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

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 ☞ ♥•♥•♥•

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader | Viltrumite!Mark x f!Reader | Sinister!Mark x f!Reader | No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x f!Reader | Omni!Mark x f!Reader | Shiesty!Mark x f!Reader | Mohawk!Mark x f!Reader

Warnings: Umm there’s a mention of Lensless making his dick jump LMAO but that’s it

Tags: Fluff, comedy, romance, just cute silliness – you get the vibe

Word Count: uhhh the whole thing’s 3,236 but each part for all the variants is between 350-650

Synopsis: It’s so nice to have a superhuman boyfriend who relishes in the idea of you being so weak and helpless, he does EVERYTHING for you. Except, also, sometimes it’s kind of annoying and you just want to do things on your own. So when he’s gone on a mission that’s supposed to last a few days? You plan to take FULL advantage. Only, he comes back sooner than expected…

a/n: man, sorry i’ve been dropping the ball on posting lately. i wasn’t lying when i said losing all my old shit really killed my motivation. BUT i’ve been going dumb reading this comic and bruhhh i’m SHOOK by some of the differences – i digress. i feel myself slowly getting back to my usual grind so pls hang in there with me lovies!!!!

also, Shiesty is DEFINITELY my fav from this series lmaoo

The Set Up...

The thing about being home alone was that it gave you the rare chance to get things done.

No overprotective Viltrumite boyfriend hovering the moment you touched anything over ten pounds. No “babe, let me do it” every time you reached for the step stool. Just peace, music, and the triumphant satisfaction of moving the bookshelf to the wall it should’ve been on this entire time.

You’d nearly gotten it there, too—angled just right, towel under the bottom, scooting it across the floor one slow, squeaky inch at a time.

Main!Mark

You were mid-push, maneuvering the big bookshelf across the floor with a towel under it for glide, when you heard the familiar whoosh of a landing behind you.

“Hey, I’m—whoa.”

You turned around, sheepish but proud. “Hi!”

Mark stood there, mask off, still in his suit, eyes flicking between you and the halfway-moved bookshelf. “Were you… moving that by yourself?”

“Technically yes. But, like, strategically. No lifting. Full physics. Minimum chaos.”

He blinked. “That’s… kind of impressive.”

You beamed. “Thanks!”

He nodded slowly, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah, no—super cool. Really cool. Totally capable. Independent. You got this.”

You tilted your head. “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah. I’m good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Mark.”

He scuffed his foot across the floor, eyes cast down. “It’s just… you didn’t wait for me.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to help me push furniture around after flying halfway around the world.”

“Still,” he muttered, glancing at the bookshelf. “It’s kind of my thing, y’know? Being helpful. Picking up stuff. Making your life easier. Super strength is kind of… my niche.”

Your chest ached a little. He wasn’t mad—just quietly, adorably bummed. Like a golden retriever watching someone else throw the ball.

So, naturally, you took two steps back, turned just slightly, and just happened to stub your toe on the side of the coffee table.

Loudly.

“OW—oh my god, ow, okay nope, I’m dying,” you yelped, grabbing your foot and hopping in place.

Mark was instantly at your side, arms out. “Wait, what happened?! Are you okay?!”

“Stubbed my toe,” you whimpered. “On the corner. I think it—ohhh nooo it’s broken.”

He crouched in front of you like a concerned EMT. “Which foot?! Can you walk? Want me to carry you to the couch??”

You blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Would you?”

He was already scooping you up, like a knight cradling a wounded princess. “Of course. I’ve got you.”

You let your head fall dramatically against his shoulder, hiding your grin. “My hero.”

He smiled. A real one this time. “You can move bookshelves, sure. But I’m still the toe-stubbing emergency response team.”

You kissed his cheek. “See? Still irreplaceable.”

A pause.

“…You faked that, didn’t you.”

“No comment.”

Viltrumite!Mark

“…Sweetheart?”

You froze.

“Are you… are you moving that? Alone?”

You turned to see Mark standing in the doorway, uniform still on, brow furrowed in a mix of horror and disbelief, like he’d just caught a toddler wielding a chainsaw.

You opened your mouth to explain—but something in his expression gave you pause.

So instead, you took a slow, shaky breath… and rested the back of your hand against your forehead.

“Ohh…” you sighed. “You’re right. That was… so reckless of me.”

He was at your side in a blink.

“[Y/N],” he murmured, already cradling your face in his hands, inspecting you like you might crumble. “You should’ve waited for me. What if you got hurt? That shelf is solid wood.”

“I just… I didn’t want to bother you,” you said softly, leaning into the moment. “But I feel so faint now…”

He gently brushed your hair from your face, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You shouldn’t be lifting a finger. Not when I’m here. Let me take care of you.”

You almost felt bad.

…Almost.

Mark pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go sit down. I’ll finish this.”

You gave him your best helpless nod, then flopped dramatically onto the couch as he lifted the bookshelf with one hand and carried it across the room like it was empty.

“Okay,” he said. “Where do you want it?”

You sat up, pointing. “Against that wall, just—yeah, right there. No, wait—actually a little to the left.”

He adjusted.

“Hmm. No, sorry, more to the right.”

Another adjustment.

“Okay, now turn it a bit. Clockwise. No, my clockwise. Yeah, okay—wait, back a bit.”

He tilted his head. “Back? Or back back?”

You squinted. “Like… scooch it. A half scooch.”

He sighed (very soft, very loving), and scooched.

You stared.

“…Okay, I think it’s—wait. Nope. Now it’s too far.”

Mark blinked. “Sweetheart...”

You gave a long-suffering sigh and dropped your head into your hands. “This is why I just wanted to do it myself.”

He chuckled—low and warm—then gently tapped your knee. “And miss out on being treated like royalty? Why deprive yourself of such a treat?”

You smiled softly "Very good point..." Then you paused, glanced at the shelf and looked up at him again. “If I’m royalty, does that mean I can tell you to move it back to where it was?”

His face went stony for a moment, but then was already turning. “Only for you...”

You smiled. “I love you so much.”

Mark was ready to move planets that point.

Sinister!Mark

You were halfway through dragging the bookshelf across the floor when your body stilled.

The hair on the back of your neck rose. The air shifted. Then you heard his voice. Smooth. Amused.

“…Interesting choice of project.”

Your blood froze. No. There's no way he's already back, is he?

You turned your head slowly, painfully, like a horror movie character about to meet their doom.

There he was. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes glowing faintly red, with the kind of cold smirk that said “so this is how you betray me.”

Without even thinking – no hesitation, zero shame – you let out a gasp, dramatically tripping over the edge of the towel you’d been using to slide the shelf on and falling down in what felt like slow motion.

The entire bookshelf tipped sideways with you, crashing to the floor with a thunderous BOOM.

Books everywhere. You sprawled in the wreckage like a tragic Victorian heroine struck down by an airborne piano.

“OHHH NOOOO!” you wailed, arm flung across your face. “Why did I think I could do this alone?! I was so foolish! I was so fragile!”

Mark was in front of you before the dust even settled, crouched low, eyes narrowed as he looked over the scene. Not at the bookshelf. Not at the mess.

At you.

You peeked between your fingers. “Is it bad? Am I concussed? Paralyzed?”

He tilted his head. “You’re not hurt.”

“I’m emotionally hurt.”

“You don’t have a scratch on you.”

You whimpered. “But what if I had? I—I thought I was strong enough, but I’m just a weak little thing, aren’t I?”

He leaned in close, his tone syrupy and sharp. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

You gave a broken little sigh. “You were right. You were so right. It was arrogant of me to think I could do things on my own.”

Mark finally smirked something deep and you felt a wave of relief rush through you. “Well. At least you’ve learned something today.”

He gently lifted you into his arms, stepping over fallen books like they were debris after an explosion. “You won’t be lifting so much as a fork without my help from now on.”

You clung to him like a damsel in distress. “Oh nooo, what a shame.”

He paused at the doorway and looked down at you.

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” he asked, voice suddenly low and flat. “Because you know I’ll find out.”

You blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Mark. My bookshelf fell on me. I’m lucky to be alive.”

His eyes searched your face for a long, unnerving moment… then he smirked again. Kissed your forehead.

“Good girl.”

You sighed dramatically, burying your face in his chest as he floated you off to the couch.

Another day, another tragedy avoided. Except for your bookshelf, you supposed...

No Goggles/Lensless!Mark

You were really just starting to make progress on the move when you heard it.

Click.

Thud.

“Hey,” Mark said casually, suddenly perched on top the bookshelf and looking down at you with a lazy grin. “Didn't realize you were this strong, babe. You ever think about joining the Viltrumite army?”

“Wha—Mark!” you gasped, heart racing just a bit. “W-What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just watching you work, babe! Gotta say—I’m impressed. Keep going. Show me whatcha got.”

You flushed a bit. “…But you’re sitting on it.”

Mark gave you a dramatic blink. “Yeah, and? I mean look at you! You’re so strooong, move it with me on it.”

“Mark...”

“C’mon!” He kicked his feet a little. “Let’s see that strength. I’ll just stay here and supervise.”

“…Can you get off please?”

“Nope. You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

You furrowed your brows, pouting for a bit. “Alright. Fine.” You braced yourself and tried to nudge the bookshelf forward, only for it to not move an inch under the added weight of your lovely, idiotic boyfriend.

He grinned even wider. “Aww, is the strong woman struggling?”

You scowled, leaning back off the piece of furniture. “I can’t do it with you on it. Get off.”

“Nah, I’m comfy.” He shrugged. “But if you really need help, I guess I could show you how it’s done.”

Before you could say anything, he jumped down and scooped you up in one smooth motion, plopping you onhis shoulder like you were a prize.

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” he says with a sigh. “I got this.” He reached over with one hand and picked the bookshelf up like it was a cardboard box.

“Wait, but—I didn’t even tell you where to put it!”

He grinned as he moved it toward the far corner of the room. “Right here’s perfect.”

“Noo, I wanted it on that wall.”

“Ehh, I’m feeling this spot more. Looks better, don’t you think?”

“Mark, I’m serious, that’s not—”

“You’ll love it,” he said with a laugh, already walking away from it and towards the sofa. “Trust me. I’ve got an eye for these things.”

You thought about arguing but stopped yourself short, realizing there was no point. He wasn’t even listening.

Mark kicked the couch aside with a careless boot and dropped down into the cushions like a king on his throne, moving you smoothly to straddle his waist. His grin was wide and feral, hair a little messy, pupils blown.

He looked very pleased with himself.

“Yup,” he said, hands sliding to your hips, smug as hell. “Pretty strong, babe. Got, like... crazy stats.”

You couldn’t help but look a bit amused. “….Stats?”

“Oh, you know,” he said casually, voice dropping as his eyes dragged slowly over your body. “Strength. Speed. Stamina. Core control.”

You bit back a smile.

“Wanna see what else I can do?” he grinned, and didn’t wait to hear your answer. You suddenly became very aware of the repeated tapping between your thighs.

He was making his dick jump.

You choked.

“Mark!”

Omni!Mark

You were halfway through dragging the bookshelf across the living room when his voice cut through the space like a blade.

“You shouldn’t be doing that.”

You froze, hands still on the edge of the shelf. “Jesus—Mark?”

He stepped into view from the hallway, calm and unreadable, but his gaze was locked on your hands. On the effort. On your shoulders straining beneath your t-shirt.

“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” you said, breath catching just slightly.

He said nothing to that. Just looked down at the shelf. Then back at you.

“I’m fine,” you offered, trying to keep your tone light. “Promise this might come as a surprise, but humans move furniture all the time. There’s a whole job field for it, actually. Movers. Crazy, right?”

The corner of his mouth twitched downward. Clearly not amused.

“I know you’re capable,” he said, stepping closer. His voice dropped a little. “Of more than you’ll ever give yourself credit for.” You blinked. “But this?” His gaze flicked to the shelf again. “You shouldn’t have to do this. Not with your hands.”

“My hands are fine.”

He reached out and gently took your palm in his — and suddenly, the shelf didn’t exist anymore. The room didn’t exist. Just his fingers wrapping around yours, warm and impossibly careful.

“These hands,” he said, brushing his thumb along your knuckles, “shouldn’t be calloused from dragging wood and steel. They should stay soft.”

You opened your mouth — probably to argue, maybe to scoff — but no words came out. Just heat. Everywhere.

“I don’t protect you because I think you’re weak,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I protect you because I can. Because you’re the only softness in a world that doesn’t deserve it.”

And just like that, you were putty. Your entire body went slack under his gaze, your throat thick, breath gone. Your fingers curled a little tighter into his without even meaning to.

“…You’re not playing fair,” you whispered.

His other hand lifted to your face, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone.

“I never said I was fair,” he said quietly. “Only that you’re mine.”

You nodded, helplessly. Of course. Obviously.

And when he leaned down to kiss you — slow, reverent, like you were something holy — you realized the bookshelf could stay exactly where it was.

Forever, even.

Didn’t matter anymore.

Shiesty!Mark

The bookshelf barely budged as you leaned your weight into it with a frustrated grunt. You were so close to getting it where you wanted it.

“You tryna remodel or build muscle, bae?”

You froze at the very familiar but very unexpected voice.

Mark stood in the doorway, one brow raised, smirking like he’d walked in on you cheating with another man — who just so happened to be made of plywood and frustration.

“You weren’t supposed to be home yet,” you said, trying not to sound as guilty as you felt.

“Clearly,” he said, strolling in like he owned the floor (and the ceiling, and probably you). “You out here grinding furniture across the floor like a damn forklift. Did I miss the call for backup?”

You sighed. “It’s not that heavy. I’ve almost got it.”

Mark leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like a man enjoying premium entertainment. “Oh no, go on. Don’t let me stop you. I love a strong woman. Grrr,” he teased, flexing his bicep in mock solidarity.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shelf. “It’s just gotta slide like three more inches—”

“Oh you tryna get precise with it,” he cut in. “Okay, okay, I see you. Interior design. Feng shui. Heavy lifting. Very sexy of you.”

“I swear to God, Mark—” Before you could finish, he was already behind you.

“I got it,” he said, voice suddenly softer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t hurt yourself, pretty.”

You stepped aside reluctantly as he crouched, rolled his shoulders back, and—because of course he did—lifted the bookshelf with one hand.

You blinked. “Did you... just curl it?”

He grinned, looking at you over his shoulder. “You like that? That was rep one. Want me to rack up a few sets? Maybe do a little shoulder press while you admire the view?”

“Mark.”

“Say it again like that and I’ll drop this bookshelf just to carry you to the bedroom instead.”

You would’ve choked if you’d been drinking something.

He moved the shelf exactly where you’d wanted it, then turned and leaned in close, mouth brushing yours. “See? I do listen. Sometimes.”

You melted. A little. Maybe a lot.

“So,” he said casually, already lifting you like a backpack, “wanna rearrange anything else while I’m warmed up? Your guts, maybe?”

“Mark!”

“Babe, I’m just tryna be helpful.”

Mohawk!Mark

You braced both feet against the floor, gave the bookshelf one last stubborn shove, and managed to move it a grand total of two inches.

You stepped back, breathing heavy, hands on your hips.

“Gotta ask,” came a gravel-rough voice behind you, “you movin’ that thing for fun or outta spite?”

You jumped. “Jesus—Mark! Warn a girl!”

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, suit already halfway unzipped and his hair looking a little messier than usual.

“You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” you muttered, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Clearly,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling in with that easy, heavy gait. “Figured I’d come home and find you curled up on the couch. Not out here goin’ to war with a damn bookcase.”

“I wasn’t—I am perfectly capable, thank you.”

“Sure you are,” he said, like he was humoring a toddler insisting they could drive.

“I am!”

He stopped in front of you, looking down at your flushed face and dirt-smudged palms. His gaze dropped to your hands, then back up to your eyes.

“Babe,” he said, voice lower now, quieter. “You don’t gotta play tug-of-war with your furniture every time I’m not in the room. You miss me? Call me. I’ll fly in, carry you and the couch if you need.”

You opened your mouth as if intending to explain your reasoning, but he was already moving. Already crouching. Already sliding one hand beneath the bookshelf like it weighed nothing.

With a casual exhale, he lifted it off the ground and nodded toward the other wall.

“Point where you want it.”

You furled in your lower lip, trying to ignore how hot this was. “...There,” you mumbled.

He walked it over. No strain. No effort. Just raw, grounded strength like it was part of his muscle memory now.

He set it down exactly where you needed it before turning to you again, rubbing sorely at the back of his neck.

“You good now?” he asked. “You wrestled the inanimate object. I showed up to finish the job. Domestic bliss achieved?”

You smiled, trying not to laugh. “I’m good. Thanks.”

He gave you that familiar crooked smile. “Next time just call,” he muttered. “You think I won’t drop a whole planetary threat just to come move furniture? Priorities.”

You snorted. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

He stepped a little closer, lifting your chin with two fingers. “You’re never a bother,” he said, voice just slightly softer now. “Maybe a bad decision, sometimes. But never a bother.”

You were biting hard into your bottom lip at this point, really trying to hold back your smile.

“…Bet you want me to carry you around now, too?” he asked, already bending to hook an arm under your thighs.

All you could do was squeal and giggle as he hoisted you up bridal-style, with a dramatic grunt that was absolutely just for show.

“There we go,” he muttered, planting a kiss on your temple. “Soft hands, remember? You keep ‘em pretty. I’ll do the heavy lifting. And the thinking. And the rescuing. You? You just sit there and look smug.”

You melted into his chest with a sigh. “Well, I was doing just fine before you showed up.”

He snorted as he lowered onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. “Yeah, you moved it a whole two inches. Might as well call NASA.”

You leaned back slightly, lips twitching. “I did move it though.”

He gave you a slow, unimpressed blink.

Then muttered, “You want a trophy or a chiropractic bill?”

You laughed—loud and warm—and when he leaned in to kiss you again, you didn’t even mind the dirt smudge still on your hands.

[humanrindswrites]

practice - epilogue

summary: three weeks after going long-distance again, bill sends y/n a very special gift in the mail

pairing: bill skarsgård x female reader

warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, morning sex, riding, pulling out, mutual masturbation, anxiety, mild angst with a happy ending

word count: 4376 words (apparently an epilogue isn't supposed to be more than 2000 words, but I couldn't help myself and got carried away)

a/n: originally this wasn’t going to be smut but i was hit by thirst inspiration. also, even though this is the end i’ll likely visit this dynamic again because i like to reuse reader characters.

one | two | three | four | epilogue

The sunlight was bright as it shone through a crack in the curtains, stirring Y/N from her peaceful slumber. She could faintly hear the New York traffic outside, just over the soft hum of electricity. A contented hum came from her throat as she tried to stretch her body out, only to be stopped by a strong arm draped over her waist. Carefully, she turned over in bed, and her eyes fluttered open, revealing Bill still asleep next to her.

Y/N watched him as he slept peacefully, his face soft and relaxed. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed steadily, and she smiled as she reached out to gently stroke his cheek with her fingertips.

Her fingers drifted over his jaw and trailed down his throat until she reached his chest, feeling his soft, steady heartbeat. Tenderly, she kissed the base of his throat and cuddled further into him, her ear resting over his heart as she fought off going back to sleep.

A soft groan came from his throat, telling her that he was waking up, and his arm tightened around her waist as he pulled her closer to his body, her face level with his. He softly brushed his lips against hers before he kissed her, letting his mouth linger.

”Hey, baby,” he said against her lips before slowly opening his eyes, his voice rough and scratchy from not being used. “Good morning.”

”Good morning,” Y/N replied and let herself be pulled on top of him, bringing the soft white sheets with her. 

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he ran his fingers through her hair. She nodded and gave him a soft smile before resting her forehead against his.

“Thank you for staying,” she said and tucked her neck into the crook of his neck, softly kissing his warm skin.

”Did you think I was going to disappear in the middle of the night?” He felt her nod and ran his fingers up and down her bare back, making her shiver. “Oh, baby, I’d never do that. Especially not when I can wake up next to you.”

 “You’re too sweet,” Y/N said as she lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him again.

His hands skimmed lower down her back as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, letting it dance with hers as he caressed her ass, squeezing softly. She could feel him start to grow hard against her thigh and heat pooled in her stomach as her pussy clenched. She was still tender after giving him her virginity the previous night, but she knew she already wanted him again.

“Can I touch you?” Y/N asked, her voice a whisper as her hands stroked his skin. 

He nodded and let her climb off of him, giving her full access to his hard cock. She swallowed in anticipation as she took in the sight of him and nestled into his side; his eyes clouded with lust as he watched her fingers trail down his chest and over his cock.

She took hold of him in a loose grip, feeling how soft the skin was and how hard he was in her palm. Her mind flashed back to what she’d remembered to do from some trashy magazine and she brought her hand up to her mouth and spat in it before running it over his cock to slick him up.

“Fuck…” she heard him moan as she started to slowly stroke him, relishing in how he felt in her hand.

Last night, he’d given her the best orgasms of her life, but being able to pleasure him was entirely different. She couldn’t take her eyes off his cock as it started to leak precum and she loved how he panted and moaned in her ear the more she stroked him.

“Spread it around,” he gritted, trying to form a coherent sentence. “Use your thumb on the tip.”

She did as he’d instructed her, swiping her thumb over the tip of his cock, his slick precum sticking to her as she spread it over the shaft. Her pace was kept slow and lazy, her grip loose, but it was just enough to make him feel good.

He slipped his fingers between her legs, immediately finding their way inside her wet pussy and spreading her slick over her folds and onto her swollen clit. She whined and buried her face in his shoulder, her hips immediately bucking into his hand as he rubbed tiny circles over it.

Gently, his fingers slipped inside her, rocking in and out before curling into her sweet spot as she continued to stroke him, her grip loosening every time a pang of pleasure coursed through her.

“Baby, I wanna ride you,” Y/N panted as she pushed his hand away, her pussy more than wet enough to take him.

“Are you sure? I didn’t bring another condom with me,” he said, breaking her out of her trance.

The last thing she wanted was to get pregnant, but she wanted him inside her so badly that she felt like she was about to combust.

“Yeah,” she said, and straddled his hips, his cock in her hand. “Just tell me to get off you when you cum.”

Bill shuffled up the bed so he could rest his back against the headboard and kissed her again as she hovered over his stiff cock. Even though she’d only just had her first time last night, Y/N could already feel the difference without a condom. As she sank onto him, she could feel every ridge, every vein as she took him as deep as she could without hitting her cervix. He stretched her out perfectly, her tight, wet cunt a snug fit for him as he let out a soft groan and let his head fall back against the headboard.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he sighed, and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into his body, her pussy dragging across his cock.

Remembering what he’d taught her before, Y/N rolled her hips into him, his cock staying inside her as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth, creating a steady enough rhythm for her to find her sweet spot.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he squeezed her hips. “Nice and slow.”

She shivered and clenched around him when she found her sweet spot, her hips grinding faster and harder into him until she had to stop to give herself a rest. Her legs started to burn and her breath came out in pants but she was determined to make at lease one of them cum.

“Take it easy,” she heard Bill say when she stopped for a second time. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Y/N took a breath and let her eyes drift closed again as she continued to slowly roll her hips, his cock throbbing inside her as his hands skimmed up her body to her breasts. She whined softly when his thumbs brushed against her nipples and placed one of her hands over his, clutching it tightly over her heart as she rode him.

Her free hand found its way to the back of his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled his mouth to hers. She fiercely kissed him until they were both breathless, her pussy clenching tighter around him as she felt her climax coming.

“You gonna cum already, baby?” Bill asked, biting back a moan of his own. He took his hand from her breast to lick his thumb and reached down to rub her swollen clit with it. “Cum for me. Please.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, her release coursed through her. She curled inwards and her hips stuttered against him as her cunt clenched hard around him, moans flying from her lungs.

Y/N felt like she was floating, like she was sinking into a warm bath as her hormones flooded her system. She wanted to keep him inside her forever, but the way his cock twitched and the way he moaned in her ear brought her back to reality.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he said through gritted teeth as he fought to keep it back. “G-get off me, use your hand.”

Y/N reluctantly raised herself into her knees, letting his cock slide out of her before she took him in her hand again, stroking him firmly. She listened to him gasp in pleasure as she swiped her thumb over the tip of his cock, just how he showed her, and he took her face in his hands to pull her mouth to his.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he babbled in-between kisses. “You’re so good, baby.”

He fiercely kissed her one more time before his orgasm crashed through his body, his cock throbbing and pulsing in her hand as his hips bucked into her and thick ribbons of cum spurted out onto his lower stomach.

Y/N let go of his cock, still letting him kiss her as the endorphins coursed through his body. He let his head fall back against the headboard again and let out a sigh of contentment.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathed as he traced his fingers over her forearms, wanting to keep touching her.

“I love you too,” Y/N said. She was about to cuddle up to him again when she remembered that he was still splattered with his cum. “Oh, lemme get you a tissue.”

She scurried into the bathroom to get some tissues, and she swore she could feel Bill’s eyes on her as she moved, ogling her naked body. She returned and wiped his skin clean before taking her place next to him on the bed, her body curled into his as he wrapped his arms around her.

“When’s your next adventure?” Y/N asked after they were quiet for a while.

“In about four months,” he said as he stroked her hair.

“What are you going to do until then?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his fingers trailing down to stroke her face. “See my family, my friends. Whatever happens, I guess.”

What about us? Y/N thought. What about me?

After lazing around in bed and ordering room service for breakfast, Bill eventually pulled Y/N into the shower with him. Although the shower consisted less of getting clean and more of cuddling together.

“I don’t want you to go back,” Y/N whispered into his chest as they stood under the shower spray, the water cascading over them as soap suds swirled down the drain.

“I know,” he said and stroked her back tenderly. “I don’t think I’m ready to go back.”

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, his height shielding her face from the water.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” she said when he reached behind him to turn the water off.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way while you’re working.”

“You won’t get in my way,” Y/N said when she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a couple of towels for them to dry off. “My place is nowhere near as big as yours, but it’ll be nice to have some company. Plus, I think my folks are itching to meet you.”

“You’ve been talking about me?” he teased as he took the towel from her and wrapped it around his waist.

“Just a little,” she said with a laugh. Or rather, a lot. “But only good things, don’t worry. They’ve taken to calling you ‘that nice Swedish boy.’”

He pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead, water dripping from his wet hair onto her face.

“Alright, we’ll go home together.”

Despite it being an off-the-cuff decision, asking Bill to come home to Los Angeles with her was the best decision Y/N had made in a long time. They’d fallen into a cohabiting routine so easily that it felt like they’d been living together for years. 

Although she’d only ever seen his home over FaceTime, she knew for certain that her apartment in West Hollywood was tiny compared to his place in Stockholm. But there was more than enough room for the two of them, along with Y/N’s pets. They were wary of Bill at first, but came around to loving him almost as much as she loved him.

Y/N was not prepared for how much her parents would love Bill. When they’d all gone out to dinner together, they were so excited to finally meet the man who’d made their daughter so happy, and were glad to find out that the ‘nice Swedish boy’ was even nicer in person. She was glad to know that Bill liked her parents, too; they were well-meaning and not overbearing, like she was scared they would be. Especially since he was her first real boyfriend.

Living with Bill was everything she’d ever hoped it would be. He was always waiting for her whenever she came home after recording, they made dinner together, they went out on dates or stayed in at night, and made love as often as they could. Her small apartment had felt cold and lonely before, but now it felt warm and full of love.

A few weeks into his extended break, Bill sent Y/N a message that made her anxiety spike: I’ve got something I need to tell you.

Her thoughts swirled as she drove home, a million different possibilities clouding her thoughts until she finally shut off the ignition and walked into her apartment. Bill was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, and immediately looked up when she closed the door behind her. He smiled and stood up to greet her, giving her a tight hug and kissing the top of her head.

“What was it you needed to tell me?” Y/N asked as she took her shoes off, trying to hide the shake in her voice.

Bill paused and bit his lip before sighing and leading her back to the couch. 

“I got a call from my brother today,” he said, keeping his voice even. “They’re having this big family gathering soon, and they want me to come home for it.”

“So, you’re leaving again?” Y/N asked, already feeling her eyes well up.

“I’m afraid so. But they’ve extended the invitation to you, if you want.”

“Bill, I’d love to come with you. But..” She trailed off and cast her eyes down to her knees, her throat closing as her anxiety bubbled up.

“But what? What’s wrong?”

Y/N looked up at him, and the worried expression on her face almost broke her. She knew that he wanted her to go back to Sweden with him, but she just couldn’t get past her anxieties.

“I’ve never been outside of the country without a lot of people,” she said slowly, forcing the words out of her mouth. “I get really bad travel anxiety when I’m alone.”

“But you’ll be with me, you won’t be alone. You were okay when we came back from New York.”

“My manager was with us then, it wasn’t the same.” 

Y/N could feel her fears bubbling up inside her and tears welling in her eyes as he placed his hands on her face to calm her down.

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”

“Okay,” she said, letting her breath out in a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

Y/N thought that she could do long-distance again - she’d done it before with little to no problems - but that was before she’d spent the most blissful six weeks of her life having Bill in her home. She’d stayed strong for him the whole time that she watched him get ready to leave and made it through seeing him off at the airport without crying, but once she was alone in her car, she let herself shatter.

She felt like her heart had cracked in two, like a piece of her soul was missing. Her breath was forced out of her lungs in heaving sobs, and tears streamed down her face as she slumped over the steering wheel. The thought of not having him by her side, not being able to touch him, or be held by him was crushing her, stealing all of the air from her lungs until her ribs ached.

She knew she was being ridiculous, she knew she was being selfish, but she needed to let herself feel how she did for her own sanity.

He’s going to call you when he lands, she told herself once she’d run out of tears. Stop being such an idiot and calm down.

Y/N took a deep breath, wiped her face, and turned the key in the ignition. She pulled the sun visor down to look at herself in the tiny mirror, examining how red and puffy her eyes were.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said to her reflection before driving back home. “You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman, and you’re going to be fine.”

A week after he’d gone, Y/N had slowly gotten used to being alone again. It still stung to remember that he was on another continent and not in the next room, but being able to hear his voice was comforting enough.

They’d gotten time zones down to a fine art, with Bill tending to call when it was early evening in Stockholm or just before he was about to go to bed. Even though Y/N had repeatedly told him that she’d answer the phone even if he called in the middle of the night, he still made sure to get the time right.

“Oh, before I forget,” Bill had said as he’d gotten ready for bed over FaceTime one night. “I sent something in the mail for you today, you should get it sometime next week.”

“What is it?” Y/N said as she placed her coffee mug down on her kitchen counter, her phone propped up against the toaster.

“It’s a secret,” he said with a knowing smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes, already impatient to know what it was. 

“Please?” she cooed, batting her eyelashes and giving him her best puppy eyes. “I don’t like secrets.”

“Nope, you’ve gotta wait and see,” he said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Pretty please?” All that earned her was a shake of his head. “Would you tell me if I took my top off?”

“I can’t be bribed that easily.”

“It was worth a shot,” she conceded with a shrug.

For the next week, Y/N monitored her mail like a hawk, rushing home every day after recordings and rehearsals to see if this secret item had been delivered yet. And each time, she was met with nothing but disappointment.

Until it finally arrived.

It was the very first thing she noticed in her mailbox: a slim envelope with a Swedish postage stamp and Bill’s handwriting on it. She squealed in excitement on seeing it and took it into her apartment, not caring about the rest of the mail.

Carefully, she opened the envelope and tipped the contents out onto her bed, her heart in her throat. Inside was a note with READ ME written on the back and something wrapped in tissue paper. Her hands shook as she unfurled the note, and she breathed a contented sigh when she read the words in Bill’s handwriting.

Y/N, I know you said you were scared about travelling outside the country alone, but the best way to face your fears is to face them head-on. See you when you land, B

“What do you mean, ‘see you when you land’?” Y/N wondered aloud as she took the wrapped present and gingerly tore the tissue paper off it.

It was light and flexible, like a piece of paper, but just a little thicker. He’d wrapped the thing in light blue paper, and she smiled at remembering how he thought blue was her best colour. The tissue slipped through her fingers easily, and she finally pulled her gift out, almost dropping it once she saw what it was. 

A one-way plane ticket. To Stockholm.

As soon as the fact that she was going to Stockholm had settled in, Y/N embarked on the most intensive form of research she’d ever done. Most of that research was in the form of Googling, but she did eventually bombard Bill with a million questions. She tried to hide how anxious she was about travelling alone, but she had a feeling that her constant questioning gave her away.

Bill was eternally patient with her, explaining that she should only bring as many clothes as she thought she needed, that no, it wouldn’t be cold because it was currently spring, and that the flight would be over before she knew it. She still missed him, but the thought of being able to see him in a week eased the pain tremendously.

Once all of her last-minute arrangements had been made - letting the studio know where she’d be, arranging for her parents to look after her pets while she was gone - Y/N finally made it to the airport on shaking legs. She had everything she needed with her to make sure being in the airport wasn’t like being stuck in hell, and once she finally boarded the plane, she felt like she could finally breathe.

Bill was right, the flight was over before Y/N knew it. Thirteen hours felt like three with how much she’d slept in her first class seat, only waking up for meals and bathroom trips. She’d kept herself calm by remembering his voice and how safe she felt when she was in his arms, and drifted off in no time. 

Y/N was jolted awake by the tyres touching down on the runway, her heart thrown into her throat once she realised where she was. Her heart started to race as she waited for the signal to start leaving the plane, and she forced herself to take deep breaths to prepare herself for the hectic airport ahead.

Calm down, she told herself. Bill’s waiting for you on the other side; you can’t see him if you’re a nervous wreck.

The thought alone was enough to bring her to her feet, determined to fight her way through the airport if she had to. Nothing was going to come between her and her man. Not passport control, not the other passengers, and certainly not her anxieties.

Getting through the airport in Stockholm was a million times easier than LAX to Y/N. Her nerves hadn’t gotten in her way as much as they had at the beginning of her journey, and she felt more confident handing over her passport and moving on as quickly as she could. Knowing that she would be back in Bill’s arms shortly proved to be a great motivator.

Y/N felt like she was about to drop once she’d finally walked through the doors to the airport lobby. Despite sleeping reasonably well on the plane, she felt exhausted, as if her social battery had been completely drained. The last thing on her mind was dragging her bags through crowds of people greeting each other when all she wanted to do was crash out.

She’d received a message from Bill the second she’d taken her phone off airplane mode, telling her that he’d meet her there, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Even when she stood on her toes to see over the heads of other people, she couldn’t find him.

Sighing, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and was about to type a message to Bill when a soft tap on her shoulder made her jump. A familiar chuckle came behind her, and a smile broke out on her face as she turned around to see him standing right behind her, his hand still on her shoulder.

She’d spoken to him on FaceTime the night before her flight, but seeing him was like seeing him for the first time all over again. She could never get tired of the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and adoring as a gentle smile crept over his face.

Tears pricking her eyes, she threw her arms around his waist and tightly held him to her body as she buried her face in his chest. She didn’t care if her tears fell or if she turned into a blubbering mess in the middle of the airport arrivals while people were whispering to each other and pointing at them together. They could look and gossip all they wanted, she was just happy to be back in his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and stooped down slightly to kiss the top of her head before resting his cheek on it, his palms stroking the tops of her arms as she let herself cry into his shirt. As soon as she was able to feel him in her arms, she completely forgot about why she was so scared to travel to see him. She’d known all along that he made her feel safe, and even just being with him felt like coming home.

“You made it,” he said into her hair, his voice loud enough for only her to hear.

“I did,” she replied as she lifted her face from his chest to look at him, her vision blurred by her tears. “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” 

He gently took his face in her hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs before kissing her softly and slowly. His movements were soft and chaste, not trying to deepen the kiss, but instead, he wanted to just remember how she felt.

Y/N never wanted the moment to end, but the feeling of the crowd around them starting to expand with a fresh batch of arrivals forced them apart. They both laughed and detangled from each other before Bill took hold of her heavier suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other.

“C’mon,” he said as he led her towards the exit. “Let’s go home.”

tags: @unlimitedlust @muchwita @malenoradgn @a-differentbrandof-beans @laniirackssss @voidofsunlight

[cultkinkcoven]

The song “like him” by tyler the creator really hits really fucking hard when your boyfriend and your God look the exact fucking same.

anyways last night I had a mental breakdown lol. just bawling my little baby eyes out. I really appreciate all the kind messages I’ve received from you all, I haven’t had the strength to reply to any of them yet. I fear that sometimes I make my life sound too theatrical. I present these experiences and memories like stories because that’s the easiest way to make sense of them. It’s hard to portray in text how real this is for me, if nothing else. I don’t really embellish much, I really try not to. It’s not a fantastical version of me at least, it’s a bitterly honest version of me, and that’s embarrassing. I started this page because it actually inspired me to write about it, and in the beginning I didn’t think anyone would even read it. I didn’t think anyone would notice. I like to laugh and joke about the absurdity but I’m laughing because if I don’t, I’ll cry. We talk a lot about the Luciferian path in terms of enlightenment and not trauma. and up until this point I suppose I didn’t feel traumatized, not by Lucifer at least.

But I do have a visceral reaction when I think about that whole ordeal, the court room, everything. And I was deeply affected by the moment afterwards. The most deeply traumatizing and painful part of that entire ordeal was the moment after the trial when all the Gods were clearing out. and I saw them all. And walked through them all terrified. and lost. Because they were all so foreign to me. And those arguments, “you have no fucking clue what you’re getting into kid”, haunted me then.

Aphrodite healed that with a word.

I still find it hard to believe that these things happen to me, please believe me when I say that at least. l I’ve tried very hard to come to peace with the fact that everything could be a fabrication. I analyze these experiences as if they are literally real, mystical. And then I analyze these experiences psychologically, as a form of dissociation, as a fractured identity perhaps. Neither form of analysis provides all the answers. So I try to take them together because that’s all I can do. I accept that I cannot know, and at the very least if any of it is real, my feelings and conclusions are. I’ve found peace in the concept that it is just as significant whether or not it is real. But then nights like last night happen and there’s a piece of my soul that both relishes and collapses, because it knows that this is realer than I can accept.

So I had a mental breakdown last night. And Lord Lucifer was with me, I could feel him holding me. And it’s always strange because it almost feels like I’m in a story book. It makes him feel very real, too real. Because then my bf comes in the room and I try to get myself together because I don’t want him to be worried about me, but Lucifer won’t let me. He forces me to be seen by him. I’ve been like this for days but i’ve been able to clean it up around him so far. I failed last night. and my boyfriend just scoops me up and holds me, exactly in the exact same way Lucifer does. And then he starts whispering to me direct quotes from Lucifer. It’s like he knows. But he doesn’t, that’s what makes it sting harder. and I’m crying and he doesn’t know why, and it’s not because anything is wrong. Everything is so incredibly right that it doesn’t even make sense. And I clung to him because it was all too real. Like he came down to me in the flesh because holding me in spirit wasn’t enough. and I can’t even understand how he, my boyfriend, is real. Physical with a beating heart. I’m too lucky.

idk

[bellamyarcade]

C/W: implied smut, bits of fluff, no use of y/n.

WORD COUNT: 0.3k

NOTES: I have never kissed a girl before either, but I’d probably like it just as much TBH.

SEE THE “IMPLICATIONS” COLLECTION

KISS — Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Natasha tells you with an almost imperceptible quirk of her lips. You smirk back, allowing her to press you up against the wall. 

“Oh yeah?” You taunt, listening to the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer from down the hall. A few more seconds and your cover will be blown. 

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning in closer, her hair spilling around your face like a curtain of fire, “Ever kissed a girl before?” 

“You wouldn’t be my first,” you lie. 

Natasha only hums briefly in mock disappointment, seeing right through you. But there’s no more time for games and she swoops in, her lips parting just a touch before they brush yours. 

The first caress is electric, and you both feel it as your eyes lock. You grab the back of her neck and pull her in again, your lips meeting more desperately this time. You shudder against her shapely curves as her tongue sweeps into your mouth, when you feel her hand exploring between your bodies, nimble fingers slipping further and further south. 

A groan reverberates from the back of her throat when she finds what she’s looking for. 

The security guard rounds the corner and finds the pair of you like that, bodies pressed together, her hand between your legs, and your lips kissed swollen. 

Natasha takes her time pulling back, levelling him with a dangerous look in her cat-like eyes, “Do you mind? Trying to show my girl a good time here.” 

The poor guy apologizes profusely, red in the face as he turns and retreats in the other direction. 

But she never withdraws her hand. Instead, she unfurls a full-on smile, relishing the way your breath hitches when she starts moving her fingers over the thin material of your tac-suit. 

“Bet I’ll be the first one to kiss you here, though?” 

[geeeemmmmmmm]

Talking in your sleep

A/N:Okay this was a very fun fic to write and hopefully I have improved since my last fic. So as always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!

Summary:Title basically sums it up

WC:726(short n sweet)

Gentle mumbling started to fill your room. Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist suddenly tightened the moment you could feel his soft breaths against your neck. It was incoherent when it stirred you awake but as you tried to turn your head just slightly to try catch a glimpse of him through the darkness, he mumbled something in Russian. You froze in place - you'd eased him through nightmares but never when he spoke Russian which usually indicated the winter soldier was out to play. He winced in sleep and pulled you back further into his chest, keeping his metal arm wrapped securely around your waist; his flesh arm stretched out under your head acting like a pillow, a muscly pillow at that. 

This nightmare or dream, your boyfriend was having with you cuddled up in his arms was one in the grey zone. Especially for only dating for a couple months. "Baby?" you questioned into the darkness after a couple minutes of trying to figure out what to do, still relishing how oddly protected you felt as his grip loosened as he kept mumbling, some parts Russian some parts barely coherent words. Your question was met with silence and you just sighed and fell back into slumber.

"Don't take her" Bucky's voice filled the room again yet this sentence brimmed with hostility directed to the shadows in his mind or your room who knows. In the blink of an eye Bucky had tugged you on top of his chest, it would look abnormal to see the position you and Bucky were in. Bucky laid on his back, shifting his arms to wrap around your stomach like you are about to fall off into something with your back still firmly pressed against his chest, all while he managed to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck - a habit of his you have grown fond of and evidently his subconscious has too. Just slightly you angled your head to gain a look of the alarm clock shining on your bedside table. It had been a couple hours since he started to mumble but too early to wake you both up. 

"Sitting on a cornflake.." his voice slightly more clear as he huffed out a breath on your neck. It took everything in you not to laugh at the nonsense he was saying. Gently you freed one of your arms and moved it to cup your boyfriend's face. His movements stilled with your touch, you could just barely see him cracking open his bright blue eyes through the darkness of your room. "Hey.. you alright? What time is it?" He asked gently - his voice thick from sleep but regardless it tugged your heartstrings. "Nothing just heard you dreaming, I wanted to make sure you were okay" you whispered back, letting a small laugh out from his remarks made in slumber. He just mumbled something against your neck in between kisses along your jawline, making you laugh even more. 

"Would be nice to sit on a cornflake though," you whispered, moving your head more to meet his eyes. His expression seemed confused but quickly his mind caught up "It was actually" he said simply, but even you could hear the smirk hiding behind his tone. "Oh is it now?' you huffed out while manoeuvring to be tucked into his side again. "Go back to sleep m'tired" his voice returning back into a deep sleepy voice again. You couldn't tell if he was faking his tone or it was genuine but who are you to say no to going to sleep in your boyfriend's arms for a couple extra hours. "I'll record you next time" you whispered letting your tone waver between seriousness and being satire. "Like hell you will" Bucky huffed out a light chuckle before wrapping his arms around you, keeping you in a comfortable "cage" in his arms. Carefully you arched your neck up to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his side, letting your arms wrap around his neck and onto his chest. Running your fingers along his chest to make random patterns, an action of yours you knew Bucky loved. Before you knew it, sleep had enticed you back. You both spent the rest of the early morning hours tangled in each other's limbs, letting soft breaths from slumber fill the room once again.

A/N:I did miss writing for you guys, seeing thunderbolts a couple days ago helped motivate me more lol

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Y-yeah," Russell said "It's, it's not for, for everyone. It's, it's a farming and, and life sim. But it's, it's been one of, one of the, the best things I've, I've spent fif-fifteen dollars on. We,w ere thinking of, of maybe meeting up at, at like a, a park, taking a, a picnic, playing some, some music quietly, seeing if, if there's any, any interesting birds. He, he loves birds."

Russell smiled and nodded.

"Sometimes it's, it's nice to, to do some-something chill like, like that. Stream for, for each other, just, just vibe tog-together," Russell said, smiling "Some-sometimes I've, I've done with mine or, or my friends' streams. Just, just hung out in, in their chats or, or they've hung, hung out in mine."

With the talk of the band potentially breaking up, maybe Russell would a bit more time for those too. Along with drumming streams as well.

"M-maybe I'll, I'll have to, to play it, it in, in my next stream, play the, the mutiplayer mod that, that got made," Russell said with a chuckle, "It, it can get, get a little cha-chaotic sometimes, but that, that adds to, to the fun."

And it could be good to invite Anton to that too. Hopefully Anton would enjoy it if he did decide to join him. But then Russell looked delighted.

"My, my brother's got, got some like, like that too," Russell said, "I, I should, I should get, get some too at, at some point r-really. But, but this ones are, are nice too."

Russell nodded again.

"There's, there's potential for, for creativity in, in almost every-everything, even if, if it might not be, might not be always easy to, to find, be-because creating is, is part of, of being human," Russell said, "Yeah, I've, I've had them here, here before. The, the toasted cheese with, with the, the cheddar, relish, and, and the mozzarella is, is one, one of my, my favourites."

He was not going to mention that it also worked with apple slices. That might have sounded a little too weird. Russell smiled a little.

"Y-yeah, and, and if, if you to be, be good at, at making something, we, we just gotta keep, keep making it," Russell said, "Heh, I, I get that. I, I admit, drumming comes easily to, to me be-because I've got the, the drums be-between myself and, and my audience. Same for, for when I stream. There's, there's that, heh, that barrier. Makes me feel, feel a, a little less exposed. But, but I, I did get brave enough to, to volunteer for, for a magician's show a, a little while back. Heh, I'll, I'll keep that in mind for, for if I, if I do practice and, and might need some, some pointers."

Russell rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Oh, heh, well, kinda, I, I used to, to walk my, my neighbour's dog just, just to help 'em. He, he was this, this nice fluffy Samoyed, or, or eskie, I, I can't remember now, called, called Ori. But yeah, Mis-Misty herself is, is real friendly and, and loves having a, a lap to, to sit on, esp-especially when, when I'm playing a, a game or, or reading a book."

Russell smiled fondly at that.

"Heh, you're, you're right. Just, just like people, an-animals can, can have their, their personalities and, and quirks, and likes and, and dislikes."

Russell took another sip of his drink while Anton had a look around for Alex. But it didn't take long for them to show up.

"No problem," they said, as the wrote that down, "What kind of bread would you like and what fillings would you like in that? And would you like a bag of chips too?"

Russell gave Anton a small sheepish smile then, as he put his glass back down on the table.

❛stardew valley...❜ anton nodded, stroking the side of his chin for a moment as he thought. ❛i had an acquaintance who played that a lot. it’s nice. and we’re still on good terms, just haven’t been in touch for a while. i did this for some time with a friend who turned out to be from another town. just streaming to each other. it was fun.❜

❛not too soon. but also, not too far in the future. hope you have a good time!❜ he offered with a smile.

anton then chuckled. ❛i’ll take your word for it. haven’t played mario 64 a lot, i’ve forgotten what it was like. goes right to the list of games to try together with you, now. heh.❜ he also drank a bit of coke, looking down at his glass. ❛one of my friends had glasses shaped like cola cans for a while. i like these too, though.❜

he nodded in agreement, offering a quiet yeah. ❛i’m sure. and that sounds interesting. why not. i tend to stick to what i know when i make something, even though that might sound like it defeats the idea of creativity... but then, creativity happens when you put a new twist to something that already exist, no? maybe i just don’t like that when it comes to cooking specifically. unless the food ends up really tasty.❜ anton gave a shrug. ❛people are strange when you’re a stranger...❜ he hummed the doors’ song. ❛and i sometimes do end up being one.❜ he sighed. ❛anyway, i’ll definitely try that sandwich, then.❜

anton felt his face becoming warmer. ❛it’s not a problem, don’t worry. i didn’t feel rushed. just didn’t want to look rude and all.❜

❛oh yeah. truly, better to end up with something real and flawed than to be stuck with daydreams and nothing but frustration.❜ anton could think of his own examples of the opposite happening. his band’s bassist and back vocalist sigge often acted that way, insisting on practicing his solos for hours and hours to try to channel the anger from their rivalry into something productive. and yet they’d fight on and on. at this point it was about stupid, irrelevant things, and a lot of the time anton took it exactly as the joke sigge intended it to be - they were hardly seriously angry at each other anymore - but sometimes siegfried made no sense at all. and anton got mad.

❛ahh. i get it now.❜ he laughed awkwardly, the slightest of shakes appearing in his voice as he did. ❛i felt that way before singing in front of other people for the first time.❜ anton looked lost in his thoughts for a few seconds then. ❛i liked to sing, and i liked playing the guitar, but only in front of the guys... it was a bit unnerving to have other people watching. you get over it, though. and seeing that people liked what we did made us more confident over time. so... yeah. think about it and try it before you decide, we’re open to, uh, being the people you try it with if you want musical company.❜ anton chuckled.

❛you got to see what both are like, in a way, hm? of course, when you have a dog, you spend time together outside of walks, too... it’s different. but still. if you have a pet, whatever the kind - maybe except fish, i suppose - it will be happier if you keep it company. play with it, give it pets.❜ anton gave a thoughtful hum. ❛like us humans they can also be braver, or more fearful, or more... opinionated, or lazier, or more playful, with different characters like we have. i can see what you mean, though, for sure.❜

then he looked around, trying to spot alex and speaking up slightly when he did. ❛could i have a toasted sandwich, please?❜

[3416]

I'm here in your inbox. Mitch Marner is arrogant. Can't wait for him to be gone offt hockey team. Berube will make sure of it.

omg thanks for coming. LKFJDSKLFKLS, i actually laughed out loud seeing the ask notif BUT ANYWAY... berube is legit gonna love him though................... even mike babcock didn't hate the guy despite deciding to psychologically torture him a bit as a rookie and even THAT wasn't enough to run him off..... i'm not gonna argue mitch doesn't have an ego, as every talented pro player does, but i do think it's incredibly funny that you (and everyone that shares those opinions) think mitch isn't one of the hardest working or maybe THE most versatile player the leafs have. accountability isn't something mitch marner lacks, as much as that's the tone deaf narrative in leafs-uncle-land.

[hayatoseyepatch]

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓ Ｎｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ － Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ － Ｄｏｇｇｙ Ｓｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

 He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ － Ｍａｔｉｎｇ Ｐｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ － Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ － Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

[classyrbf]

thinking about jerking off nerd!gojo with your tits in his dorm room. You couldn’t care less for the loser, forced to have him as a tutor because you were failing your chem classes and needed an easy way out of your parents bitching at you. Quite literally you’ve gotten tired of hearing him talk and talk about stupid elements, formulas and equations because you’d rather much see the look on his face when he’s about to cum and hear how he sounds when he’s begging.

So that’s how you ended up on your knees in front of him, shirt unbuttoned and your tits covered in his pre cum, his thick and veiny cock pulsing between the two mounds of flesh as you move it up and down his sensitive shaft. His breath hitches, cheeks flushed a bright red, hands shaking as he struggling to push his glasses back up only for them to slide back down. “F-fuck,” he so sweetly whimpers, licking his dry lips. He loves the way you’re looking up at him, like you’re staring into his soul while simultaneously taking it. His heart pounds against his chest, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin hugging his aching cock, your warm tits only giving him an idea of what your pussy might feel like.

“Nngh, oh f-fuck…we’re…supposed to be…studying,” he managers to croak out through his pathetic moans and whimpers. His sucks in a breath, eyes rolling back when you go even faster, the sound of wet flesh smacking against each other makes the perverted part of his brain go into overdrive. He’s so fucking close.

“Awe, but don’t you wanna cum, Toru?” You teasingly ask, watching the way his throbbing red tip leaks another bead of precum only adding to the lubrication. The nickname alone drives Gojo crazy. He fists the sheets below him, jaw slack, a dazed look in his eyes. “We’ll make a deal, yeah? I’ll let you cum and do this as many times as you want as long as you do my chem work for me.” You smile, holding your tits tighter. “Deal?”

“Ok, ok, ok.” He ferociously nodded, biting down on his bottom lip. “I wanna cum so badly, please.” He let out a ragged breath, falling back on the bed as his body began twitching, hips jolting upward to create more friction. Just in mere seconds, ropes of sticky, hot cum shot up, landing on your tits. “Shit, shit! Ah, ah, nngh!” Gojo’s eyes rolled back. This feels like the most he’s ever came in his life. His legs began to shake the longer his orgasm lasts, groans and whimpers escaping his throat, filling the small room. His raspy breaths fall short, finally coming down from his high. He can barely even think straight now.

“God, you made such a mess!” You huff, looking down at your coated tits.

“Oh, uh—I’m sorry!” Gojo quickly sits up, panicking as he searches around for something to help you clean up. He swiftly hands you one of his shirts, handing it to you. You snatch it from his hands, wiping up every last drop of cum before tossing his shirt to the side. “Are you…um—”

“I gotta go.” You stand up, buttoning your shirt. “Thanks for agreeing to the deal.” You lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gojo watches as you leave his dorm room without a care in the world, acting like you didn’t just milk him dry with your tits. At least he has something to look forward to every few days now.

[ailithnight]

So, DC timelines are perpetually baffling to me, so I'm not certain, but I think the Justice League formed after Dick became Robin. So...

Bruce: Need to call Zatanna.

Dick: Who's Zatanna?

Bruce: A friend.

Dick, tensing, suddenly suspicious: Since when do you have friends?

Bruce: . . . *sigh* It's [date], chum. You are younger than you should be and I've made friends by now.

I have an obsession with Batfam meets the Justice League fics and headcanons in general, and my favorite situation is when the JL fully knows Nightwing, he's on the team, they all like him quite a bit, and he's so charming and open seeming that they all collectively forget that they don't know anything about him.

I want that, then on a mission, fighting a magic user of some sort, Nightwing gets zapped back to young Robin age. So everyone else on said mission is left confronted with 9 year old Dick Grayson in full Robin gear, who is fully ready to fight every single one of them, and they generally have no idea what's happening or who this child is, other than the fact that he's probably young Nightwing, except he won't answer to that name.

And Dick, extremely confused and suspicious because he doesn't know half of the people there, and the ones that he is aware of are wearing different costumes or are just straight up different people than they're supposed to be, proceeds to try and fight them, then actively try to run away.

Then they finally manage to wrangle him back to the Watchtower, trying to grapple with the implications that Nightwing has been a highly trained, costume vigilante since childhood, and managed to break a bone in Green Arrow's hand before they subdued him, and is still thrashing around and trying to bite various League members.

They call Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman in to see if they have any idea what to do with him, and when Robin sees Batman, he squirms out of Flash's grasp, runs to Batman, and climbs up his side until he's wrapped himself around his shoulders like he does it every day.

The Bat lets this happen, sighs in exasperation, then calls Zatanna to help.

The League is then left to piece together why tiny child Nightwing ran to Batman for safety, and why Batman seems a whole lot less confused than everyone else.

[asce-of-hearts]

milf reader and barely legal gojo blehhhhh, not proofread!!!!!!!!

part 2, part 1.5, part 1.6

Barely Legal!Gojo who uses his first day as an adult going bar hopping, getting so drunk he's kissing everything and everyone.

Barely Legal!Gojo who gets dared by Suguru to go and talk to the gorgeous, curvy and very obviously older woman who is dancing with her friends, a fucking MILF. Who is so drunk he doesn't hesitate as he stumbles your way.

Barely Legal!Gojo who can't lie when asked about his age. Who feels disappointed when the only thing you allow him to do is buy you a drink, or two, or twelve.

Barely Legal!Gojo who feels himself getting hard when you cling to his arm and whisper to him sweetly: "I wish you were like eight years older so I could flirt with you properly."

Barely Legal!Gojo who lets all coherent thoughts leave his mind as he turns to kiss you, not caring if the bar is full, he will be groping you over your dress.

Barely Legal!Gojo who fucks your throat in the bars bathroom. Stuffing your throat full of his fat cock like you're a college whore who has done too much coke.

Barely Legal!Gojo who fucks you like he has had a thousand years of experience. Who folds you in half, spanks your ass, manhandles you with ease.

Barely Legal!Gojo who makes you cum at least three times every time you two fuck. Who can go hour after hour after tortuous hour fucking your gorgeous womanly body.

Barely Legal!Gojo who flashes a shit eating grin at the black haired boy you introduce as your son when you tell him he's your boyfriend.

Barely Legal!Gojo who makes you scream in your bed, where you surely slept with your ex-husband before. Who is sure he's just so much better than him in every way by what you've told him. Your ex husband was a loser who was addicted to gambling, in debt and submerged in alcoholism. Nothing like him, the thriving jujutsu student in the prime of life.

Barely Legal!Gojo who has to resist the urge of poking holes in his condoms, because he just has to claim your body like that other loser did. He has to have you round and glowing with his little bastard.

Barely Legal!Gojo who loves to suck at your tits. Who goes almost catatonic as soon as he gets to latch to your nipple and suck as if you could give him milk. Who can't get enough of those beautiful breasts of yours, of groping them, of slobbering over them like a dog.

Barely Legal!Gojo who loves your curves, your cellulite, your stretch marks, your dimples and freckles and crevices. Who loves to have a MILF on his bed.

Barely Legal!Gojo who shows you off to all his friends. Who shows them your pictures fucked out over his bed, bouncing your ass on his cock and moving your hips in enticing 8-shaped motions, who relishes on the jealousy they feel at him getting to fuck every young and dumb fuckers wet dream.

Barely Legal!Gojo who feels heartbroken when you tell him you can't see him anymore. Because your ex-husband promised to work things out with you, and you don't want to break his heart. You promise him someone else will come, someone prettier and younger, but no, he wants you. And he will have you.

Barely Legal!Gojo who realizes he fucked up when he decided that he was going to beat up your looser, gambling addicted ex husband.

Barely Legal!Gojo who swallows down hard when he realizes that your ex-husband, the gambling addiction, irresponsible, in debt, is nothing more than the Toji Fushiguro, who will make sure nobody but him gets to have your pretty pussy.

this is a mess idk idk idk

Gojo M.List

TAGGING: @sunnymmoon @lilithlunas @imvivian @eroscastle @goldenglow149

@lurexin @stranger00001 @delicatelycraftedbambi @rania200527 @kitzusune 

@mizzhellsingsstuff @lakxcpsta @coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @akirahyoshi

@lilyalone @oliviathatgirl @eeelieschariot @hannas16 @surelynotaspider 

@mimihaitani @raxshall @ayn-yurbestie @xxj0rd13xx @gojo-saturu-sweet-tooth

@mokingbrd78k @janeisnotonline @sukunaspillow @architectofsuffering @mrstraffy

[tonycries]

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Synopsis. They’re not drunk on alcohol - no, they’re drunk on you and your pretty lil’ pússy.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pússydrunk boys, strength differences, bréeding, màting press, desperate boys, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Nanami’s side), praise, degradation, smacking, cúmplay, dirty talk, some HEINOUS things, lowkey fluffy Sukuna, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Was originally gonna be something else but I couldn’t get it out of my head so-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Won’t stop, can’t stop

A pussydrunk Toji Fushiguro promises to break you - and is fully intent on fulfilling these promises. There’s no way he wasn’t with the way he had you folded into a mating press for the third time tonight. 

“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, begging for- you don’t even know at this point. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth, and you flinch as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Vision blurry, drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth, his cum gushing out of your overfilled pussy and spreading in a lewd little pool beneath you. You’re beyond the point of cockdrunk at this point - all you can do is sit there and take it while he keeps squeezing himself into you with reckless abandon. 

That little scar on the corner of his mouth rubs against your lips so deliciously as he grimaces in both pain and pleasure. Overstimulating you both to insanity. And fuck, Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum against but damn if he wasn’t going to try. Just wanting to fill you up one more time- “One more, doll. Not fucking enough.”

And before you know it, your pussy is clenching around nothing. 

“Ngh- T-Toji.” Face sinking into the plush pillow as Toji flips you like a ragdoll. Not even giving you the time to register what’s happening before he’s bullying his thick cock into your dripping cunt from behind. Relishing in that delirious little squeal of surprise that leaves you as he stuffs you full again.

“Shit, fucking squeezing around me so fucking deliciously, sweetheart. Look at ya.” he slurs hoarsely, voice shot. Drinking in your sobbed little, “Ah- jus’ like that. Fuck hngh- keep going-”

Both of you are barely lucid at this point, but it’s all that tiny rational part of himself can do to not fuck into your sloppy pussy like an animal while you clench and flutter around him. Kissing hotly down your spine as you desperately adjust to his massive cock.

But ah you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling of realization at the way his achingly hard cock was throbbing inside your walls at a maddening little bump! bump! bump!

With an impatient little grunt, Toji wraps an arm around your waist to give your quivering cunt a soft little swat! He drinks in your cute lil’ gasp of surprise, reeling back all the way till his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance, pushing in quick, short jabs of his hips - more to fit himself deeper inside your snug cunt than anything. 

With each harsh thrust, Toji’s pulling you back onto himself with bruising strength. Forcing you to feel every ridge and vein against all the right places as he stretches you on his cock. “Fuck, you’re incredible.” he murmurs. “Arch more f’me- yeah, that’s it. Tha’s my girl.” 

And oh how you love being thrown around by him this way. Because no more was Toji self-conscious about hurting you like he usually was. 

No, he’s pushing your back down to arch into his dick, still using and bending you however he pleases. And as he flattens his feet on the mattress, putting his body weight onto yours, it’s only a matter of time before you wonder when bones will start breaking.

But it still wasn’t enough. And he’s restless. 

Because Toji’s looping two strong arms around your legs, letting himself fall backwards onto the mattress, hips burning as he keeps fucking you like an animal. Not pausing even as you clench around him in shock. 

“Feels s’fucking heavenly.” he groans, voice raw. “Wan’ one more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” Lacing his fingers above your head to push. Down down down. So fucking filthily. 

And it burns the way he had you so shamefully spread open. At this point you can hardly believe you’re conscious let alone being able to sob out a strangled little, “Yes! Yes yes yes make me cum, Toji. Make me cum all over your cock again.” 

And he does - thumb pressing down on your poor, ravaged clit. Hard. unmoving even as you whine and buck into his touch. Torn between running away and pushing back for more more more- you cum with nothing more than pathetic little tingles that make you milk Toji’s cock desperately. Batting your lashes tearily up at him with a low, “Wan’ you to hah- c-cum insi-.”

You don’t even have to finish the sentence, before Toji’s pumping his seed into you with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. Nothing more than hot, sticky wisps of cum that trickle down the side, too much for your poor overfilled pussy. Shooting delicate rope after rope until his cock is angry and twitching inside with nothing but blanks.

But in the haze of your high, you hear the way your boyfriend still finds it in himself to chuckle.  A dark little, “One more, sweetheart.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - His, his, his

When Nanami Kento is pussydrunk, everyone will know the day after. 

And by everyone, it’s everyone - from the apartment security guard that blushes and looks away, to your coworkers who titter when you walk in. 

Because Nanami can’t stop himself from claiming each and every inch of your pretty self. Lips searing on your skin, leaking tip dragging along your swollen folds. His precum smearing so filthily across your cunt.

“K-Kento-” you mewl, grinding your hips into his so that he would just fucking ruin you like you wanted him to. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, nipping along the delicate skin of your neck. Tongue flattening, licking long, languid stripes down like a sort of reverence. “Tell me what you want, my love.”

And if he put an emphasis on the pet name, well, then let it be known that Nanami Kento was a composed man - but that wouldn’t mean he won’t let everyone know you’re his. Even those scrubs that can’t take a hint. 

Which is why his neat fingernails were digging deep into your hips, leaving pretty crescents in their wake. Dragging down ever-so-slightly to leave you all marked up and his. His grip on you only tightens at the pretty lil’ whines that spill from your kiss-bitten lips, “Wan’ you- hah- inside me s’bad.”

“Oh? And who does my girl want inside her pretty lil’ cunt?”

“You! You Kento- ngh-”

Well, whatever his girl wants - she will get. Because Nanami’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning at the way you’re already clamping down on him so deliciously. Not stopping till you were flush against the neat tufts of blond at his base. Barely even giving you time to adjust because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re sucking him up so well. 

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Yeah fuck me just like that- Kento.” you’re tightening your legs around him, letting Nanami all but use you as he thrusts in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Mouth still marking and biting your skin relentlessly. 

His lips leave your neck to whisper against yours, eyes half-lidded and boring into yours. “Love when y’say my name.”

Gasping breathlessly at the bruising grip all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your throat - just everywhere because Nanami can’t get enough of you. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace. Ramming his thick cock into your sloppy pussy deeper and deeper. “You’re mine, y’know that? All mine. And anyone with eyes can see that.”

Several things happen at once, you let out a strangled moan as Nanami changes his angle to hit that one spot he knew so well. Flushed tip hitting it over and over until you were sure it was bruising. As bruising at the hand kneading your ass, swiftly coming down. Hard. 

Smack!

Nanami’s large handprint sears into your skin. And through the haze, he soothes his hand over the sting. Starting to draw slow, languid circles on your swollen clit like a little apology - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer. Not at all - in fact, before you can react, he’s touching any and every inch of skin once more, making sure to leave pretty lil’ marks for days.

And he has to fight that loud, carnal part of himself that just wants to ruin you under his hands here forever, but no - Nanami needs everyone else to see as well. See how you’re so beautifully his.

Smack! 

“So pretty f’me, my girl. All f’me.”

“Yes! Ah- yes yes yes. S’all for you, Kento oh-” you moan brokenly like a mantra. A raw little ah! ah! ah! Leaving your swollen lips each time his twitching balls smack your ass, so wet and sloppy with your slick. You’re sure they leave a mark every time his achingly hard cock bullies into your snug cunt, dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Then you’re gonna cum f’me, too, pretty girl?”

“Yes- ah-” Hand on your clit frenzied now, hips out of control. Breath hot against your ear while he holds you down in a bruising grip. So very filthy and all his-

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity sparking down your spine as you cum so hard that you grab at Nanami’s sculpted back for some - any - semblance of sanity.��

The only things on your mind being how hot and heavy he was fucking you through your high, and the sharp sting on the crook of your neck, his canines digging into your delicate skin.

“F-fuck.” he whispers, muffled in your neck. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Ngh-” hips stuttering and so sloppily still meeting yours. Still fucking rock-hard.

And through your glassy vision you manage to make out the pure pride shining in his eyes as he reads the silent question on your face. 

“Not yet, my girl. I still see some blank spots.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Quiet bully

“Mm, not hngh- stopping until you cum again f’me, pretty girl.”

When Geto is pussydrunk you barely even notice at first.

Because he’s the ever-graceful and suave Geto Suguru, even when he’s ramming into your pretty pussy with reckless abandon. Head thrown back, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead, hands bruising on your hips and pulling you to deeper into his hips as he fucks you from behind. 

The only way you do get an inkling of the fact is because he’s so mean. Geto always is in bed - but right now he’s just bullying you. Long index toying with your swollen clit, quick, maddening little motions to get you off for the nth time tonight. 

“But, Suguru!” you mewl, clawing at the sheets, “C-can’t cum again-”

“You will.” he leans down, breath hot against your ear as he whispers, low and gravelly. His abs are rubbing against your back as he keeps his unforgiving pace, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Because Geto doesn’t get drunk on just your pussy - no, he gets drunk off of all of you and how pretty you are when you’re cumming all for him. 

“C’mon, you do it f’me.” he hums, so mockingly innocent that would’ve almost believed him - if it wasn’t for the way he speeds up on your clit. Throbbing cock twitching inside you at the delicate tears streaking down your face. 

Fingers merciless on your clit, balls smacking against your skin, holding you still as he rams into you over and over-

“S-Suguru!” you let out a strangled gasp, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes as you cum. And oh he loves that cute lil’ expression on your face, the tears clinging on to your lashes and the way your slutty cunt flutters so filthily around him.

You’re lucky you’re turned away from him, because you don’t see the cruel little smile that curls his lips or the excitement flashing in his darkened eyes. Though, maybe it would’ve better prepared you for when he huffs out a fucked-out, “Tha’s my girl. One more- Hngh- one more.”

Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you because fuck you weren’t going to make it out alive, Geto was going to absolutely ravage you till you’re ruined-

“O-one more.” Geto groans like a mantra. Flattening his feet on the bed to ram into you at a different angle - one he knew would hit you at that one spot that had you gasping and grinding deeper into his throbbing cock. “One more f-fuck, give me one more-”

If you were in a better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed how fucking sloppy and mean Geto was slamming his cock into your snug pussy. And how his sadistic little hums were becoming more and more strained, turning into broken grunts like he was begging you. Begging himself. Still fucking you like an animal, bodyweight pushing yours down, you crushed underneath him. Trying to milk that last, sweet little orgasm out of you.

“Cum f’me once more, my girl.”

And nothing more has to be said before you’re cumming. Again. Eyes scrunching shut in pain and pleasure as you grab at the headboard for some semblance of stability. 

Honestly, you don’t even have to, because Geto’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his heated body. Grunting as your cunt desperately tries to milk him for all he’s worth. Brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. But Geto can’t - won’t right now. Not yet. 

Instead he’s reeling his hips back again, until his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy hole. Running on just your cute lil’ whines and the way you were clamping down so deliciously around him. Thrusting in frantic, shallow grinds for now because he was feeling so generous as to ease you into it.

“Suguru! Ah- not again-” you squeal, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. But whatever plea that comes next gets stuck in your throat as your loving boyfriend utters words that have your cunt clenching exhaustively in anticipation. 

“Now the real fun starts.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please, baby. Please.”

For Choso, it’s hard to not get drunk off of your pretty lil’ cunt. And he gets so whiny and needy when he does. Barely even squeezing his throbbing cock through the first ring of muscle before he thinks he might just see the pearly gates of heaven - and you were an angel. 

You’re just so warm and sloppy on top of him, slick dripping down to his twitching balls, swallowing him up so deliciously. 

“Ah! Ngh- s-slow down-” you whine, head spinning at the pure stretch of him stuffing you full. His twitching balls were pressed against your ass, veins grazing against your plushy walls, pulsing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! that you can feel in your throat. “S’too big, Cho. I don’t think I can-” 

“No!” he gasps into your skin, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently. “Need it s’bad. Need you so bad- Fuck, I can’t stop-” 

Hips moving mindlessly, fucking up in tiny, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside you. Not even fully inside you, but he was already so out of control. 

The mattress is creaking deafeningly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from down below. “Choso-” you whimper, torn between clamping down on his swollen cock to suck him up more desperately and running away. 

“Oh- oh baby, f-fuck. Squeezing m’so tight.” he’s groaning into the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped so tight around your waist that it almost hurt. “Hngh- Don’t think you can run away from me.” And Choso couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to - barely even giving you time to adjust before he’s milking himself on your dripping cunt. 

Cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips each time he rams himself inside deeper and deeper, you were just gushing around him. Pretty pussy taking him so readily despite your protests. “Need this so hngh- fucking badly. Need this need this need this-”

“F-fuck, Cho- Yes, give it t’me.”

Ah, his head was spinning. The only thoughts running through his mind being how sloppy you were, so wet and squeezing him so perfectly - his pretty girl was taking him so well. 

Blindly, Choso shifts onto his forearms, head craning to graze his lips along the seam of your mouth . Mind too hazy to kiss you properly like he wanted to - but it’s fine, he’ll kiss you silly after this. Fuck, he muses, balls squeezing painfully, just as soon as he cums. 

And you can do nothing more than take it as he chokes out low little moans of your name. Head spinning because his cock was so big and he wasn’t stopping - just wanting to fuck your tight pussy until he-

“Ngh- c-can’t fucking take it anymore, baby. Need to fucking cum.” he grunts, tearing springing to his eyes, sounding like he’s losing a bit of his sanity every time his heavy balls smack your ass. And he needed you to, too - ringed fingers snaking down to draw harsh, frenzied little patterns on your swollen clit. Not even circles because shit Choso doesn’t have the time for that - just wanting to have you gasping and seeing stars as soon as possible. 

“Cho, m’c-close. Ah! Ngh, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum-” you keen, hips bucking up wildly for more more more- And oh it’s like Choso’s favorite song, because his throbbing cock is twitching inside you so deliciously, thrusts sloppy and unfocused, thumb aching with how fast it was on your clit. 

“Me too, baby. Hngh- m-me too.” he gasps into your open mouth, movements only getting faster and faster and-

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Choso’s hips stuttering - so desperate, so filthy as he shoots thick, hot spurts of cum into your snug cunt. Fucking his seed deeper and deeper into you mindlessly. 

And he can’t stop - he won’t. But you absolutely love it. Because you’ve barely blinked the haze from your eyes before he’s pulling away ever-so-slightly, a hand pushing away the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Breaths ragged, voice hoarse. 

“Not enough, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sober thoughts

They say drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and oh how Sukuna wishes that wasn’t the case when he’s fucking you dumb. How he wishes he could stop the strained little grunts that escape him each time his heavy balls smack your ass. 

“Kuna- Ngh- s’too much, c-can’t anymore-”

How he wishes he wasn’t drunk off your cute lil’ whines, and that fucked-out expression on your face as he rams his cock into your pretty pussy. Plunging into your heavenly cunt again and again and- It was too fucking much for him. 

Because it makes him wish he didn’t lean down, whispering softly in your ear, “You can do it, angel. Hah- I I know you will. Hngh- That pretty cunt is made f’me, always taking me so good-”

Ah, you clench so obscenely around his thick cock, shivers running down your spine. Milking him so obscenely as his weeping tip hits your poor cervix over and over. 

“W-wha-?” you blink tearily at him, voice shot. Trying to grasp reality because usually, Sukuna would usually tell you to shut up and fucking take it like the good lil’ slut you are. And if you were in a better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed at the way he holds such power over you, just a few words of praise and you’re already turning into his personal plaything. 

He huffs out in frustration, leaning down to lick a long, lazy stripe up your cheek, gathering the big fat tears rolling down it on his tongue. And you can’t even think of bringing yourself to be disgusted, because this is Sukuna and he’s always so filthy and mean. 

Except right now, being mean is the last thing on his mind. Murmuring out a strained little “Don’t act so surprised. You know you always milk my cock so well.” drinking in your cute little whimpers. “Shit- like yer trynna suck the s-soul out of me. Never met someone so fucking perfect f’me-”

He thinks he could almost cum right here right now when he sees you snaking down a hand to play with your swollen clit. “But Kuna~” Such an adorable pout appearing on your face when he gently smacks that hand away. Sukuna just wants to kiss it off your swollen lips.

And he does - licking hotly at the seam of your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip while you keen into his. It’s messy - all teeth and spit and adoration. 

Because you might not see it with your eyes half-lidded from the ecstasy, but Sukuna is looking at you with such nauseating heart-eyes. Ones he’d vehemently deny later, of course. But for now he settles for groping a hand down your pretty body, one, long finger rubbing unhurried little circles on your throbbing, achy clit. 

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head.”

So different from his unforgiving cock. All push and pull as he fucks you like his sextoy, but kisses you like his God. 

“Ah! Jus’ like that, feels so f-fucking good-” you’re a teary, whimpering mess underneath him. 

“Mhm? Feels s’good, huh?” he groans gutturally. Letting you buck wildly underneath him because shit you look so pretty being all desperate and needy for him. “Squeezin’ me s’tight. Fucking heavenly you are, you’re gonna pay for it if I cum early, angel.”

Your eyes snap open at his delirious confession and the way he seems well and fully intent on breaking you - and talking you nicely through it. It was making your head spin, especially at the way Sukuna get more and more out of control, all sloppy movements and even sloppier words. Slurring out little praises while he stuffed your ravaged cunt faster. Deeper. Pure, carnal need where he usually toyed with you so cruelly. Closer and-

“Cum for me, angel.”

You think you cum at the first word out of his mouth, because you’re seeing stars behind your eyes before Sukuna even finishes the sentence. And he’s not far behind - giving you one, final harsh thrust before filling you up in thick ropes of cum. It gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy as he keeps fucking into you like some animal. Letting out little mutters of how fucking beautiful you were and how heavenly your cunt is and-

And, well, by the time he’s collapsing into your ready arms, Sukuna might not be so pussydrunk anymore. But by God it doesn’t stop the way he nuzzles your hair softly. 

Pulling your sweaty body close to his, so fucked-out and exhausted. So fucking debauched with the way his cum gushes out of you. Hot and sticky, seeping into the sheets and pooling in the nonexistent space between you two. 

So very, very his. 

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up!

Gojo Satoru doesn’t shut up - not even when he’s stuffing his cock into your pretty pussy, and especially not when he’s drunk off of the heavenly feeling. Off the sight of you - all swollen lips fallen into a soft oh!, eyes glassy and miles away, so debauched and pretty underneath him - he just has to let you know.

“Look at you. Fucking perfect. Gonna fuck you till I can’t anymore.” he murmurs wetly. “Gonna make it feel so good f’you. Gonna have y’milk my cock until there’s nothing to milk.”

And Gojo swears he isn’t pussydrunk - but the way he’s babbling into your tits says otherwise. Looking up at you through his long lashes with dazed, hooded eyes, words muffled around your tit but still he keeps running his mouth. 

“Hngh- S’fucking tight and hot around me.” he murmurs, hips snapping to meet yours, milking himself mindlessly on your snug cunt. So hard that it almost hurt at the sting of skin-on-skin. “God, could stay like this f-forever.”

He was getting so loud now. Mixing with the sloppy squelches from below.

“You could, too, huh? Drunk on my cock enough to? Y’look like it-”

That makes your cheeks heat up. “Satoru-” You scramble to hastily cover Gojo’s mouth, stopping that sweet sweet voice from saying the most filthy things. You can feel his smug little grin underneath your fingertips, and you almost know what’s coming- before he licks a long, amused stripe up your palm.

Snatching your hand back, you sigh - as best you could when your boyfriend was ramming his thick cock inside you - “Satoru! What did I say about-”

“But you make it so easy, sweetheart.” he whines, hands roaming all over your body. Gripping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach before resting at your swollen clit. Pooling your sweet juices on his fingertips, drawing featherlight circles around the nub like he was trying to convince you. “Don’t lie. Y’like this big mouth. Love it even.”

Unlike Gojo - it’s hard to get your words out when he’s bullying his cock into your dripping cunt. Ramming into you over and over-

“Admit it. Don’t you love it? Love hearing me talk fucking filthy to you like this?” His words were coming out fast now, mixing with your cute whines and the heady air of the room. Each one punctuated by a brutal, harsh into your dripping cunt. 

Fingers working magic on your sensitive clit while his cock ravages you below. And the great Gojo Satoru does not give a fuck about your hushed whispers about how your neighbours are home or how “this is the fifth time they’ve complained.”

Because his girl’s pretty lil’ cunt is fucking perfect and he needs you to know.

Gojo presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. Thrusts growing more and more careless. Losing his sanity with each stroke - with each word that comes out of his mouth. “I know you like it.” he groans, “I can see it in your eyes, n’ the way this slutty lil’ pussy squeezes me so fucking tight.”

Dragging - not pushing - you both closer to the edge. Frantic now, syllables slurring together and Gojo’s hips stuttering into yours. Drunk off of you and your cunt and the way he can’t stop talking and talking and-

“Yes,” your words were a barely audible whisper - but Gojo hears. Of course, he does. “I love it. Fucking love it, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he’ll never be able to stop. Not, that he’d ever want to.

Because Gojo keeps pumping the thick, hot spurts of cum oozing out of him into your sloppy pussy. And shit you look so pretty underneath him, his seed dribbling down your thighs, eyes fluttering shut as you cream around his cock. And, of course, he has to let you know - babbling about how cute you were milking his cock and how warm and wet.

And Gojo’s still running his mouth as he pulls out, over your disappointed little mewl. All the way down till he’s swiftly centered between your open legs. Breath fanning your cunt, a devilish grin curling his lips.

“Time to help you remember exactly how much you love this big mouth.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

~ 6k words

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“thought you’d never ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[screampied]

I feel like Sukuna eats pussy the best in jjk (besides Geto). Like he'd be FEASTING till you're crying and shaking

꒰১ warnings. fem! reader, ōral (f receiving), mild dacryphila, eating from the back, impact play, he has a forked tongue

whenever it came to pussy eating—sukuna ryōmen was just nasty,

with no shame whatsoever, he doesn’t care. all he really cares about is having you arched over the wooden leg of his throne, your ass all out and drinking out orgasm after orgasm out of you. he really knows no bounds— a starved man, he’d eat you out until there’s fat tears sticking against your naturally lengthy lashes. “o-oh my goddd,” you’d whimper out. not even seconds after, you’d just finish a release and he’s already delving his long tongue between your slick folds again. your taste makes him groan, he’s never had anything as sugary sweet as you. a sharp nail of his gingerly scrapes against the juncture of your curves as you arch forward. your mouth opens—pretty pink tongue unfurling as you’re just feeling the tip of his tongue wander to its hearts content. he’s messy, if it’s not dripping down his chin he doesn’t want it. you shudder, feeling him thrust his tongue in and out of your puffed cunt before he pries your thighs open further. you gasp, hearing him gather a nice amount of spit before it delivers right against your dripping entrance. “s-sukuna, you’re so nasty.”

“gotta be when your pussy’s this wet,” he huffs.

a thumb stroking down against your swollen slit. with a tongue skimming across his lips for an extra relishing taste, he rolls his tongue out all the way and you can even hear his throaty, ‘ah’ noises as he prepares to dive back in.

sukuna groans, feeling himself get hard just from pleasing you. with a rude spank, he speaks in a rough tone. “arch for me more. ‘m starved ‘n i need seconds.”

it’s not even long before the curse is nose deep. your pulsating folds were continuously being sucked and you already feel your tummy heaving. then texture of his tongue. the length, the forked structure of it all that repeatedly slurps everywhere inside of you makes your toes curl up. despite them curling, they were numb anyway so you felt practically nothing.

he’s snarling, fangs of his occasionally poking against your clit. sukuna chuckles as he feels your ass wriggle against his face, he brings a thumb towards your hood before he glides it across. “what a fuckin’ mess. jus’ can’t get enough, can ya?”

and with sukuna— he’s thorough.

and while you’re happily arched over for him, eyebrows bunched together into a cute furrow, he makes sure that his tongue licks every part of you. a wet, slippery trail from your pussy to your ass, even between the secluded inner crevices of your thighs. he’s greedy, he doesn’t like when you make an attempt to touch yourself. each time you try to play with your pretty cunt whilst he’s eating, he smacks your hand away, grousing a “don’t touch my girl.”

his girl— your pussy.

sukuna’s favorite thing to do would be to constantly spit on your folds, only to lap it up, then spit on it again,

bonus if he finishes eating you out, telling you to come here, then makes out with you so you can taste how much of a messy girl you were for him. he likes hearing you moan, the nibbling he creates against your slit has you sobbing profusely. with your own two hands, you feel against your mounds that were glued against your chest, rocking against his face as you feel yourself approaching the inevitable abyss of pleasure. a groan leaves his lips as your ass jerks against him, he’s gotta hold you still so he can savor this,

savor you..

with glistening reddened lips of his, sukuna briefly departs his mouth from your love palette and with crimson bloodshot eyes—his own lustrous saliva dribbles down between your slit, dragging a thumb to softly snake against your convulsing nub. your mouth stupidly dangles open that it’s almost comedic. you then feel a whimper die out your throat, rubbing your ass against his face, “kuna, ‘s good, right there pleasepleaseplease.” it’s only then when he snakes a hand between your thighs, prodding his fingers alongside your saturated pussy. the moment sukuna starts to maneuver tiny circles and shapes against your pussy, you were just about done for. the staticky friction from his palm going against your folds scratches such a lewd itch in your brain.

you’re going haywire—crazy for more of his touch. as years merely blinded you from how they were welling into your sockets, your voice becomes strained from your numerous whimpers. he sucks you so good, so much of your slick pours down his chin that it even starts to get into his kimono.

sukuna ryōmen was nasty,

but his tongue was even nastier.

it doesn’t miss a single spot, he’s all in the depths of anywhere and everywhere.

you chew your lip in salacious anticipation. unhurriedly, you rock back against his mouth as you feel his callused fingertips gripping against both parts of your ass, spreading it even further.

sukuna leisurely dips his tongue into you once more, it’s probably been the umpteenth time by now as he kisses against your clit. “mhm,” he’d hum to himself, your eyes were visibly rolling back. you saw nothing but darkness. as he’s bringing you closer and closer toward the edge. your nails grip against the arms of his throne, embedding into the hardened material before you whine, shimmery tubby tears forming above the outer corneas of your dilated pupils before you make a cute attempt at crawling away from his mouth but he drags you back.

“girl get the fuck back here. can’t have my meal runnin’ away now, huh.”

[bunnibombz]

Alpha! Simon who's scent is strong, like dark cherries and cinnamon, and makes your blood feel thick like syrup. Your own purring a distant hazy sound as you were desperately trying to spread that scent everywhere you could. You knew you would get into the shower later and it would all be gone but for now you would relish every bit of it.

Alpha! Simon who tries to be easy. Wants so badly for his fingers not to grip bruises into your hips as he pulls you back on his thick cock, your squeals and moans sending him closer to the edge as he splits you open, but he just can't help it. Can't help how your feet kicking out and the soft whine of his name leaving your lips sends him into a primal frenzy.

Alpha! Simon who flips you over onto your back with quick movement of his hands, his pretty brown eyes scanning your naked form as if committing it to memory, your plush lips parting on gasping breathes as your third orgasm left you reeling.

"So pretty" he murmured, his thumb moving to graze your bottom lip, a spine tingling groan blooming from his throat when you set your teeth against his flesh lightly. The want in his eyes could burn you alive, his free hand gripping the pillow behind your head. "The things I would do if you were mine".

"What kind of things?" You prompted, barely fighting back the haze of your heat, your cunt clenching around his cock still throbbing and buried deep inside of you.

"Put a pretty mark on your neck, to show everyone just how much I love you" he said, his voice low and rolling through your sensitive body like a wave, his hand at your lips moving down to grasp your throat, turning your head to press a hot and heavy kiss to the junction of your shoulder where the bond mark would go, "and put a pretty pup in your belly to show everyone just how much you're mine, mine only".

The thrust of his hips stole the air from your lungs, his cock twitching against your cervix as you gasped. Your hands coming up to grasp his biceps as he bent your knees up and over his shoulders, pinning you in a rough mating press.

"Want- want you- ahhh" you stammered, barely able to gather words as pleasure shot up your spine over and over.

"You want what, bunny?" He asked, his voice a rough growl as his arms tensed, hips moving a little harsher, "use your words".

"Y-your knot" you begged with a desperate sob, trying in vain to pull him down closer to bury your face into his neck, "I-I need". Words were useless at this point, the hormones from your heat making your brain feel cloudy and the burning pleasure between your legs not helping to clear the fog. With your scents burning together, it was almost intoxicating.

"Gonna cum for you, lovie" Simon groaned, his knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock, "be my good girl and take it all for me".

Spots were popping behind you eyes screwed shut, your toes curling as your cunt tightened around him, slick squirting put against your thighs and his abdomen as he pressed in, knot locking in place as he filled you with a growling moan, his teeth clenched tightly as if fighting not to sink his teeth in and take for his own. Both of you were out of breath and shaking when you collapsed back on the bed, his warm arms wrapping around your body and tugging you on top of him to ease the stretch of his knot.

"Easy now, just rest, we'll be here for a bit" Simon murmured, his calloused hand rubbing against your back, letting you adjust for comfort until you settled, your breathing slowing as you lay against him.

Alpha! Simon who keeps you securely in his arms as he drifts off with you, your hormones calming and your soft purring sending him into a deep sleep.

Price who can't help but smirk in amusement as Simon growled like a demon in his sleep when he opened the door to check on you. If there had been any doubt that Simon would take care of you, it was gone now.

[ahqkas]

Do you think you could a reverse of you "attractive things they do without realizing" with the bat boys?

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS YOU DO . . . that make them go crazy ! — part 1

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

simply attending gala with him

the gala was in full swing, the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling of crystal glasses weaving through the grand hall. bruce wayne stood at the center of it all, the undisputed star of the evening, yet his focus wasn’t on the crowd. it was on you.

you stood beside him, your hand lightly wrapped around his forearm, a subtle yet intimate gesture that spoke things without saying a word. the way your fingers rested there, so effortlessly claiming him as yours, sent a warmth spreading through his chest—a feeling that, for once, wasn’t from the weight of responsibility or the burden of his double life. it was softer, lighter. it was you.

bruce’s sharp eyes, trained to assess every detail in a room, couldn’t help but linger on you. the dress you wore was nothing short of perfection—not that it could have been anything else. he had ensured it. every stitch, every line, every fold of fabric had been crafted with you in mind. he had selected the finest material, rich and smooth beneath the touch, ensuring it draped over your figure with the kind of elegance that turned heads the moment you stepped into a room.

the deep hue of the gown complemented his suit nicely, catching the light in subtle ways, as though it, too, was vying for his attention. the neckline framed your collarbones delicately, and the way the fabric hugged your form made it impossible for his mind not to wander to how well he knew every curve beneath. the gentle train swirled around your heels like liquid, moving with you in an almost hypnotic rhythm, every step making his heart beat just a little faster.

bruce had commissioned it specifically for you, worked with the designer himself to ensure it would fit you like a second skin—tailored to highlight everything he found most captivating about you. it wasn’t just vanity, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish the way every person in the room couldn’t help but notice you. no, it was deeper than that. dressing you in the finest fabrics, wrapping you in elegance, was his way of saying what words often couldn’t: you’re extraordinary, and the world should know it.

to you, he wasn’t just bruce wayne, gotham’s elusive billionaire. he wasn’t the brooding vigilante who prowled the night. he was just . . . bruce. and in that moment, he felt more real, more whole, than he had in years.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at you, and his lips tugged into the faintest of smiles—a rare expression, softer than most would ever see. the subtle scent of your perfume reached him as you leaned closer to whisper something, your voice a low melody against the backdrop of the room. he didn’t even catch the words; he was too lost in the curve of your smile, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the warmth of your touch radiating through the fabric of his suit.

his thoughts betrayed him, wandering ahead to a quieter moment later, when the gala was over, and it was just the two of you again. but for now, he stood tall, the perfect host, his hand moving to cover yours on his arm. his thumb brushed against your knuckles, a silent gesture of affection and gratitude. he didn’t say it aloud—he didn’t need to—but he was thinking it with every fiber of his being: you’re the most beautiful thing in this room, and you don’t even know it.

seeing you work at his office

bruce leaned back in his leather chair, the polished desk between you serving as the only barrier to his unraveling thoughts. you stood on the other side, flipping through a file with the kind of focus that made his chest tighten, utterly oblivious to the effect you were having on him. the pencil skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that felt almost sinful, every line and contour designed to torment him. the fabric clung just right, emphasizing the curve of your waist and the sway of your body each time you shifted. and then there was the blouse—white, crisp, and perfectly fitted, the faintest hint of skin peeking where the buttons strained against your figure. it was driving him to the edge.

the sharp click of your heels echoed softly as you moved around the room, your voice calm and professional as you recounted details of a recent meeting, flipping a page in the file without missing a beat. but bruce wasn’t listening. not really. his gaze followed the way your fingers smoothed the papers, delicate but deliberate, and his mind betrayed him. those same hands . . . what would they feel like tangled in his hair, tugging him closer? or splayed against his chest, nails dragging lightly as he pressed you against the wall?

he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening as he tried to force himself back to the present. but it was impossible. the way the soft material of your blouse tucked into that pencil skirt left just enough to the imagination while teasing at everything he wanted to do to you. his mind raced ahead, envisioning the fabric bunched around your hips, your voice losing its composed edge as he silenced every word with his lips

you glanced up at him suddenly, your eyes catching his, and for a moment, his composure faltered. his sharp blue gaze was darker now, focused entirely on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. his tongue darted across his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“are you almost finished?”

“just a few more minutes.”

his thoughts raced ahead, imagining the way your name would sound falling from his lips, low and rough, as he pulled you into his lap. how your soft gasps would fill the room, mingling with the shuffle of papers and the creak of leather as his control finally slipped. bruce’s mind was already plotting, already deciding just how many minutes he’d let you finish your work before he gave in.

DICK GRAYSON

the quiet hum of the city filtered through the slightly cracked window, the distant sounds of gotham settling into the night. dick sat cross-legged on the couch, his hair still damp from a quick shower after patrol, wearing a loose gray shirt and sweatpants. you were tucked into the corner of the couch, legs pulled up to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, your chin resting on your knees. there was something so effortlessly comfortable about the way you curled into yourself, the soft glow of the lamp painting your features in warm hues.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger, caught by the way the corners of your lips curved into a gentle smile as you listened to him recount something ridiculous wally had said earlier. it wasn’t just your smile, though it always had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs—it was the way your gaze stayed fixed on him, warm and attentive, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.

“are you even listening?” he teased, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he tilted his head to catch your gaze more fully.

you laughed softly, a sound that melted into the quiet of the room like it belonged there. “i am,” you insisted, shifting slightly to prop your chin higher on your knees, the movement drawing his attention to the curve of your bare shoulders beneath the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing—his sweatshirt, he realized with a pang of fondness.

“good,” he said, his voice softer now, his lips curving into an easy smile. but he didn’t pick up where he left off. instead, he found himself studying the little things: the way your hair framed your face, the way your eyes glimmered with quiet amusement, the small, almost unconscious sway of your head as you rested against your knees.

“don’t stop,” you murmured, your smile widening.

dick chuckled, shaking his head. “i wasn’t sure if my story could compete with . . . well, you,” he said, his tone light but tinged with the kind of sincerity that always made your chest tighten.

“flatterer,” you teased, but the way your cheeks warmed didn’t escape him.

when you arch your back in a chair

he had only meant to grab a drink and check in with you, but the second he entered the room and saw you sitting at the table, all coherent thought vanished. he froze in place, his gaze drawn to you like a moth to a flame. you were leaning forward in your chair, your elbows braced on the table and your back arched just slightly as you studied whatever had your focus. it was innocent—completely unintentional—but to him, it was anything but.

the way your shirt clung to your frame as you bent forward made his mouth go dry, the curve of your back teasing him in ways that had his imagination running wild. his eyes lingered on the dip of your waist, the way the soft fabric stretched just enough over your hips, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering further—thinking about how easy it would be to step behind you, trail his hands down that arch, and pull you closer.

dick swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, but it was hopeless. his gaze snapped back to you as if on instinct, and this time, it wasn’t just the curve of your back that had his attention. it was the way your body moved, every subtle shift of your weight making his thoughts spiral deeper. he could almost feel the press of your skin against his palms, the heat of you beneath his hands as he tipped you just slightly further forward . . .

jesus, get it together, grayson, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair and trying to clear his head. but the damage was done, and now every inch of him was on edge, his pulse thrumming in his ears. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly you drove him crazy—how just existing could send his thoughts careening into territory that made him shift uncomfortably in place.

you glanced up suddenly, breaking him out of his haze. “hey, you good?” you asked, your brows furrowing slightly in concern.

the sound of your voice jolted him back to reality, though his heart was still racing. “fine,” he managed, his voice just a little rougher than usual. he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool despite the heat simmering beneath his skin.

but you weren’t convinced. there was a hint of amusement in your eyes as you leaned back slightly in your chair, giving him that knowing smile that always made his knees weak. “you sure?”

dick’s jaw clenched as you shifted again, his gaze flickering down to the curve of your waist before he caught himself. stop it. stop it right now. but then you tilted your head, and that damn teasing glint in your eyes told him you knew exactly what you were doing.

he took a step forward, bracing a hand on the table as he leaned down, his face suddenly inches from yours. his voice was low, rough, almost a growl. “you’re making it really hard to concentrate, you know that?”

JASON TODD

adjusting your skirt

jason had been leaning against the doorway, half distracted by his own thoughts, when the sight of you adjusting your skirt snapped his attention to full focus. you were standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the waistband and wiggling it higher on your hips, a casual, innocent motion meant to get the fit just right. but to him, it was anything but casual. his eyes locked on you, darkening as he watched the way the fabric shifted, sliding up the curve of your thighs with each subtle movement.

jesus christ, he thought, jaw tightening as he tried to tear his gaze away. he failed. the small adjustment—the roll of your hips, the way your hands smoothed the material over your figure—felt like it was designed to torment him. he muttered a quiet curse under his breath, barely audible but enough to let his frustration escape.

that little motion shouldn’t have had this kind of hold over him, but it did. the way you moved, so natural and effortless, made his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. his fingers twitched at his sides as he imagined stepping behind you, sliding his hands over yours to help—not that you needed it, but damn if he wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.

you turned slightly and caught his reflection in the mirror, green eyes shooting up to meet yours as if he hadn’t been blatantly staring. “everything okay, jay?”

jason cleared his throat. “yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than usual, betraying him. he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavier into the doorway, his tongue darting across his bottom lip as his gaze flicked down again. “just . . . keep doing what you’re doing.”

you have him a look—equal parts amused and curious—but went back to adjusting the skirt, smoothing it out once more. jason bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay put instead of crossing the room, grabbing your hips, and showing you exactly what that little movement of yours did to him.

this woman’s gonna be the death of me, he thought, his pulse hammering as he pushed off the doorway, muttering another curse under his breath. he needed to walk away before he did something reckless—something that would guarantee you wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon.

when you rant to him

jason leaned back on the couch, arms draped lazily over the backrest, but his focus was anything but casual. his eyes were locked on you as you paced the room, hands gesturing wildly while you went off on a rant about something that had you fired up. he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started—it didn’t matter. what mattered was the light in your eyes, the way your whole face animated with every word, and the fire in your voice as you got lost in your thoughts.

there was something magnetic about the way you threw yourself into it, like the world disappeared except for the thing you were so passionate about. it didn’t even matter if he understood half of what you were saying—though he was trying, really, he was—but he couldn’t look away from you long enough to focus on the details. he was too caught up in the way your brows furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, or the way your lips curved when you hit on a point you knew was good.

and that voice. it was captivating, filled with conviction and energy, a side of you that came alive when you cared about something. jason’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched you, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

every now and then, you’d glance at him to make sure he was keeping up, and he’d give a small nod, biting back the urge to say something dumb like, i’m not paying attention to your words, but i’m hanging on every second of you. instead, he’d murmur a quiet “yeah,” or “makes sense,” just to keep you talking.

but, damn, the way your whole body moved when you were this invested—it sent his mind places. there was a certain confidence in it, an unintentional sway in your steps as you walked back and forth, your gestures strong but graceful. it drove him crazy in the best way, made him want to grab you mid-rant, pull you onto his lap, and kiss you senseless just to see if that fire would transfer to him.

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