’d used him to fuck up and down on until you found your own release with a beautiful string of expletives falling from your lips.

his spine and shoulders sting, he knows harsh red lines and sparks of blood litter his alabaster skin, left behind by your sharp nails. his neck littered with dull throbbing bruises, sure to be a deep purple, because heaven knew you liked to bite hard enough to leave teeth indents.

“do you think you can handle one more?” you ask, teeth tugging at his earlobe and pulling, this pretty little demonic giggle escaping you as tears pool down his temples and smear against your chin.

“please, please. i can be good, jus’ wanna be good f’you.” he’s slurring, eyes squeezed tight, the feeling of his cock filling back out teetering on the right side of painful.

he finds his hips jerking back from your quickening pace as much as they jerk towards it, seeking it out just to violently thrash away from it. sweat clings to every part of his body, his teeth clenched as he throws his head back and lets out the most pathetic cry.

your mouth latches on his ribcage, sucking another wet bruise into his skin, marking and claiming more inches of his body as yours. eddie feels like he can’t breathe, an inferno burning in his fucking lungs, flames licking from his bitten lips in the form of weak whimpers and sobs.

“please, please, please,” he hears his voice in his ears but it’s far away, and he can’t tell if he’s begging for more or begging for it to stop.

when he cums it’s basically dry, a few weak splashes that streak his happy trail and barely matte it down. you give it a harsh tug between your fingers, slicking his skin with his own spend just to defile him further, relishing in the guttural, pained cry he lets out.

and you’re so good to him, kissing over the marks you left and muttering praises under your breath, washing the dirt from his skin and lotioning it better.

and once he’s back in his own body, aching but pliant from the pleasure and care he received, he knows he’s ruined for anybody else.

[suugarbabe]

poly!slytherin boys x reader; enzo needs to get his energy out

a product of a @musingsofahufflepuff & sab yap <3

The time of day was unknown to you, but you knew it was early as the only visible light came from the moon peeking through the bedroom curtains. The arm around your waist tightened, Theo nuzzling his face deeper in the crook of your neck while pulling himself closer to your back. Mattheo curled into your front, his grip on your thigh that was hooked over his hip growing strong as he shifted in his sleep. You relished in the warmth of your boyfriends, settling deeper between them to try and drift back to sleep when you realized your usual ambiance of Enzo’s soft snoring was gone. 

You reached an arm behind you, trying to feel behind Theo for the taller boy but came up with nothing. Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms you tried to let your vision adjust to the darkness when you suddenly felt a dip in the bed near Theo and a panting sound. You turned as much as Theo and Mattheo’s holds would let you, only to be met with Enzo’s full Australian Shepherd form smiling and wagging his tail. You laid back with a groan, covering your face with your hands, “You cannot be serious, Enz. It’s like 3am.” 

That did not seem to deter him as he jumped off the bed and ran down the hall. You heard his nails against the hardwood of the living room in what sounded like his running a circle around the furniture. Soon he came bounding back down the hall, his paws quick against the ground as he gained speed. You braced yourself, trying to sink deeper in between both boys to maybe take less of the impact. In a flash, Enzo zoomed across the bed, his paws (thankfully) missing every part of you but apparently hitting multiple parts of Theo and Matty. 

“Oi, fucking hell!” Matty groaned, curling further into a ball and grabbing onto his calf that Enzo’s paw just dug in to. Theo was left cursing in Italian, hand holding his ribs, “Cazzo perché, Lorenzo?” You had to cover your mouth to hold in your laughter, pushing yourself as far back into the headboard as you could. You pulled your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you heard Enzo turn around and head back toward the bedroom. 

He jumped up again, trying to run over both boys. He cleared Theo with ease, only for his front paws to catch against Matty’s hip and sending poor Enzo flying into the wall. “Fucking Salazar…Enzo, I’m going to kill you!” Mattheo groaned and cursed, turning quickly to try and grab hold of Enzo. Matty’s feet got tangled in the sheets, causing him to instead fall off the bed and onto the floor in a heap of curses. Enzo, who at this point was still lying on the ground against the wall, quickly scurries to his feet. 

A deep bark was heard from the ground as Matty clearly chose to transform as well, a German Shepherd now chasing Aussie Enzo out of the room. “Teddy, I swear to Merlin if you don’t go close that door and lock them out…” Theo was nearly as quick as the other two, running to the door and slamming it shut and locking it before running back to bed. Theo curled up to you once more, relishing in the fact that he now had you all to himself. “You know they can just transform back and open the door with their hands, right,” it was a fact you were trying to ignore, but said it to him nonetheless. 

You felt Theo shake his head before burying his face into your neck. You could hear the smirk as he spoke, “No, amore mio…they forgot their wands on the dresser.” 

Several hours later (with uninterrupted sleep), you finally unlock your door fully prepared to see two sleeping dogs in the doorway. A frown settled on your face when they weren’t there. You made your way down the hall, softly calling out for both boys when you made it to the living room and a smile pulled at your lips. 

On the large sofa laid your boys, cutely curled up together. Mattheo laid big spoon, holding Enzo close to his front with a strong arm wrapped around Enzo’s waist. Enzo’s arm held on to Matty’s, while he used Mattheo’s other arm as a pillow. The scene in front of you was so adorable you almost didn’t want to wake them. Until you remembered exactly what caused them to be sleeping on the coach in the first place. Thus began your very loud, very obnoxious breakfast making.

[stxary]

「 ✦ 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒚 ‎✦ 」

❤︎ pairing : bf!jungkook x fem!reader

❤︎ genre : drabble, pwp, non idol au, smut, fluff

❤︎ word count : 1k

❤︎ warnings : explicit content, edging, oral (f. receiving), fingering, thigh slapping, dirty talk, slight overstimulation, rough sex (lmk if i missed anything ! <3)

❤︎ a/n : hi so second fic… do we like the new banner?? 🙏 also this took me so long bc i had the worst writing block ever oh my fucking god

you groaned in frustration when you felt your boyfriend pull out from between your legs for the fifth time that night. your hand in his hair tugged harshly as you whined, unable to move your hips due to the grip he had on them.

“shh, i know baby, i know.” he cooed, licking his lips coated in your essence before bringing them down to your inner thigh and placing a few soft kisses there.

the way he talked in that fake sympathetic voice made you want to sit up and slap him. and you probably would, if it wasnt for the fact that your whole body felt like jelly. so instead, you tugged on his hair once again and whined, your voice coming out as a low croak.

“koo, please.” you looked down between your legs, meeting his dark, lust filled gaze. “i cant- i need to cum so bad.”

a slow grin played on his lips as he hummed, his gaze going back down to your glistening folds. he brought a finger up to flick at your clit, before running it through your folds, relishing in the way you whimpered.

your head fell back against the pillows, already feeling the pleasure he had taken away so many times simmering in your core again. his finger dipped down to trace your entrance, and his eyes flicked up back to your face to see your reaction.

he leaned back down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently, causing you to let out a whiny moan. “jungkook.” you draw out. you didnt even know why, your mind was too hazy to think about anything but the pleasure he was giving you.

his finger slid inside of you, curling it as he sucked on you more insistently now. your back arched as your whines came out in a steady pattern, your body felt like it was on fire.

jungkooks finger pushed in and out of you for a few more times before he pulled it out, replacing it with his tongue. “ohhh, fuckkk..” your hand on his hair tightened again, and your cunt was already fluttering around his tongue. you were so close. you were so damn close to this release you needed so bad. you squeezed your eyes shut and trapped his head between your thighs, trying to prevent him from pulling away and taking your pleasure with him once again.

he moaned into your cunt and gripped your hips tighter, and for a few moments you really thought he was gonna let you cum.

and then he fucking pulled away.

you opened your eyes and scowled at him, your swollen lips parted as a breathy whine came from them. he just stared right back at you with that shit eating grin before placing a kiss on your clit and crawling up your body.

he leaned down and took your lips in a kiss, sticking his tongue past your lips and letting you taste yourself on him. before you even got a chance to enjoy it though, he pulled away.

“gonna give you what you want now.” he murmurs as he pulls his calvin kleins down, his cock springing up. it was throbbing, and the tip was a flushed pink, matching the color dusted on his cheeks.

jungkooks tatted hand wraps around his cock and he strokes it slowly, bringing it so that the tip was nudging your entrance. you whined at the contact, rolling your hips in a futile attempt to get him to hurry up.

a harsh slap is delivered to your thigh, making you yelp. “if you keep rushing me, im not gonna fuck you at all.” his dark eyes meet yours, his words firm but the look in his eyes told you he wasnt gonna keep that promise.

“im sorry.” you whine once again, but he ignores it. he was too focused on the way his cock was gliding through your folds, and the shuddery breaths that were coming from you.

you were about to open your mouth to protest again until you finally feel him pushing into you. you couldve came right then and there, just from the relief of finally getting what you wanted after what felt like forever.

“ohh- fuck, baby.” he groans as he slowly slides himself into you, fingers digging into your thighs. he moves in and out shallowly, letting you relax around him until he finally bottomed out in you.

“move, please.” you plead. you realized you probably sounded really fucking pathetic right now, but you were too horny to care.

and jungkook gave you what you wanted, starting a steady pace that had you throwing your head back, whining out loudly. but he didnt do it because you asked, no. right now he was trying to chase his own release, cause that flick in his brain switched as soon as he sunk himself inside your tightness.

the small grunts and pants that were coming from his mouth had you clenching around him. it was embarrassing how close you were already, and he had barely started.

“s-shit, baby, youre so fucking wet.” he lets out an airy chuckle. “ive gotta start edging you more if it means youll be soaked for me.” he muses as he rams himself into you, focusing on the way your pussy was sucking him in like it never wanted him to stop.

his hands dragged up your sides and planted on the bed beside your head, and he loomed over you, watching your face contort in pleasure. the new angle had you crying out, your back arched as you grabbed at his arms.

your belly was tightening, signaling your rapid release. you were practically shaking under him, so it wasnt hard for him to figure it out. “koo- fuck, im g-gonna-“

“i know baby.” he repeated in that same sweet voice as earlier. only this time, instead of pissing you off, it was what you needed to send you over the edge.

you let out a high pitched moan as you came around him, back arching and nails digging marks into his arms. you felt like you were on cloud nine, finally cumming after being denied so many fucking times.

jungkooks hips stuttered at the sight of your face, blissed out, your cries, and the way your pussy clenched around him. “fuck.” he muttered under his breath, his voice a bit strained. he moved to grip your hips, picking up his pace.

it took what felt like an eternity to come down from your high, and when you did, you could barely process the fact that jungkook was fucking into you way rougher now, at an almost animalistic pace.

“too m-much.” you whimpered, but you made no move to really stop him. you put your hand on his chest, your nails grazing over the skin, but he took your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“just a.. a little more.” he panted out, his brows furrowed in concentration as he felt his own belly tighten. the force of his thrusts had you gasping, the overstimulation in your pussy hurting so good.

and he was right, a few more frantic thrusts and he let out a loud groan, stopping his movements completely to fill you up.

his hands raked up the sides of your body again, his hands wrapping around your waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, then on your lips. he pulled away to look down at you, studying your expression.

“you okay?” he brought his hands up to cup your face, making you open your eyes and meet his gaze. you hum and nod softly, blinking slowly.

“i wasnt too rough?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern. you hum again, this time shaking your head. he gave you a soft smile before kissing you on the lips again, this time lingering for a moment.

he took one of your hands and interlocked your fingers, squeezing your hand slightly. “i love you.” he murmurs against your lips.

© stxary 2025, all rights reserved .

[reverieblondie]

Friends With Benefits

Paring: Rolan x Female Tav

Request: Anon: What about our favorite tiefling wizard, Rolan, and Tav having ended up in a 'friends with benefits' thing with each other, but then- Whoops! Romantic feelings developed! Rolan has since fallen hard for Tav. Now what? (Tav would be open to pursuing something romantic with Rolan, too, but they were also convinced that the archwizard would never be interested in them that way—especially considering the rather rocky start they had—so they didn't dwell on it or get their hopes up, just learned to be content with what they did have with him

@dark-and-kawaii : Rolan in nothing but his socks waiting for you in his tower. Legs spread with the cutest blush, and that tail of his won’t stop thrashing around. He’s trying to be more spontaneous xoxo

I combined the two ask! I hope you all enjoy! 18+ minors DNI! Oral (both receiving) and Riding.

Rolan stands there with an irritatingly smug smirk, but gods, you have to admit as you look at his nude body shamelessly on display as his cock hangs heavy between his firm thighs. As you keep taking in his impressive build you then see he's only in socks… You roll your eyes as you undo your shirt, when did he get so cocky? - oh wait…

"Master Rolan… did I catch you at a bad time… should-" 

Before you can finish your sentence, a mage hand is pulling you by your loose shirt towards him. As soon as you're close enough, Rolan grabs you by the hips and kisses you, a kiss that always feels like more than your little arrangement. 

You two had been back and forth arguing since the very moment you met. The tension between you two had been building till, one fateful night, it hit a fever pitch. Then, before you knew it, you and Rolan were tangled in limbs with heavy breaths and desperate kisses. The next morning you two agreed it was only a one-night deal… but then you ended up riding his cock all morning… 

So an agreement was made; when you two needed, the other was just a sending spell away. And it has been utter bliss since…

Rolan makes quick work stripping off your clothes as his lips caress your flushed neck, "you're late… I sent that message an hour ago…" he mutters as he rolls down your underwear past your hips, his fingers quickly finding your clit and rubbing tight circles making you gasp and hold on to him tighter…

"I- ah~ Was busy!" you lick and bite against his neck, rolling your hips for more pleasure against his hand. 

Rolan moans at the feeling of your teeth marking him, his tail wrapping around your leg tighter, "I was, gods… waiting in socks…" 

"The whole time? How scandalous…" 

"Tav." 

You laugh, leaning to press your chest against his, your arms wrapped around his neck as you kiss him. The first time you kissed, it was all desperate hunger and crashing teeth… but slowly, as you two kept meeting and indulging in one another, the kisses grew softer. Though you refused to find meaning in that… it's just you two getting used to each other… nothing more… Rolan doesn't want more, so neither do you…

Breaking away from his lips, you give him a coy smile, "I could… try and make it up to you…" 

"No, no, it's fine. Just next time, let me…"

"Rolan." you stop him mid-ramble, "Just say yes and don't argue." 

Rolan looks surprised for a second before it clicks and he grins as he leans in, tucking a strain of hair behind your ear, "Fine, make it up to me then…" 

In an instant, you're on your knees rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, relishing in how his legs tremble from just your hand. Slowly you lean in, wrapping your lips around the swollen head, dragging your tongue to taste his tangy precum that makes you suck for more. Rolan's knees shake as he moans, his hand quickly grabbing your hair in a tight fist. No matter how many times you take his cock he always whimpers and moans just like the first time. The best part, however, is when you sink down lower on his ridged length and hollow out your cheeks, sucking as you look up at his beautiful face. His eyes lidded, his lips parted in awe, as his flushed face showed how good you were making him feel. 

"Gods T-tav…" 

You have to hold in your laugh as you keep sucking his cock faster. How quickly that cockiness fades when he between your teeth sucking on his throbbing cock, and his hips buckle down your throat uncontrollably.  You relish in the feeling of his cock stretching your throat, the way your mind clouds, and your cunt drips for more. His breathy whimpers, so soft with a slight pur… you can't help yourself from shoving your hand down to your aching cunt, rubbing your clit in anguish slow circles… It's when you moan against his cock that Rolan rolls his head, gripping your hair tighter before pulling you off and getting you spread out on his desk in a flash.  

Rolan's golden eyes trace over your quivering sex, your legs threatening to tremble in the grasp of his clawed hands.

"I've been waiting for this all day..." he flicks his eyes to yours, giving you that charming smile that always makes your stomach flutter.

His hands grasp firmly on the back of your thighs. Pushing your knees further up to your face before he finally leans down and licks against your quivering slit. Rolan moans from the taste and can't keep himself from the taste and can't keep himself from pushing into you for more. His nose pushes your swollen clit as his tongue plunges into you, desperate for your taste. 

You're gasping for breaths as his dextrous tongue goes in and out. Moaning his name shamelessly as you run your hands through his soft hair, almost grinding yourself against him. The coil in your lower stomach is tightening as sparks start forming in your vision. 

“Mmm… come on Tav… squirt on my face…”

Your face turns bright red as you tighten your legs around his head, embarrassed, "Rolan! You promised you wouldn't bring that up!" you squeak. 

Rolan chuckles as he licks and groans into your cunt, "Hm? But it was so cute… and fun to watch you get embarrassed… making a mess like a filthy girl." 

He gives your clit a nip, and you cry out, "Ah! I… I hate you!" 

"Mmm… you said that last time…" 

Rolan mutters as he slides his tongue through your silky folds before finally wrapping his lips around your clit, humming as his fingers stretch you curling inside till your coil is snapping. That white-hot wave of pleasure rushes over you, crashing over on Rolan eager tongue. 

And that's only the beginning of the night…

You're not sure when you passed out; it wasn't unusual that you two went at it until you were both thoroughly exhausted. Though you've never fallen asleep with him. 

You had the most pleasantly warm dream before you softly woke. It was the best sleep you had gotten in a while. When waking you hadn't fully registered where you were, until you noticed that your pillow was breathing. Jerking up, you're confronted with Rolan's shocked eyes; looking around, you see the early streams of morning lights peering through the window. - Shit, you didn't mean to stay the whole night... 

Preparing yourself for a verbal thrashing for inconveniencing Rolan, you turn back to him, seeing that he's completely unbothered; if anything, he seems relaxed. Rolan has a book in one hand while the other rests around you.

"Sorry, I stayed... didn't mean to be in the way…” As you go to move, you are paused by the feeling of something wrapped around your leg. Rolan flushes a bit as he closes his book and uncoils his tail.

"No, you're alright. I wasn't bothered at all... you're a very sound sleeper." He manages to stumble out as you leave the bed, starting to gather your clothes. Reaching for your robe, you see that Rolan grabs it simultaneously. Your eyes met before he handed over the article of clothing. Rolan quickly averts his eyes as you dress. -really… you just ate me out, and now you're nervous? 

You get dressed, and you hear him clear his throat as you pull on your shoes. 

"Might as well spit out what you want to say now before I leave Rolan; we wouldn't want you festering on it," you say teasingly, turning to stick your tongue out at him. When you get a good look at him, though, you see he's biting his lip, his jaw tight… 

Does he want to end things…

"What are you doing tomorrow evening?" He finally says, "Ah, I want to make another rondeau… 

You give him a smile, "My schedule is clear; what do you have planned? Something new you wanted to try?" 

Rolan seems to perk up at your response. He clasps his hands together and stands just a bit taller. "Perfect! I will see you here at dusk." 

Dusk? That's a bit earlier than you used to? Whatever he has planned for you two must be pretty involved.

A date... No? Just dinner?

The question spiraled through your mind as soon as you met with Rolan. You had been expecting just one of your regular hookups, but Rolan had been waiting outside for you when you arrived at the tower. Then, of course, you made an ass out of yourself, asking if he was that eager to see you. Poor Rolan had looked at you a bit surprised before muttering how he was hungry and asking you to tag along. But the place he took to you feels... a bit more than random.

Low-lit candles, everywhere you look, seem so fancy; from the others, you glance in the room... it's clear to them they are on a date.

But for you and Rolan, that's more complicated... Is this a date? You look up at Rolan, who's adjusting his collar and looking around; he's nervous...that answers that… 

 With the wine poured and food ordered and now placed. You two have an oddly quiet dinner. You try to talk, though it does not flow like usual.

Rolan's golden eyes keep flicking from his plate to your face, and you swear you hear his tail thumping against the hardwood... What is his deal? Finally, you can't take it anymore... he doesn't want people to see you on what could be a date?

 "You know you didn't have to bring me here, I could've just eaten later."

Rolan's jaw tenses, "Do you not like the food?"

"No, it's great… I just don't want to waste your time. I mean, it's a secret, right?"

Rolan avoids your gaze, "Right... don't want to confuse anything..."

Confuse anything? You're trying to be helpful! Uncomplicated too! Isn't that what he wants? Rolan, what the hell do you want!

Dinner wraps up shortly after that. You so badly wanted to talk about the dinner, your relationship, and maybe... how you want more, though the walk back to the tower is quicker than you thought. Rolans shy, nervous demeanor suddenly seems sour as he opens the door. 

This is your favorite part of this arrangement. You love when he takes your hand and gently guides you to his room, the whole way kissing you like you're the most important person to him. He is so sweet and desperate as if he hasn't been able to breathe without you.

But this isn’t how it happens tonight…

"I have some letters to write back to... and the store's books need review... So goodnight, Tav." 

Before Rolan shut the door, he gave you a final look and a tense nod, but the sadness in his eyes caused your chest to feel tight. You wanted to pry, but before you could, the door was shut, and with the click of the lock, you knew the night was indeed done.

It's been days, and it's been total silence... and you're so lonely... Rolan's your friend; he's more than a friend, and now you're in some weird space.

Uhg, you miss the days when he would just yell at you, this silence treatment is agonizing.

You miss his attitude, dorky mannerisms, glowing eyes looking over you in the dark, and adorable lisp. If you're honest, you miss everything about Rolan; you don't make it a habit of not seeing for this long; it's getting close to a week, and you need to hear him being huffy over anything, if that something is you. 

That's how you found yourself here in Sundries, wanting to be looking at Rolan instead of his purple projection. Feeling dejected, you slump onto the front counter, looking up at the smiling figure.

"How can I help you, valued customer?" It sounds enough like him, but you can hear that slightly cold artificial edge.

"Where is the real archmage?" You ask slightly bitter.

The projection regards you with a change in its smile, staring silently... "Currently, the master is busy...".

You sigh. That's code for him avoiding people right now, and that makes me feel even worse.

"I miss you..." It rolled out of you so quickly that you didn't even realize what you said. 

You look up the projection; it is still unchanged, but you need to vent.

"I don't miss what you think... I miss your warmth, your voice. Just being close to you."

The projection stays quiet, and the shop is busy... This should be embarrassing... but all you can focus on is how he has Rolan's exact features. So you keep talking…

"I love being your friend... and our arrangement, but I want more... I don't know if that was because I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I don't want you to think I'm just using you..." You pause and pick at your hands for a second before looking back up at the projection again. "Was it a date?" Of course, it says nothing... Please just say something. 

You reach out your hand to him, and your fingers go right through... you want to laugh at the irony of it all...

You stay focused on its hands, "Rolan, if I tell you I love you, what would you say back..."

"What the bloody hells!"

Shouting from upstairs makes the whole shop look up. You see a flushed Rolan staring daggers down at you.

"Ro…" 

Before you can say anything more, he's storming down the stairs and approaching you. 

"After that night, what you said. Now you're telling me telling me you love me!"

He's yelling, but he's talking... Wait, how did he hear you? "You heard?"

"Of course I did! I have a hearing spell attached to the projection just in case." He huffs, folding his arms.

"Wait. Are you mad?"

“Yes! I finally got the nerve to ask you on a date, which goes terribly! And now, days later, you're! Confessing! I had a plan, you know!"  You can't help but smile at his flushed ranting, amused at how cute he looks with his tail whipping about.

"A plan?"

"Yes! A really good one!"

Tilting your head, you step closer with a smile, silently prompting him for more explanation. Rolls his eyes before starting.

"I was going to ask you out to a romantic dinner... then afterward, I was going to grab your hands, pull you in for a kiss, then confess how I've been falling more and more in love with you every day I get to see you... But no! As usual, you uproot my plans! I swear you are-"

You couldn't take it anymore, so you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Right in the middle of his shop, no more secrets, no more hiding the desire, no more lying about your feelings. 

You finally pull away, smiling at his starstruck eyes, "I love you." he says, making you want to kiss him more.

You hold him tighter… "I love you too."

[nephilimeq]

Come Fly With Me

Prompt: Surprise

@bucktommyfluffebruary

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/161852191

Tommy let out a sigh as he stepped through the front door of his house, having just gotten off the shift from hell. Normally he loved being in the air—but after the stunts he’d had to pull that day, his entire body felt like one big bruise, and he had no desire to do anything for at least twenty-four hours.

“Hey, babe, is that you?”

Evan.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve got some great news! Like, you won’t believe how awesome it is, I can’t wait to tell you about it,” he called out to him, and Tommy just blankly stared into space, absently kicking the door shut behind him as he let his duffle bag hit the floor with a dull thud. His boyfriend’s enthusiasm was sweet, but the airman found that he couldn’t return the energy and simply grunted back at him as loudly as he could, dropping all of his things just inside the door, kicking his shoes off and leaving them lying haphazardly in the entry way as he made his way towards the living room…

…and then he collapsed face first onto the couch in a tired heap.

He lay there for a while, debating whether or not he should simply fall asleep right then and there, every part of him saying that he should—but his mind scolded him, telling him that his back would hate him for it, and he knew that it was right.

Though that didn’t change the fact that he was far too comfortable…and then he heard footsteps coming from the archway into the living room and absently lifted a hand and waved it, saying in a muffled voice, “Hey, sorry, tired,” and he heard his boyfriend chuckle and say, “Yeah, I can see that. Sorry, babe.”

He then felt a warm hand on his lower back, and he hummed in the back of his throat.

“Mmm, feels nice…” He relished in the touch, and then blearily asked in an attempt to try and engage in conversation, “Wha’s your news?”

“Nothing, never mind. It can wait until later,” and Evan’s light touched turned into a firm, massaging stroke, and Tommy moaned, his mind blue screening and all he could focus on was the way his boyfriend was giving him a much needed massage, eventually bringing in his other hand and removing every inch of the stress of the day from his body. He didn’t know how long it lasted—but it was long enough that his stomach softly grumbled, and Evan chuckled.

“Want me to heat up some leftovers?” he suggested, and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, would you? I’m just so tired…though the massage seriously helped,” he replied, slowly rising up onto his elbows and casted a look at his boyfriend over his shoulder. “But seriously, before you go get the food, what was your good news? You sounded really excited…”

Evan shook his head.

“It can wait.”

He thought about pushing—but then decided that if Evan said it could wait, then it could wait. He was starving.

Less than twenty minutes later, his boyfriend had brought them both plates from the kitchen laden down with his leftover pasta casserole, and Tommy managed to find enough energy to sit up straight and enjoy every single bite of it, letting out a contented sigh as he popped the top button of his jeans after putting his plate down on the coffee table in front of them, and then propping his feet up on the edge and giving the younger man a loving glance.

Smiling, he said, “I think I might go up another pant size because of you,” and patted his stomach, thinking about the ring that he’d ordered and how he couldn’t wait to get it onto his finger in the next few weeks.

Hopefully.

Evan gave him a half-hearted smile…and then he said, “Hey, uh…I wasn’t going to ask, but about a week ago you took a phone call, and you said you were switching shifts with Lucy this past week—but I heard a man answer the phone when you made the call. I-I don’t want to sound insecure or-or suspicious, but I was just wondering if—if you…”

Tommy felt his breath catch. Shit. That was the phone call he’d received about the ring being ready, and since he’d ended up switching shifts anyway and working exactly when he said he would be working, he didn’t think anything of it—but now his boyfriend had questions and he needed to answer them without tipping him off about the truth…and said, “Yeah, okay, it wasn’t Lucy who called, but I did end up switching shifts with her, so I didn’t lie about that. So, let’s just say…it’s a surprise and I want you to trust me.”

He gave his boyfriend a look.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that…especially since I have a surprise for you, too,” Evan said, giving him a sly look.

“Yeah? What kind of surprise?”

At that, Evan moved his own plate to the side and grabbed at the airman’s hand and gently squeezed it and said, “I, uh…I’ve been looking around at some places, trying to find some information about helicopters and stuff like that…and, uh…well, I found this.”

He pulled out a piece of paper that he’d folded up into his front pocket and handed it to him.

Tommy arched an eyebrow and looked down at the paper, squinting slightly because he didn’t have his glasses—and then Evan said, “Oh, wait, here,” and reached over and grabbed his glasses from the end table on his side, and he smiled as he slipped them on in order to read the paper…

…and then just about swallowed his tongue.

Right there in black and white ink was the words explaining that all he had to do was sign on the dotted line and he would have full ownership of his own personal helicopter and it would be kept at an airfield only half an hour from his house. The payment plan was easy and—to put it in simple terms—was the best fucking goddamn deal he had ever seen for such a high-end machine. Tommy stared at it, baffled, trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Evan, how…how did you…? The-the down payment alone…”

“I saved up for it. I’ve had some money set aside for something like this for a while now,” he softly admitted, giving him a shy smile. “I’ve been texting with Sal, too, and he mentioned that you’ve been looking for a helicopter for a long while, and this…well, it just so happens that I know someone in the business and used a few of my old connections to find something that you would like, and asked Sal to confirm it…so…you like it?”

Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, one hand wrapped around the back of Evan’s head, and as he pulled back he said, “I have never been so in love with you than I am in this moment,” and Evan chuckled.

“Really? Well, if I knew that finding you a helicopter would earn me this, then I would have done it sooner…”

They shared a smile.

And then Evan added, “You wanna take it up?”

--

Tommy still couldn’t believe it as he steered the chopper through the air with his boyfriend in the copilot’s seat, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Evan had somehow managed to find him the best deal he had ever seen on such a high-end machine.

The feel of the rotors thumping above his head reminded him of Evan’s heartbeat.

“God, this is so cool!” his boyfriend exclaimed over the headset, and the airman grinned and replied, “Hey, I told you when we met that I would show you a good time!”

It was the next morning after Evan had told him the news about the helicopter, and he was almost giddy with euphoria as he turned them over the dunes and headed back towards the airfield. They had been up in the air for almost an hour, but the bird had been taken up with a full tank, and now it was time to take her back in. There was a familiar sense of freedom as he banked low and wide, purposely angling out over the water, and he wondered if Evan could feel it, too.

Just as he thought about him, Evan suddenly said, “Hey, maybe we could use this for a date night sometime. What do you think?” and Tommy said, “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” already knowing exactly when and where it would be, the thought of a ring being involved making him grin like an idiot.

He was grateful for the size of the headset as it blocked some of his face from him, keeping his boyfriend from figuring out anything too quickly.

It had been next to impossible to make his plans to propose to him when Evan was so focused on him—mind you, he loved the attention, but it was like trying to hide a brand new chew toy from a dog that was constantly following you around all the time. He knew the metaphor was a bit rough, and he didn’t like comparing his boyfriend to a dog, but when they were together, Evan was surprisingly—persistently—almost always in his personal place.

Again, not that he was complaining.

Actually, he kind of loved it.

“You really have an amazing job, babe,” Evan said, taking him out of his head, and he replied, “Evan, we have the same job,” and shot him a sideways glance, and his boyfriend shook his head and said, “No, not really. I mean, we both fight fires, but you…you’re up in here in the sky almost every day seeing things that most people will never see. You have the chance to do things that a lot of people only dream out, you know? It’s really…it’s really somethin’ else,” he finished, sounding genuinely amazed, and Tommy smiled.

He couldn’t wait to marry him.

He finally brought the chopper back to the airfield, landing it with all the skill of someone who had done it over a thousand times before (he had), and as they made their way back to the main gate, he grabbed at his boyfriend’s elbow and tugged him into a corner and then planted a heavy kiss on him, pinning him to the wall as he used his mouth and body to tell him how grateful he was for the amazing, insightful gift.

“Mmf, what…what was that for?” Evan said, pulling back slightly, and Tommy smirked and rubbed his thumb against the base of the younger man’s neck and retorted, “That was for being the most amazing boyfriend ever. I still can’t believe you did this for me, Evan…”

His cheeks pinked and he ducked his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I guess I thought that you deserved it, you know? After everything you’ve done for me and for all the lives you’ve saved over the years, it just seemed like you should have something like this,” he said with an earnestness that made the airman’s breath catch in his throat.

He then used his thumb to tilt Evan’s head back up and levelled his eyes on his.

“You…god, I love you so much,” was all he could think to say…

…but apparently it was enough as his boyfriend’s eyes lit up and he gave him that smile of his that made his heart skip a beat every time he saw it—and Tommy couldn’t help himself and leaned back in and kissed him a second time, this time allowing his thigh to slip between his legs and his hands to wander down to his ass, hoisting him up slightly, using the wall behind them as leverage, thrilled when Evan let out a needy moan and ground down slightly against his leg.

He then panted out against his lips, “Won’t we…won’t we get caught?” and Tommy smirked and said as he pushed his thigh tighter against him, “We’re the only ones here, right now, so no. Wanna fool around?” and he grinned.

God, he loved him.

...he couldn't wait to marry him.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light drinking, MDNI, NSFW, Gojo is a menace to society, stalker Sukuna?, smut smut smut, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex A/N: I literally had this part written out and rewrote it entirely bc I ended up hating the direction I took initially 🥴 also if you can’t tell I love writing Gojo and I stg I wish he was my friend (with benefits) index part eight | part ten

part nine word count : 4,580

It had been two weeks since Sukuna had found you in the bar. Two weeks since you’d sent him that text. And two week since he last felt sane.

Being kept at arm's length hurt more than Sukuna would like to admit. He’d tried everything – good morning texts, sending you flowers, even having lunch delivered to your office. We’re talking the fucking works, and yet you were still hesitant to trust him fully. You were still determined to keep your distance, and he understood that. Hell, he knew he deserved it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.  

He missed you. Fuck he missed you a lot more than he thought possible. You brought a light back into his life, challenged him, made him feel alive. And, to make matters worse, Sukuna couldn’t bear to hear Gojo whine about your absence like a child anymore. 

Speaking of... one thing he hated worse than the cold shoulder? Finding out that you’d been secretly befriending the enemy.  

That was the issue he hated even more than your cautious distance—the growing friendship between you and Gojo. To Sukuna, Gojo might as well have been the enemy, even though he wasn't really. But seeing the self-satisfied smirk on the little shit’s face when he replaced Sukuna as your after-work companion was more than he could bear. Gojo delighted in rubbing it in, especially after enduring two weeks of distance from you, never letting him forget it. 

Sukuna swore he was not a jealous man. No, he had enough of an ego that he didn’t need to be concerned about such trivial things. But this stung. Were you really not affected by his absence? Did you really have to stoop so low to make Gojo your best friend? Gojo – of all the fucking people? 

This inner turmoil had driven him to this moment. Now, Sukuna sat hidden in a shadowy corner of the bar, his hood drawn over his head, watching you laugh and drink with Gojo. It was torture seeing you so close yet so out of reach. In the bar you two spent so much time in.  

And Gojo seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Sukuna was sure that bastard had a sixth sense because the moment you both walked in, Gojo's icy blue eyes had clocked him from the doorway. Yet, you seemed blissfully unaware, and Sukuna was left to brood in silence, wondering when Gojo would drop the bomb. He’s sure he’d enjoy it. 

Gojo was in fact enjoying it very very much.  

He had Sukuna in the palm of his hand right now. Gojo never thought he’d see the day the Sukuna cowered against the wall like a hurt little puppy, and he was relishing in the sight. "So, what's on tap for today? Cosmo? Lemon drop?" Gojo teased, pushing his sunglasses down his nose with a smirk. "Sex on the Beach?" 

You rolled your eyes, dismissing his antics. "Quit acting like a child," you chided, resting your chin on your palm. 

When the waiter approached to take your orders, Gojo didn't hesitate. "Whiskey, neat. And a Sex on the Beach." he said, winking at you. Before the waiter could walk away, Gojo called out, "Oh, and add one of those little frilly umbrellas to that cocktail, please!" 

"You just wanted to order that so you could say something inappropriate," you retorted, sticking out your tongue playfully. 

Gojo grinned back, leaning in his seat with satisfaction. "So, how's this little dry spell going for you, babe?" And there it was. You’d think after starting to hang out with him more regularly you’d have gotten used to this by now. “I mean, are you at least touching yourself?” 

“Gojo!” you exclaimed as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “Other people can probably hear you!” 

Oh, Sukuna heard. Every word sharpened his focus, his attention fixed on your interaction with Gojo, his ears straining to catch your response amidst the hum of the bar. 

Gojo's gaze flickered towards Sukuna for a brief moment, though you remained oblivious to the silent exchange. "Well? Are you gonna answer my question or am I going to have to pry it out of you?" he pressed, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

"No." Your answer was firm, spoken softly enough that Sukuna had to lean forward slightly to catch it. The truth was, the emotional turmoil of keeping things casual with Sukuna had consumed so much of your energy that you hadn't allowed yourself time to consider much else. 

Gojo leaned back, seemingly satisfied with your response, though his eyes still held a mischievous spark. "Alright, I'll let you off the hook... for now." He glanced back at Sukuna, a silent challenge in his gaze, then turned back to you. "You know, if you ever need to talk—or not talk—I'm right here." 

Your gaze shot up to meet Gojo's, who wore a mischievous grin that you knew all too well. If you had something to throw at him, you would have; but lacking any handy projectiles, you were left to fend with your words. "Don't be an asshole, Gojo. You know I wouldn’t do that—not to Sukuna, and certainly not with you." 

Sukuna let out a sigh of relief. God, he knew Gojo was just purposefully pushing his buttons at this point, but he didn’t know what he would’ve done if you’d taken him up on his inappropriate offer. Probable would’ve dragged Gojo outside by that perfectly well-kept hair on his head.  

Gojo’s grin only broadened at your response, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, I'm just stirring the pot a bit. You know I wouldn't really suggest something like that." He glanced subtly in Sukuna's direction. "It’s all in good fun, right? Just trying to lighten the mood a bit." 

“Yeah, well lighten it some other way than suggesting I fuck you to get over him.” You couldn’t help the slight snap in your voice as the words came out. But you couldn’t help it – you weren’t just frustrated over the whole situation... dammit you were sexually frustrated too.  

You’d had a taste, and now you were like an addict without their fix. 

Gojo beamed at your irritated reaction, either oblivious to the concept of self-preservation or simply reveling in being the instigator. Just as he opened his mouth to continue his playful torment, the bartender arrived with your drinks, placing the cocktail in front of you and the neat whiskey in front of him. 

As soon as the bartender turned away, you switched the drinks. “I’m really trying here, Gojo,” you said abruptly, lifting the glass of whiskey to your lips and allowing the sharp burn to wash away the swirling thoughts. “I could cave at any second – truly. Is that stupid of me?” 

“Yeah, probably,” Gojo replied with disarming honesty, causing you to pout until he playfully ruffled your hair. “But let’s be honest, you were ready to cave the minute he showed up here after your text weeks ago.” 

Ugh. You hated that he was right. “Okay, then does that make me weak?” 

“No.” You exhaled a sigh of relief at his response, only for it to be cut short as he shot you a knowing smirk. “It makes you in love.” 

Heat rushed to your face, coloring it from the tips of your ears to your chin. Flustered, you began to wave your hands defensively. “What? No. We haven’t even said that yet. Are you sure there’s not too much alcohol in that drink? I mean, look at it, it’s—” 

A slender hand clamped over your mouth to cut you off. “Listen, it’s cool. We all can see it in the way you look at each other,” Gojo told you, his voice low and certain. Your muffled hmph vibrated against his palm, but he only shook his head at the sound. “I can only call one thing you’ve done stupid in the time I’ve known you.” 

He removed his hand from your mouth as you scowled at him, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “And what’s that?” you asked. 

“That you haven’t given him another chance yet,” Gojo said simply, his gaze piercing and his voice earnest, cutting through the noise of the bar and hitting right at the heart of your fears and hopes. 

Sukuna's attention was zeroed in on the exchange between you and Gojo. Every word hit him like a physical blow. He sipped his drink quietly, the sharp taste of the alcohol barely registering as he absorbed Gojo's words and your reactions.  

The mention of love made his heart race. Love. The word had weight, carrying with it all the possibilities and dangers of a deeper commitment. Sukuna had considered his feelings for you many times, analyzed them, fought them, and now, hearing them so bluntly mirrored back through Gojo’s teasing, it struck a chord. 

As Gojo’s hand covered your mouth to silence your flustered denials, Sukuna found himself frowning, a protective instinct flaring up within him. He knew Gojo meant no harm, but the physical gesture was enough to stir a discomfort he hadn’t expected to feel. He watched closely, his gaze intense and unwavering as Gojo removed his hand, giving you space to respond. 

While you stood silently, probably weighing your thoughts, Sukuna’s entire body sat taught. He was waiting on the edge of his seat for your response – crossing his fingers, maybe even fucking praying that you’d give him some shred of hope in the next few words.

Otherwise, he might hurl himself out of the glass window he leaned against.  

You let out a sigh, a mix of resignation and determination settling in. "Fine. I’ll give him a call, does that make you happy?" You glanced up to see Gojo's grin widen, his delight clear even without words. 

“You should do it right now,” Gojo suggested nonchalantly, crossing his arms and casually leaning against the bar. Unbeknownst to you, his position was strategically chosen to give him a clear view of Sukuna’s reaction, anticipating the drama that was about to unfold. 

“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered under his breath, his hands diving into his pockets in a frantic search for his phone. His heart hammered against his ribcage—was his ringer on? What if it suddenly blared out loud? “Goddamit.” 

He patted down his pockets in a panic, finally noticing the phone peeking out from under the table. It must have slipped out when he leaned forward earlier, straining to catch every nuance of your voice. As he reached for it, his fingers barely grazed the device before his ringtone shattered the tense quiet of his hiding spot, your picture flashing brightly on the screen for anyone watching to see. 

Sukuna's heart skipped as he snatched up the phone, silencing it with a swift press. He glanced up, his eyes scanning the bar to see if anyone had noticed. Gojo’s knowing smirk told him everything he needed to know—the gig was up. Gojo had planned this, he was sure of it, manipulating the situation with the ease of a conductor leading an orchestra. 

With no other option left, Sukuna took a deep breath and answered your call. 

“Why are you hiding like some kind of stalker?” you demanded, your voice clear through his phone speaker. Sukuna glanced up, startled, and saw you marching towards him with a mix of determination and irritation marking your features. 

He didn't respond until you were standing right next to his table, arms crossed firmly, with Gojo looming behind you wearing a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sukuna muttered defensively, darting a desperate glance at Gojo, silently begging for some semblance of support or at least a quick diversion. 

“Oh, he’s been here the whole time. You didn’t notice?” Gojo chimed in, his tone laced with feigned surprise. “I saw him as soon as we walked in.” 

Your eyes widened with shock, and a slight sense of betrayal tinged your response as you processed the reality that Sukuna had been there all along. You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” 

“No,” Sukuna replied swiftly, a little too quickly, avoiding your gaze as he did.  

“You totally were!” You accused more sharply this time, pointing a finger directly at him. “How much did you hear?” 

“I’m sure he heard every word. He probably paid extra attention when I mentioned you mastur—” Gojo started to say, but you cut him off mid-sentence with a swift smack to the back of his head. 

“You knew too,” you said, glaring at Gojo who was now massaging the spot where you’d hit him. “You should’ve said something.” 

“Yeah, what kind of friend does that?” Sukuna jumped in, seizing the opportunity to deflect some of the focus from himself. However, your icy stare quickly silenced him, and he grimaced under your scrutinizing gaze. 

“Did you two plan this?” you asked, your voice thick with suspicion and a hint of anger. 

“No,” they both responded in unison, almost too quickly.  You didn’t know if you should believe them, but the reality that Gojo and Sukuna would work together to pull this off was just too insane.  

“So…” Gojo began, slowly backing towards the exit, sensing perhaps that his presence was no longer helpful. “I’m gonna go. Let you two catch up. Maybe open the flood gates for that dry—” 

“Stop talking about it!” Your voice clashed with Sukuna’s, both of you shooting daggers at Gojo. He quickly picked up the cue and scurried away from the bar, leaving the field clear for a more private conversation. 

As you plopped down in the seat across from him, you really had no idea what to expect.  

- 

Well, you definitely didn’t expect this.  

How did you get here? You barely exchanged words with Sukuna before he walked you home, claiming you’d had too much to drink – you'd barely sipped your whiskey – and needed company. You had half a mind to refuse, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.  

What was supposed to be goodbye at the door turned into something more.  

Being folded into a mean mating press was the last thing you thought would happen. Yet here you were, weak in the mind and in the body. Every inch of your skin had been worshipped ten times over by now – and Sukuna showed no sign of stopping.  

Balls deep inside of you with his teeth latched onto the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, he wasn’t wasting a second. “Fuck, I missed this.” he grunted against your skin, tongue circling around the bite mark he’d left behind. “Tell me how you wan’ it, princess.” 

Your brain could barely form a sentence with how deep his cock was slamming into you. “I - mmmm – I want...” You trailed off at a particularly mean thrust, moaning out his name instead of actually answering his question. 

“Yeah? Right there?” Sukuna was in awe at the sound of your wet cunt stretching to fit him. You took him so well, and he missed this too much to be considered sane. “Wan’ me t’ fuck you like this?” 

As his large hand splayed across your abdomen, slightly pressing down so your walls tightened around him, his other hand reached up to grab your chin forcefully. “Yes! Yes like that!” You shouted as your eyes screwed shut. “S’ good, Ryo!” 

Sukuna grinned at the nickname – it had been so easy to pull it back out of you, to feel like things were back to normal. He leaned in close while his fingers pushed through your lips, tugging your mouth open for him. “That’s my good girl, y’like it like that?”  

You nodded fervently at him, wide eyes locking with his as he did the dirtiest thing you thought you’ve ever seen. Sukuna’s lips pursed for a moment before you could only watch as he spat into your open mouth. The wad of saliva landed on the flat of your tongue. 

And when you swallowed his spit, Sukuna swore his entire body shuddered with pleasure. “Shit, I knew you were dirty, princess.” He whispered before his lips crashed into yours, the collision almost painful until you felt his tongue inside your mouth, working to taste every bit of you.  

His hips moved at a faster pace after that, thrusting almost inhumanly to bring you to the edge of your orgasm. “Ryo, fuck, ‘m close!” You gasped out while your entire body began to go taut from the buildup. “’m gonna cum for you – hah – don't slow down!” 

“Not a fucking chance, baby.” Sukuna growled before repositioning to destroy you. He leaned back onto his knees as his hands found purchase around your hips to literally pull you towards him to meet his hips. God, his balls were aching with the need to fill you up, but with the way your walls were so tight and warm around him he needed to feel you first. “Go on, cum for me. Now.” 

Your orgasm crashed into you at full force, stars in your eyes while your back arched above the mattress to find some sort of relief to your muscles tightening. Sukuna audibly moaned at the sight – and he was so enamored that he almost missed the best part…

The sound of your pussy just gushing around him, clear fluid spurting from you and onto his abdomen. You would be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good. “Holy shit, princess.” Sukuna groaned as the reality of what just happened caused his dick to give one final thrust before his own release had his body shaking.  

You were still in the peak of your orgasm when you felt him filling you up, warmth spreading through your core as he continued to thrust his cum into you with each curse that left his lips. And when he collapsed on top of you, you were warm all over, still feeling his cock spasming within your cunt... and still cumming. 

“Are you still –” 

“Nngh yes.” Sukuna bit out before actually biting onto your shoulder as he rode that wave as long as possible. He didn’t remove himself, fully intent on plugging you full and not wasting a single drop.  

When he finally rolled onto his side next to you, the sound of labored breathing filled the silence. 

"Are you okay?" Sukuna's voice was soft, his words tinted with concern. After everything that you’d learned he just had to make sure – had to make sure that he didn’t fuck up again. 

"I'm okay," you whispered back, a gentle smile curving your lips. You understood the depth of his question, the genuine worry etched into the furrow of his brows, and it reassured you more than you could express. This wasn’t the same Sukuna you’d heard about, and you had no reason to fear him. 

As you both lay there, the room dimly lit by the moonlight beginning to spill through the window, a comfortable silence settled between you. Sukuna’s hand found yours under the sheets, his fingers intertwining with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.  

The night deepened around you, and your conversation drifted to lighter topics. You talked about everything and nothing – some drama at your work, something stupid that Gojo and Geto had gotten into, and even how much Sukuna missed you.  

Eventually, the talks began to slow as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. Sukuna's voice became a soothing hum, his words blending into the quiet rustle of the sheets as you both shifted closer. His arm slipped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, the feeling of his chest rise and fall becoming your lullaby.  

"Thank you," he murmured into the quiet room, his voice low and filled with a warmth that vibrated softly in the dark. He wasn't entirely sure if you were still awake to hear his words. 

"For what?" came your drowsy reply, a gentle whisper that seemed to float in the still air between you. 

"For trying. For coming back to me," Sukuna said, his voice heavy with tiredness and the relief you brought him. 

He was silent for a moment, then leaned in to kiss the top of your head, a simple action that said all the things he couldn't put into words right now. "You earned it," you whispered back softly, and he swore he caught the slightest smirk on your face. 

As sleep began to pull him under, Sukuna's thoughts were calm and grateful. Lying there with you, he felt a peace he hadn't known in a long time. The journey here certainly hadn't been easy. It took a lot of talking and facing some hard truths about himself. Which usually, he fucking hated. 

But here you were, showing him that people can forgive, and things can get better. That made him want to make sure he never fucked up this second chance. As he drifted off, he made a quiet promise to himself to keep working on this, to keep you happy.

It was his only desire now – to see you smiling at him.  

In the soft, quiet comfort of the room, with your gentle breathing beside him, Sukuna felt hopeful. It was like all the broken pieces were starting to come back together, making something good and new. For the first time in forever, he felt content. 

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[asiantransformations]

Final Part: The Truth can hurt.

—Prologue—

—Part 1—

—Part 2—

Mr. Chen’s smirk deepened as he watched Junhao wrestle with his own longing. The tension was thick in the air, charged with unspoken desire, humiliation, and something darker—acceptance.

He reclined further into his chair, spreading his thick legs, giving JunHao the full display of his superior form. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate movements, knowing full well how mesmerizing his body had become. Each muscle, sculpted and hardened through his efforts—JunHao’s past dedication, but now perfected under Mr. Chen’s reign.

“You spent years training this body,” Mr. Chen continued, rolling his shoulders, letting the immense weight of his own superiority settle over the room. “But you never unlocked its true potential.”

JunHao’s breath hitched again. His fingers twitched against his thighs, itching—aching—to reach out and touch what had once been his.

Mr. Chen noticed.

And yet, there was something… unfinished.

“Tell me, JunHao,” Mr. Chen mused, flexing his bicep just to watch the thick, sculpted muscle peak. “Do you miss it?”

JunHao’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered up, meeting Mr. Chen’s, then immediately dropped back down to the very body he once called his own.

“Miss… what?” JunHao asked, though they both knew the answer.

Mr. Chen smirked. “This,” he said simply, running a hand down his chest, over his hardened abs, relishing the way the grooves of his muscles responded under his touch. “The power. The perfection. The body you spent years building… only for me to take it to new heights.”

JunHao shuddered, his fists clenching against his own thighs.

Mr. Chen leaned forward, his smirk widening. “I’ll give you a chance,” he said smoothly. “A chance to step back into what was once yours. To feel every fiber of strength, every ounce of virility that I’ve cultivated. Maybe then you’ll truly understand how much work I’ve put into my body.”

JunHao’s eyes widened. He should have said no. He should have resisted. But the temptation was too much.

“…You’d let me back into my own body?” he whispered.

Mr. Chen chuckled, tilting his head. “Of course,” he said. “Its my body now, but I want you to know what you lost. To feel what true greatness is. I want you to know how it feels to be me.” He reached out, his fingers gripping JunHao’s chin firmly. ““When you realize you can’t measure up to the man I’ve become and when you fail to handle it… you’ll know why it belongs to me.” Mr. Chen breathed against his lips, his grip tightening, his biceps flexing in raw power.

His voice was final. Undeniable.

And deep down, although JunHao accepted, he knew Mr. Chen was right.

The swap was instant.

Power surged through JunHao’s veins, the sheer weight of his former body crashing onto him like a tidal wave. His muscles screamed with untamed strength, his chest heaving as he inhaled deeply, taking in the overwhelming presence of his returned physique.

He stood up too fast.

The moment his feet planted on the ground, his legs buckled, his balance thrown off by the sheer density of his thighs. His vision blurred from the sudden rush of testosterone. His biceps felt alien, his pecs too heavy, his core too tight. Even his…

A sudden throb between his legs sent a violent shudder up his spine.

JunHao gasped, gripping onto the nearest surface, his head spinning.

It was too much.

This wasn’t the body he had once known. It wasn’t the JunHao that had belonged to him.

It was Mr. Chen’s now.

Every single fiber, every cut of muscle, every inch of it had been reworked, refined, and perfected to serve a different master.

And it wasn’t him.

A low, knowing chuckle echoed from behind him.

JunHao turned—his body sluggish, unresponsive, as if rejecting him—and met his own smug gaze.

Mr. Chen, now in JunHao’s new, lesser body, leaned back against the chair, watching with pure amusement.

“Struggling?” Mr. Chen taunted, stretching out his arms. “Tsk. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You see, JunHao… I made this body mine.”

JunHao’s breath came out in ragged pants, his hands trembling as he tried to steady himself. But the heat—the sheer intensity—was relentless. His own virility overwhelmed him, the constant pulse of need to release that Mr. Chen had cultivated within his flesh rendering him helpless.

Mr. Chen tilted his head. “Go on,” he urged. “Flex. See what real power feels like.”

JunHao hesitated. But he had to. He had to prove he was still worthy.

He clenched his fists and flexed.

—And then he felt it.

A pulse at his crotch. A swelling heat that spread through his core, surging like liquid fire through his veins. His length twitched, a bead of wetness forming at the tip, his peak of energy leaking through. It was uncontrollable—unstoppable.

He looked down, mortified, as a small wet patch seeped through the fabric.

Mr. Chen laughed. Loud, cocky, knowing.

“Oh? You’re already leaking?” he taunted, shaking his head. “You haven’t even done anything yet.”

JunHao clenched his fists, his face burning with a mix of shame and undeniable pleasure.

He instantly crumpled.

His biceps surged, his chest tightened, his abs contracted—and the sheer intensity of it sent a violent jolt straight to his core. His cock throbbed, a sharp, unrelenting ache shooting through his body as his knees buckled. His breath hitched, sweat dripping down his temple as he fought to regain control.

Mr. Chen laughed.

A deep, rich, dominant laugh.

JunHao was drowning in the sheer masculinity of his former body.

Mr. Chen stood, rolling his shoulders, smirking as he stepped forward, pressing a firm hand against JunHao's shoulder.

Mr. Chen knew.

And right now, what was supposed to be his body was begging for release.

Mr. Chen was relentless. His hands explored every ridge of muscle, his grip firm, possessive. He knew exactly where to touch, where to press, where to command the body to respond.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Mr. Chen reached forward and grabbed JunHao’s thick, trembling thigh. His grip was firm, possessive—his fingers digging into the hard-earned muscle that once belonged to JunHao.

Junhao moaned, his body jerking under the touch.

“Oh?” Mr. Chen purred, his other hand trailing up to squeeze JunHao’s massive pec, feeling the firm weight of it beneath his palm. “Sensitive, are we?”

JunHao barely managed to choke out a response. His jaw clenched, his chest heaving, his body on fire.

Mr. Chen leaned in, his breath hot against JunHao’s ear. “You don’t have control over it anymore, do you?” he whispered, fingers tracing over every ridge of muscle, every overcharged nerve ending. “Your own body listens to me now.”

A violent shudder racked through JunHao as another pulse shot through him, a fresh surge of wetness spreading at his crotch. His hands clawed at Mr. Chen’s arms, gripping onto him for stability, his mind blank with raw sensation.

“You feel that?” Mr. Chen whispered, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “This body isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. It only responds to me—my dominance, my discipline, my drive.” He grinned, leaning in closer.

Mr. Chen grinned, loving every second of JunHao’s struggle.

“Don’t hold back,” he taunted, voice smooth, commanding. “Let it happen.”

JunHao’s breath hitched. His entire being was teetering on the edge, the unbearable pressure inside him reaching its breaking point.

And then—

The floodgates burst open.

A choked cry tore from JunHao’s lips as the biggest release of his life crashed over him, his body seizing under the sheer force of it. His abs clenched, his legs trembled, and his cock throbbed violently, unleashing everything he had. JunHao thought that once he had released again in his body, he would feel back at home... like a soft reset.

But it was different. The sensation was too much—his mind white-hot with pleasure, his body locked in pure, uncontrollable bliss.

He could feel it, every rope of release, every pulse, his senses overloaded to the point of devastation.

Mr. Chen’s laughter rumbled low in his throat.

“Look at you,” he murmured, brushing a hand through JunHao’s soaked, trembling form. “Ruined. Completely undone by your own body.”

JunHao collapsed, gasping for air, his limbs too weak to even support him. His vision swam, his muscles shaking, his mind reeling from the sheer intensity of it all.

It wasn’t just a release—it was something deeper, something that reached inside him and rewrote the pleasure itself. Every fiber of his being felt like it was on fire, burning with a new, unfamiliar ecstasy.

And then… the horror set in.

Because no matter how good it felt—no matter how perfect it was—he couldn’t enjoy it.

It wasn’t his. It didn’t belong to him anymore. The pleasure, the power, the control—it all belonged to Mr. Chen. JunHao was just a passenger now, trapped in the very body he once owned, feeling everything but owning nothing. The orgasm he had felt like it was meant for someone else. Someone more cocky, someone more worthy of his body's potential.

Mr. Chen smirked, watching as realization dawned on JunHao’s face, the aftershocks still rolling through his trembling form. “Now you understand,” he murmured. “This isn’t your body anymore.” He leaned in, his breath hot against JunHao’s ear.

“See?” he murmured. “You don’t own this body anymore. It owns you.”

Junhao whimpered, the sound humiliating—degrading.

Mr. Chen leaned in, voice dripping with amusement.

JunHao’s body shuddered. His pride shattered.

And for the first time, he truly knew what it meant to be owned.

“You’re not worthy of it,” he whispered. “And you never will be again.”

And with that—he took it back.

The swap snapped into place.

JunHao was ripped from the overwhelming power, shoved back into his weaker body, gasping as the sheer absence of strength left him hollow. He fell to his knees, panting, shaking, his head spinning.

Mr. Chen, now back in his rightful body, “Damn,” he exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “That was fun.” He glanced down at Junhao, who knelt before him—defeated, wrecked, utterly submissive.

The moment his mind settled into its true vessel, a slow, satisfied exhale escaped his lips. The lingering warmth, the twitching aftermath of pleasure, the residual echoes of JunHao’s devastating release—it was all still there. His muscles pulsed with power, his skin tingling, his core tight with an aftershock of pleasure that made him let out a low, pleased groan.

This was his body.

And it felt incredible.

Mr. Chen flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders, feeling the residual shudders coursing through his sculpted frame. His pecs still twitched, his thighs burned, and down below, his cock still throbbed—not out of need, but out of pure, overwhelming satisfaction.

He grinned. JunHao had done well.

The sensation was different—a release that wasn’t fully his own, yet one he now owned entirely. The echoes of JunHao’s climax belonged to him, his nerves still alight with the pleasure he had stolen back.

Mr. Chen stretched, the flex of his dominant, powerful muscles sending a fresh pulse of testosterone through his veins. His body was radiating heat, still fresh from its most recent eruption.

A chuckle rumbled from his throat as he glanced down at JunHao—now slumped in the weaker body, his expression dazed, his skin flushed, his chest rising and falling in exhausted gasps.

"Pathetic," Mr. Chen muttered, dragging a finger along his rock-hard abs, still glistening from the mess that had just been claimed. “You couldn’t even handle one round in MY body.”.

Mr. Chen smirked, rolling his shoulders before reaching down to remove his sneakers—his sneakers, though they had been thoroughly worked in by JunHao’s sweat and struggle. The moment he slipped them off, a thick, heady musk filled the air—pure testosterone, pure ownership.

He lifted one sneaker to his face, inhaling deeply.The moment the scent hit him, his cock twitched again. Thick, indulgent musk—a mixture of sweat, testosterone, and dominance—clung to the well-worn fabric, a tangible reminder of his endless workouts, his relentless perfection. His cock twitched instantly, his body reacting viscerally to the proof of its own greatness. Every moment that JunHao had taken, every ounce of effort he had put in, all of it had been absorbed into his sneakers, his body, his essence.

His cock—already semi-hard from the lingering echoes of his last eruption—gave an urgent throb, pulsing with a new demand.

His breathing grew heavier as he pressed the sneaker to his face, savoring the potent musk. This was what it meant to own a body—to dominate it, to break it in, to let its very scent mark him as the true master. His cock throbbed, swollen with undeniable arousal, and the moment he ran a hand down his sculpted abs, feeling the sweat still clinging to his perfect skin—

He barely had time to smirk before it happened.

A sudden, uncontrollable convulsion ran through his body, his muscles tightening, his veins surging with liquid fire. His balls ached, still swollen from the first massive release, but they had more to give.

His breath hitched. His grip on the sneakers tightened.

The semen gates burst open once again. Thick ropes of his pent-up dominance shot forth, his entire body trembling with the force of it. His toes curled, his calves flexed, his pecs tensed, and a deep, guttural moan escaped his lips—unfiltered, primal, completely unrestrained.

He couldn’t stop it.

He didn’t want to stop it.

The realization only made him cum harder.

The sheer masculinity of it, the undeniable proof of his superiority, his raw virility—it sent him spiraling into another relentless high.

His chest heaved, his vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the musk still flooding his lungs.

When the last wave finally subsided, he stood there, shaking, drenched in the aftershocks of his own overwhelming potency.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat.

“Two releases… in under ten minutes.” His voice was thick with smug satisfaction as he wiped a streak of his own warm release from his abs. “I really am… too much for even myself.”

His cock throbbed, standing hard and proud, a testament to his unmatched virility.

He grabbed his sneakers again, pressed his nose deep into the soaked fabric, and took a long, indulgent inhale—letting the raw, intoxicating essence of his own manhood flood his senses.

The effect was instant.

A sharp jolt shot down his spine, his muscles flexing involuntarily, his thighs tensing, his balls tightening with that all-too-familiar aching fullness.

“Oh fuck… would you look at that?” he groaned, gripping his pulsing shaft, feeling the veins bulge against his palm.

His body wanted it.

His body demanded it.

And who was he to deny his own greatness?

He spread his stance wider, his thick quads tensing, his calves flexing, his entire physique pulsing with the sheer excess of power coursing through him.

Then, with a deep, guttural growl, he gave in.

The third floodgate burst open—violently, relentlessly, like a dam finally giving way to a tidal wave of raw, unrestrained virility.

Thick, hot ropes of dominance shot out with explosive force, coating his perfected form, marking his superiority with every pulse of release.

His pecs tensed, his biceps flexed, his veins throbbed, his body shook with the sheer magnitude of his own masculinity.

And fuck—he’d never felt more powerful.

He gasped, chest heaving, dripping in the aftermath of his third release in under fifteen minutes.

“FUCK, Three.” He let out a deep, cocky laugh, rubbing his own thick, leaking tip against his streaked abs, letting the evidence of his undeniable virility spread across his godlike body.

“And I’m still not fucking done.”

He took another deep breath, letting the lingering scent of his own perfection fill him.

And the ache in his cock told him—he wasn’t even close to done.

As his climax faded, Mr. Chen exhaled with satisfaction, rolling his neck before looking down at JunHao, who lay covered in three releases worth of his former body's essence.

“Consider that,” Mr. Chen panted, still riding the high, “your final lesson.” He tossed the sneaker onto JunHao’s chest, smirking.

“This body was never yours to begin with.”

Mr. Chen—no, JunHao—stood before the mirror, taking in his godlike form with an undeniable sense of ownership. His massive chest rose and fell steadily, his muscles pumped and primed, glistening under the soft glow of the room’s lighting.

He flexed an arm, watching his bicep peak, veins pushing to the surface like rivers of pure dominance.

This was his body now.

The true JunHao.

The only JunHao.

The moment that weak, the former version stepped out of this body a second time, he left behind everything that made him worthy. His confidence, his hunger, his overwhelming virility—all of it absorbed, enhanced, perfected by the superior mind now in control.

JunHao ran his hands down his hardened abs, feeling the power coursing through him, knowing that every ounce of testosterone, every drop of essence, every intoxicating trait had been claimed, amplified, and made absolute.

He grinned—not just with satisfaction, but with the pure, unshakable knowledge that this body had finally reached its true potential.

And it was his.

“JunHao Chen…” He whispered the name to himself, letting it roll off his tongue like a declaration of superiority.

Yes. This was who he was.

The perfect name for the perfect mind, controlling the perfect body.

There was no one before him.

There would be no one after him.

Only JunHao.

Always.

[stoneybun]

Home Videos w/ Schlatt

had some... thoughts about this post i made and wanted to expand on it as a treat ( Schlatt x fem reader, NSFW and fluff ) MDNI

Fluff!! >> Records whenever you two go on vacation. He's captured you looking out at the horizon while seeing some mountains in Japan, the two of you touring somewhere you were really excited about, down to simple footage of you two waking up and being all lovey in bed together or watching the sunrise. >> Has some clips with him talking about surprises he has for you during the trip, pretty much like a vlog but it'd never see the light of day. This was for him to look back on one day, maybe showing a couple friends if he felt like it. >> Does really goofy shit with it "Hey, angel, y'from around here?" he boasts as he turns the camera to you. "We've been together four years, Johnny." >> Also some clips of the two of you shitfaced either walking around together or in your hotel room. That's comedy gold to him, the way you joke back and forth, doing dumb bits with each other. Definitely steals some jokes from these times to say in videos/streams.

--- NSFW BELOW !!

>> He'd definitely like, pick up the camera for a little while only to put it back down again to relish in how you feel without having to hold the fucking camera up. Nearly drops it on you a few times just from how lost he gets in how good you feel for him. >> Same note though, sometimes he'll just set it on the nightstand or something to capture every moment whether it's loving sex or more primal... >> Flips the display part around when you're giving him head sometimes just to make you see how pathetic and beautiful you look while sucking his cock. "Eyes up here, baby," he taunts with a smug ass grin on his face, you looking up at him through your lashes and seeing your reflection. Your lips around his cock, spit coating his length and your mouth as you were slowly bobbing your head up and down his length. He wants a show? He'll fuckin get one. >> Loses his damn mind as you look straight at him while moving your head up enough to just tease the pretty red tip of his, pressing messy kisses and licks to it before just stuffing him down your throat as far as you can. "Fuuck yeah that's my girl," he groans, you being able to feel him throb in your throat. >> He couldn't wait to watch this back one day while you're at work or out doing something, just like he does with all his tapes... he has his own personal porn collection, why wouldn't he use it? >> Definitely calls you his favorite pornstar, thinking it's fucking hilarious but also arousing at the same time since you only were for him. He loves what that camera brings out of you when it was just him who would be watching back the footage. >> He'd have you hold the camera while he'd fuck you, not even caring what you'd do with it. Record your beautiful face as it twisted in pleasure from him fucking you, the view of him between your thighs as he eats you out, even having caught you recording him above you practically whimpering how good you felt, his face flushed red from the alcohol coursing in his system. >> Definitely has caught some giggly moments during sex, usually when the two of you fucked while high when you weren't completely absorbed in one another.

[whorediaries-09]

you don't what you've got;

pairing- priest!sirius black x virgin!reader warning(s)- dark themes, 18+ content, corruption. a/n- this is probably way too intense than anything i've written on this blog-and that is saying something. also i'm projecting teehee, so this is entirely self indulgent. this might just be my favorite thing that i've written.

the diner

sirius thinks you're a demon. you have to be. he thinks you're corrupting his church. you were walking sin. a sin that corrupted him. a sin that suffocates him.

no, you weren't a demon. no. you were divinity. and he was your devout. you were so pure. so innocent. you were something beyond human. you were an angel.

he was tempted to slash your wings. he wanted you to fall. he wanted you to be his. to

you came in the form of a church-goer. shy 'hellos and goodbyes' followed the journey of his lustful sin. he always had had problems with self-control. he was aware of his true nature, that he wasn't close to purity as much as he should be.

your temptation worked on him. but he was strong. he had to be. no matter how much your temptation may allure him, he had to stay strong. stay on his ground. he had to keep himself focused. he couldn't submit to seduction. even if he thought you were tailored so perfectly for him. just for him.

well, he lied. to himself. and to the holy spirits he prayed to.

he couldn't help himself. not when you started coming up to him more and more. a part of him wondered if you really were an angel. if you really were as innocent as you appeared to be. perhaps you could hear his thoughts. perhaps you knew what he did behind close doors. perhaps you could hear him whispering to himself, his mind an array of unholy thoughts and depictions of your body.

the apologies to god never stopped. he prayed to god, to deject you from his life. but now, it was all fruitless. he had always known it would be fruitless.

because it wasn't god he worshiped anymore. it was you. it always had been you. you, his fallen angel, sprawled across his sacerdotal chambers. in his bed.

father black whimpers between your thighs. your nectar ambrosia, sweet and bitter across the spasming muscle of his tongue. he closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of how good he made you feel. of how good he devoured you. of how good he pleased you.

your fingers intertwine in his hair, tugging him closer. he opens his eyes. he sees you. for the first time. no, weren't a demon. no, you were a gift from god, sent from the very corners of heaven. god had sent you to him. with the tears in your lashes, the arch of your back, the swell of your kiss bitten lips. in this moment, you were his angel. an angel that god had crafted out for him. god had slashed your pure white wings, and now you lay, your back bloody with the loss of your innocence.

god had sent him an angel. his angel.

'are you feeling good, my child?' he pleads, voice a vibrato of ecstasy. 'am i doing good?' he slipped his middle finger in your welcoming heat. he pressed a kiss on your hip, burying his face between your thighs again, lips wrapping around your clit.

thank you, lord.

'yes, father. you're doing so good. please don't stop,' you manage to breathe out as he slowly pumps his finger. his heart swells at your reassurance. he hadn't done this since high-school. but his memories had retained. he'd thought about doing this to you more times than he'd like to admit.

he shuddered at the raw plea in your voice. it was music to his ears. a symphony of sin vibrating in his very core. he feels himself strain against the stark black robes.

'shh, i've got you, angel,' he muses, tongue darting out, sharply, slowly, licking against your slit. if he was to die for you, if he was to suffer his deathless death, he'd suffer it with you. he'd spend his entire life being devoted to his little angel, worshiping, like a dog at the shrine of his sins and lies.

your body undulates under his touch. he was drunk, on the taste of your essence, so sweet, so pure. he slowly worked the second finger in your hole, followed by a third. scissoring you open for him. tongue flicking over your swollen clit, sucking it between his lips, he says,

'i won't stop, my little angel. not until you've found release. not until you've cherished the deathless death that you've presented me with.'

he increases his pace, pumping in and out with rhythmed ease. your breathe hitches, stomach tingling with the beauty of shame, with the lust of desire, and the salvation that threatens to consume you. your muscles clench around his fingers.

'let go my angel,' he soothes, slowly increasing his efforts. your body was as taut as a bow-string, ready to snap at any moment. 'that's it, beauty. let me taste your salvation,' he encourages. his tongue lashes wilder, fingers pump faster. for this is what he'd wanted. what he'd dreamed of in long, dark nights. to have you, his fallen angel writhe underneath him. your pleasure, his prayer.

'father, my stomach feels tingly,' you say, breathless, body aching with impending release. your belly flutters, clenched as your climax approached. the sensation sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated arousal through him, his cock so painfully tight against his robes.

'that's how sin feels like, my beauty, my angel,' he reassures. his voice is low, almost like a growl, desire punctuated in every syllable that slips from his tongue.

'it'll tingle you. burn you. consume you. till that's the only thing that you know, till that's the only feeling you're drowning in.'

a fourth finger slipped inside your impossibly tight, hot, sopping cunt, stretching you wider, filling you better. his thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, stimulation relentless. your walls fluttered beautifully around his fingers, rippled and quaked. your body tensed, ready to snap any moment.

'don't fight it, my child,' he urged. it was more of a threat than an advice. 'embrace it. embrace the sin. let it take you, devour you, ruin you for anything but ungodly lust. cum for me, my beauty, my angel.'

with his words, his fingers curled just right, stroking that sweet spongy spot within you. at the same time, his lips wrapped around your sensitive, swollen clit. he sucked hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly against the bud.

and then, with a ragged scream of pure ecstasy, you came. your cunt clamping around his fingers like a warm, velvety vice, fluttering and rippling, your body quaking with the intensity of it all. your body bowed off the bed, bad arched like a cat as you winced, your moans borderline pornographic. wave after wave of rapture crashed over you.

father black works you through it, fingers pumping, tongue laving, drawing out your climax until you collapsed back onto the mattress, boneless and spent. he resurfaces from between your thighs, his chin and lips glistening with your essence. he crawled up your body, his piercing gaze never leaving yours.

he could fell his heart beat in his ears, at your sight. wrecked, yet so radiant. cheeks flushed, eyes glazed in post-orgasmic haze. slowly, reverently, he leans closer, raven hair tickling your cheeks. he captures your lips in a hot, searing kiss. he pours all his pent up desire into it.

'shh, my angel,' he says, trailing hot open mouthed kisses across your jaw, 'i've got you. i've got you so good. i've got you so perfectly,' you take in a deep breathe, trying to calm down your racing heart. in this moment, as the moonlight strokes his sharp, porcelain features, you're utterly his. his angel.

his fallen angel.

****************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

A/N- I WILL WRITE A PART TWO IF THIS DOES WELL OR IF I FEEL HORNY IN GENERAL. I NEED SOME THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS.

[snexy-the-snail]

Make another Hermes fic and my soul belongs to you. My Boi is such a playful yet gentle pred I luv him ✨️✨️✨️

Ask and you shall receive <3 and saaaame Just the right amount of playfulness and making sure that hes not overwhelming the kiddos-))

Percy rolls his shoulders as he steps out of his school, feeling utterly exhausted. Trying to decipher words when spinning off the pages would give anyone a headache. He groans and runs his face, trying to coax away the pressure of a forming headache. He draws a breath in, relishing the freshness of the surrounding air.

That was something he found himself eternally grateful for since his little trip down below. There wasn't any burning with each breath, and the water didn't burn and curl in his gut, screaming about how wrong it was. He must have gotten caught in his thoughts, considering he rammed into someone. He winces, catching himself before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." He mumbles out an apology.

Great, now he was going to get screamed at about how disrespectful he was. Instead, a hand ran through his hair, tousling it along the way. His eyes snap up, meeting a familiar face.

"Hermes?"

"Are you that surprised, little cousin?" the god muses, his eyes scanning over him. Maybe for injuries? That was becoming an odd habit for any of the gods who have checked up on him now. Usually, he was fine, but at times, there were little scratches or bumps.

"Well, yeah, I'm surprised; it's school hours." Percy points out, taking a step back and crossing his arms. He wasn't sure what this was about and if he liked it. Usually, their meetings happened on the shore or in his cabin. Seeing Hermes just sorta..here was odd. Yet his nerves soothed when the god reached out and took hold of his arm, tugging him closer to his body. Unlike most gods, Hermes was warm, like a summer breeze. It wasn't bad, just different than the chill his dad had. The corners of Hermes' lips arch upwards, his eyes still hidden by sunglasses. Ugh. Gods had the worst fashion sense, he swore.

"Pish posh, since when do I care about your weird mortal rituals?" He teases, his grip not once wavering on Percy's arm. It should make him feel trapped, it really should, but all it did was send little waves of warmth through him. He rolls his eyes, partly leaning into the touch, hiding a smile with a scoff, turning his head.

"Obviously not a lot, considering you just show up randomly." shrugging off the god's hand. He knew it was only because it was allowed and not because he was strong enough to shed the grip."Still, why are you here? Quest or something." He prompts, eyeing the god cuatiously.

"No, no, nothing of the sort," Hermes says, neatly falling into pace when Percy starts to walk again. It was something he had noticed; no matter what pace it was, Hermes seemed to fall into place almost naturally. Part of his domain probably.

"Mhm, sure. Aren't you busy delivering stuff anyway? Why hang out with just a demigod?" he teases. He expected a chuckle or a nudge, not for Hermes to grab onto his arm again, a frown gracing the god's face. Seeing any of the gods actually serious was like hearing your full name wrong. Upsetting. He swallows nervously, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk rather than seeing the random bits of trash and bugs than the lens of the god's sunglasses.

"You're not just a demigod."

"Gathered that."

"Don't say things like that about yourself." Hermes continues, lightly taping his head, a false smile on the god's face now. "Sure got it," Percy mumbles. The grip released from his arm again, lingering only slightly before the god stepped closer. "I mean that Peresus Jackson. You are not just a demigod; you are a child."

Great, full name and a serious conversation. Percy felt like he was 5 years old again, getting caught talking to the pet store goldfish again, only worse. He shoves his hands into his pocket, trying to keep himself from giving Hermes any more ammunition to keep being serious.

"Heard you loud and clear, I'm just gonna keep going." He says, clearing his throat, hoping that this would finally drop the conversation.

Stupid sunglasses obstructed the god's eyes, so he couldn't tell precisely what Hermes was thinking; so great. He started walking regardless, relieved when Hermes followed suit again, though stuck closer, this time practically shoulder to shoulder with him. "You don't need to walk me. I'm fine." He says that the god didn't disappear right away.

Great.

"Let's just say I'm delivering a package, hmm?" the phrase shouldn't have sounded so..comforting. When was the last time he had someone walk him home? He draws his shoulders in, shifting the weight of his backpack. It was okay; he didn't need to be walked home, and he was capable of protecting himself. It was just..sorta nice he found.

"You're really corny. I hope you know that," Percy grumbles, rolling his eyes. He had a reputation to keep up well, he wasn't sure what was left of it at this point. He sighs slightly, hiding a smile as they continue to walk toward his apartment.

The walk there was quiet, Hermes falling into step with him, their footsteps blending together at times, others the god simply just floating. It was nice doing something so mundane with a god, just a simple walk. He lets a slight hum as he knocks on the door, the bright blue improving his mood already. He had a key, but being able to see his mother's face when she opened the door was everything. Sally was older, but the way she smiled always made her seem younger, at least to Percy. He smiles, ducking into the offered hug.

"Hey, Mom," he murmurs, taking in the warm scent of candy and now books. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermes straightening up and..sniffing the air?

"Hey yourself, sweetheart…and?" She turns her gaze to Hermes, staring at him with a critical eye before continuing. "Lord Hermes?"

"Please, Hermes is fine, my dear."

"Ugh, don't she have Paul? He's great, thank you." Percy says, rolling his eyes as he steps inside the apartment, relaxing at the warmth and safety that immediately floods his senses. Hermes follows, which he doesn't fully enjoy, but hey, it wasn't horrible…Yet.

"Relax, it's called manners, something you lack." Hermes teases, the god stepping into the apartment like he had been here thousands of times, which Percy very much didn't appreciate.

"I've been so kind too, even walked you home squirt." The teasing continued, Sally even glancing at him expectantly. Right. Being polite was something his mom valued, and unfortunately, he couldn't tell the god exactly what he wanted.

"Oh, thank you, great and powerful Lord Hermes, for walking me three blocks to my humble apartment." The sarcasm slipped out naturally, Sally not looking impressed while a smile cracked across the god's face.

A musical-sounding laugh poured from Hermes, a hand settling on his shoulder again. The weight was warm, as always, and made a sense of satisfaction curl in his gut. "Well, my darling little whirlpool, it was my pleasure. Someone must make sure you get home for a nap, hmm?"

Ah.

The truth finally came out. Judging by that glint in Hermes's eyes, he would not be getting out of this either. His mom had busied herself in the kitchen again, occasionally glancing over to them. He knew she wouldn't step in unless necessary, while she couldn't exactly fight a god (didn't stop her from whacking dad with a hot pan), she would mercilessly chew them out. He shakes his head, letting her know he'd be fine. Well, not emotionally; it was still ungodly gross.

"Ugh, fine, hey mom, I might not be in my room. I'll be fine, though." He says, giving her a small wave. He wasn't sure he had the strength to explain the whole being eaten alive thing right now. He didn't even know if his dad had already covered that with her anyway. "You're sure?" Sally responds though he could see her relaxing when he nods in confirmation.

Hermes tilts his head but follows when Percy starts to his room. This felt so..wrong, weird almost. God, stuff didn't exactly come home with him, so this..was interesting. He takes a small breath in, closing the door behind him. The god moved around his room, looking over the various items on the wall. Some skate posters and books were strewn on the bed, and everyday things were out. He watches as the other moves to his bed, sitting down on the mattress. After a moment, Percy moves to his CD player, popping in a disc. The last thing he wanted was for his mom to walk in on this whole thing happening. He kicks his shoes off, dumping his bad shortly after.

"You're serious about it, aren't you?" He grumbles, rubbing the shoulder where his bag had rested. Normal wasn't ever going to be possible, though he already knew that. Hermes stretches out on his bed, before patting beside him.

Percy sat without complaint, letting a breath out as Hermes ran a hand through his hair. "Very. I haven't exactly been keeping track of who's on nap duty now that you're not at camp." the god points out, the dizzy sensation blanketing over his senses. He lets a breath out, squeezing his eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. The weight of the hand followed with ease, which made sense; he had a feeling Hermes had plenty of practice with this.

"You know I won't combust if I miss a few nights."

"Mm, that's not what Uncle P said. There's a reason we have rotations now." Hermes' voice rumbled now, the underlining of his divine voice much easier to hear now. It was weird how that happened. The smaller or closer you were to a god, the easier it was to listen to the divineness. He cracks an eye open as the god's hand encircles him, fingers longer than him, delicately supporting him as he is lifted up.

"Could you just give me a stuffed animal like Annabeth? No gross snack times needed." He supplies helpfully. The corners of the god's lips quirked upwards. Fond but tired.

"I doubt you'd even take the time to lay down for it to work."

Touche.

To be fair, Percy wasn't sure he would willingly take naps. If he wasn't tried, he wasn't going to lie down. "I don't actually need naps, it's just nighttime sleeping." he defends, pulling his legs more onto Hermes' palm as he's lifted up towards his mouth.

"Hmm, I don't think naps would be too harmful." the god murmurs, the warmth from his open mouth rolling over him like a summer breeze.

"Yeah, not getting into the self-care talk; Aphrodite has very much already given me the chew-out about that," Percy grumbles, cringing when the god's tone snakes out over his teeth. His feet sink into the plush muscle as the hand he's resting on tilts. The progression of sliding in was almost natural now, a curling of excitement settling in his chest. He wasn't sure when that started, but he hated it. A chuckle resounds around him, the vibrations running through him like being on a ship plowing through waves.

"Sure laugh it up. It's like a 5-hour conversation that comes with face masks and like meditation that actually works, but I'm not telling her that." He huffs, the support from the hand weenign as he slides between the teeth of the god. His scenery changes from his ceiling to the roof of the god's mouth.

The subtle glow keeps it from being pitch black as a soft clack seals him inside. It was insane how he had gotten so used to this. Any mortal would be freaking out. Then again, he had to the first few times. Still, the whole behind-the-scenes thing freaked him out. Gods didn't have to look human or even have stomach-like organs; they could be put in the box, literally. Once, he had even just fallen through Apollo when the god forgot he had him that day. It had…been experience falling through the god and just staring up at a just as surprised and apologetic face.

Still.. he let the moment play out, mindlessly letting the god's tongue push him around, the salvia soaking into his clothes. This part was always the grossest; they wanted to be covered in saliva, and half the time, he couldn't get his powers to work with it, so the slick, goopy feeling clung to his skin like wet newspaper did to literally anything underwater.

It wasn't long before the familiar dip in his stomach forward as he was tilted backward. As always, Hermes didn't swallow right away, which was expected, but part of him wanted to see how far he could push it. He didn't answer, didn't give his usual cue, just sorta laid there. Gravity really should have all right pushed him down into the pulsing throat, but nothing happened.

Realistically, with all the saliva gooped up around him, he should have slipped down, or the god should have swallowed already, but any excess saliva just sort of disappeared. It felt almost like he was headed to the tongue as well, like he had been a wet paper towel thrown on the wall. Huh. Weird.

It was still nice to know that he held a tiny bit of power, even if it was because Hermes was allowing it. The gesture was nice. "I'm fine; send me down." He says. It didn't happen instantly, even after that; the first swallow only drew him up to his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. The muscles were tight but never too constricting. There was still time to 'back out,' but after a moment, another 'glk' rolled over him, slipping down deep into the god's core. The heart never sounded like it should, either non-existent or- like right now- beating rapidly like a hummingbird. He rolled his eyes, letting the muscles tug him down further until a tight pressure rolled over his feet, and with a wet squelch, he finally landed in the organ. Automatically, it tensed around him, holding him in place. It was like being wrapped up in a ghost net but oddly comfortable.

"All snug, my dear little cousin?" Hermes' divine voice always gave his tone a sing-son-like effect, not as much as Apollo's but like- in a way, it made him sound light and air.

"How can I not be? I'm like an army blanket wrapped in here." Percy shoots back with a slight grin. A stomach wall presses against him. No doubt the god is just checking in on him from the outside.

"It's to keep you from moving around when I'm doing my job." Hermes hums, the space loosening up. "Woah, hey- Just because it's soft, but that doesn't mean I want to bounce around like a ping-pong ball." He yelps, bracing himself. Instead of rapid movement, he got laughter that lightly jostled him around, sliding around in the pit of the organ.

"You're a jerk you know that?" He grumbles, crossing his arms. The muscle tensed around him again, holding him in place firmly.

"I'm still your favorite."

"How do you know? Maybe it's Apollo."

A snort sounds around him, and he god moves from his sitting position, judging by the odd folding movement inside. "With how many times he's dropped you? Doubt it." He could barely feel the god's hand pressing against him, cupping around him.

"Yeah. I guess I should be thankful you don't do that, right? Plummeting to my death sounds like a lame way to die." He muses, none to be surprised when an unhappy whine drawls from the god. Most immortals (who liked him) normally got weird about his death even though it was most assuredly coming. Probably sooner than anyone wanted to admit.

He moved on quickly, not exactly wanting to have another scolding talk about death. "Don't you have a job to do?" He says, digging his elbow into the muscle, not surprised to hear a heavy sigh sounding out above him.

"I suppose I do. You take that nap."

"Course."

[lovelyjuju]

nico is the type to grip your thighs and hold them tightly if you squirm while he’s eating you out.

juju is the type to hold your hand and run his fingers over it and gently coax you back to him

jo is the type to hold you down by the waist so you don’t have the opportunity to move

that is all:)

this ask actually changed my brain chemistry

mature content under cut, minors dni!

nicholas strikes me as someone who really relishes being in control. it would boost his ego if you're squirming under him, but if your legs close around his head too tightly, he would not have it. like, let the man do his JOB! he'd grab your thighs tightly and hold them apart while only trying harder to make you feel good, be it punishment or simply cause he knows the effect he has on you😭

juju is a big switch to me UGH but i still think he's remaining gentle in any way (unless he's very pent up). would absolutely hold and talk you through your high and leave soft kisses along your jaw, neck and shoulders to get you back after😖 i also feel like he'd praise you so much? (especially when you're riding him) tenderly encouraging you "just a little longer, you can do that, right?" or telling you how "you're doing so well"☹️

jo... 😖 jo is such a full-of-love-and-adoration type of lover (snail and i just had a whole ass ramble about that yesterday). while i feel like he would love seeing how good he can make you feel, he'd probably hold you down tightly just so he can admire you properly?? i can't explain but i think he'd also just need to hold onto any part of your body tightly, be it your waist, your wrists, having your fingers intertwined with his or his hands on the small of your back whenever you're on top☹️ besides that, i think that the fact he seems very shy and quiet doesn't change that he likes being in control! (supporting switch jo agenda forever)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Devil in disguise p.2

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Charles one-shot, here's part 1

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist. :)

Charles POV:

The morning light streamed through the curtains, pulling me from sleep. My hand instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. The warmth still lingered on the sheets, a ghost of your presence, but you were already gone.

Rubbing my face, I sat up and stretched, my muscles aching from last night. I ran a hand through my hair and glanced around the room, only to stop when I saw the message scrawled across my bathroom mirror in red lipstick:

Had to leave. XOXO.

And just below it, the imprint of your lips.

I groaned, shaking my head with a small smirk. You always had a way of making sure I never forgot about you, even when you weren’t there.

Dragging myself out of bed, I stepped into the shower, hoping the water would clear my mind, but it only made things worse. Flashes of last night played in my head—the way your fingers traced my skin, the way you whispered my name like a secret only we shared. I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus on anything else.

By the time I finished getting ready, I felt a little more composed. I had plans to play paddle with Max and some of the guys, which was exactly what I needed to get my mind off you.

Or so I thought.

When I arrived, I spotted Max and Lando chatting near the courts.

"Paul coming?" I asked, grabbing my paddle.

Max shook his head. "No, he’s feeling ill, so I called for replacements."

I frowned, adjusting the grip on my paddle. "Who?"

Then I saw you.

You stepped onto the court dressed in an all-white outfit, looking like a picture of innocence. But I knew better.

Our eyes met, and you smirked, mouthing, Missed me?

My jaw clenched.

I was in trouble.

Your POV:

I ended up playing a few rounds as Max’s teammate, relishing the way Charles struggled to keep his focus. Every so often, I’d send him a smirk or a playful glance, pushing his patience to its limit.

After the game, we all agreed to grab lunch together. Once I changed into something more casual, I stepped out of the dressing room to find Max and Lando waiting.

"Where’s Charles?" I asked, adjusting my hair.

"Still getting ready," Lando replied. "Takes forever."

I sighed. "Go ahead to the restaurant, I left my sunglasses in the changing room. I’ll catch up."

Max nodded, not thinking much of it, and they left.

As soon as they were out of sight, I slipped into the men’s changing room. Charles was alone, fixing his shirt in the mirror. He turned when he heard me, his expression immediately tensing.

"You can’t be in here," he said, voice low but firm.

I smirked, stepping closer. "Why not?"

He took a step back. "Because Max—"

I silenced him with a kiss, pressing my body against his, my hands sliding up his chest before curling around the back of his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath, caught between resistance and desire.

I deepened the kiss, my tongue teasing his as I felt his grip tighten on my waist, pulling me even closer. His fingers dug into my hips, a quiet groan escaping him as he finally gave in. I smiled against his lips, feeling the heat between us build with every second.

His hands roamed up my back, pressing me flush against him, and I could feel his heartbeat hammering as wildly as mine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, tilting his head slightly to kiss him even deeper, making him shudder under my touch.

"This is a terrible idea," he muttered against my lips, though his hands betrayed his words, holding me like he never wanted to let go.

"Then stop me," I teased, nipping at his bottom lip.

But he didn’t.

Just as things were getting heated, the door swung open.

"I left my watch—" Max’s voice froze mid-sentence.

Charles and I sprang apart as if burned. But it was too late. Max had seen everything.

And from the look on his face, we were both dead.

@scriptedinkbyxim, @ladyoflynx

[sensitivepluto]

It Just Can't Be

Short & Sweet - Day 15: Forbidden Love

Tomura Shigaraki x Gn! Reader // ANGST / no comfort

[TW]: Heavy angst, reader death, not proofread, bad writing imo

This is @thewritingstar's prompt list - here's a link to the post

Tomura's feet felt heavy as he made it back to the bar. His hands shook and his eyes red with an unknown expression glossing over them. He'd just come from a meeting with his Master. A meeting he was not expecting to have. A meeting that shook him to his core.

"Tomura." All for One had said. "You've gotten quite close to that colleague of yours, haven't you?" It was phrased as a question, but Tomura knew it was more of an observation. He chose to stay quiet.

"In order to become powerful, Tomura, you have to keep negative feelings inside of you. You know this, yes?" All for One didn't even face him. Tomura had no clue what his master was planning.

"I have been. Just as you said." It was a simple answer, but it was lost on All for One. He knew better.

"You're letting these newfound feelings of yours to muddle your judgement. Choosing for them instead of for you and your cause." The words swam in Tomura's head for a moment. It was true your presence had brought a new light into his life. He found himself weakened and intoxicated in your whole being.

"What are you asking of me, Master?" Tomura mumbled out. He thought he knew what All for One would ask of him. Don't speak with them anymore. Kick them from the LOV. Anything except-

"You need to kill them."

Said so simply it was as if his master was telling him to take out the trash. Kill you. He had to kill you?

"Master? I don't-"

"You've become susceptible to thoughts that stray you from your path. Killing them will straighten your mind. It all plays a part in the plan. They are just an unfortunate bump." Tomura could barely hear the words his master spoke, but he knew he was right.

You'd comforted him. You'd loved him. You'd poisoned him with a light he was never supposed to see. Tomura left that meeting with a heavy, angry heart. You were the one thing that brought any good to him. However, he trusted his master's words and knew what he needed to do.

He walked through the bar, not even glancing at Kurogiri. Up the stairs and to the left. Three doors down. You. Tomura stood in front of your door for what felt like an agonizingly long time. Could he go through with this. What if he let you run. Master wouldn't be happy. He's right after all. You are poison.

Three knocks on your door. And an innocent "Coming!" shouted from within. Tomura's heart sunk deeper into his chest. Maybe he was hoping you were already gone. But here you were, opening the door to meet him with that smile he...

"Tomura?" You looked up at him, a concerned expression on your face. "What is it? Are you okay?" You beckoned him in and tried to get him to sit, but he stood in your room with the same unreadable expression.

"I'm...sorry (Y/N)." Tomura rasped out, meeting your eyes with his crimson ones. You shook your head in question.

"What's going on?" You couldn't lie you were a bit panicked. He'd never acted like this toward you before. He sighed, letting his face soften a little before pulling you into an embrace. His arms held you tight and he relished how you melted into his arms.

"I love you, 'Mura." You mumbled into his chest, having no clue what was going on. You thought maybe he just needed a hug. Tomura's hands shook and tears burned in the back of his eyes, never actually coming through.

"I love you." He whispered out darkly, pausing before he took his shaking, ungloved hand and placing it to the back of your skull. Tomura heard your soft gasp when he pulled you in, impossibly close. As your body started to crumble he collapsed to his knees with what was left of you.

By the time he made it to the ground you were gone. Nothing but ash surrounding him. He breathed heavily, taking in the task he'd completed. His chest boiled with anguish. Anger. A newfound hatred filling his heart. Just as All for One had predicted.

Without you holding him back, he was prepared to destroy the world in your honor. Burn everything to the ground including himself. \

Masterlist

A/N: I forgot about yesterday's prompt due to sleep deprivation so now I'm behind a day sooorry.