#COL

[atlantes96]

Christian Rojas G. 🇨🇴

37 ✅ 21.12.24

Christian Rojas G. 🇨🇴

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[coolgenie]

Century of Love Ep 6

[lianaloverr]

Happy Birthday Sam!!!!

Such a beautiful person, who’s been here for 28 years! I’m wishing you a happy happy birthday and i hope that you get to cherish many many more. Sam and Colby lift up my life so much you have no idea, i love you to pieces. Happy Birthday Sam!🎂🎉

(i love this song and i feel like it perfectly describes yk back at the trap house days because everything was so carefree back then)

[corvidaaes]

[bllemons]

Never forget Century of Love is a LAKORN FIRST and BL second! Like tHe DRAMA! the long shots of everyone's shocked expressions. The melodramatic crying scenes. The punch to the face. AND A SLAP!! SCANDALLL!! Ep 7 has it all lol

Its giving telenovela!!

[rurilamb]

Cute gif of Ruri

Source

[shitty-tmagp-aus]

Au where Chester and Norris have a lovely computer wedding with all the OIAR members invited and Hatsune miku officiating. Augustus wasn’t invited

Colin is the flower girl

[sturnisposts]

anyone else go see sam and colby’s movie??

if not i’d recommend it

it was AMAZIN!!

[wendalin]

[trizanandgozan]

<Yum!>

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ don't let go, okay? | gojo satoru

wc: 2.1k

summary: it has to be some sort of fate that you happen to be stuck with gojo on valentine's day.

contains: f!reader, slowburn, fluff, reader and gojo are 21, reader and gojo are ‘guardians’ to megumi and tsumiki but they are not romantically together, japanese valentine’s chocolate tradition, reader’s cursed technique (vaguely), kind of pining

a/n: in the 'conversations on love' universe but takes place before the main series (would be nice to read but not necessary to understand this). theme song for this is what love is by zimmer90.

part of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within 'conversations on love'. also included in how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

The night is crisp when you step into it, the clean cut of a cool breeze tickling your cheek; it sweeps past you in the edge of winter and spring. 

You walk along the street. 

A sort of faded, vintage hue paints Shimokitazawa, wooden boards with worn down signages holding names of antique shops in every corner. The night feels older here, retro lights tinging bars and pubs more maturely than those nearby in Shibuya. At the street across, the sign of a cafe is flipped the other way to formally open the speakeasy it transforms into. 

You’ve only been here twice before: once with Nanami and Utahime years ago, while searching for old vinyl records the three of you had gotten into, and another with Tsumiki, some time last month because she’d mentioned wanting to check the thrift shops. 

Who would have thought you’d be back so soon? With—

“Satoru,” you call out, half-giggling, “why are you sniffing?” 

Gojo trails just a few inches behind you, body bent over closely to catch a whiff but not near enough to touch. Each inhale he takes is punctuated with the sound of whizzing air, condensing to fit through his nostrils. 

“You smell like chocolate.”

Out of all the plans you’d anticipated on Valentine’s Day, being roped into a mission with Gojo at the last minute was definitely not one of them. 

You shake your head knowingly, the corners of your lips curling; Gojo can smell sweets miles away, you could honestly mistake it for his cursed technique. 

He pulls back, falling into step with you. 

“Tsumiki asked me to help make some earlier.” 

Heavy jazz floats through the air as you pass by a bar entrance, the music muffling as the doors fall shut a few seconds later. Your boots clack against the pavement. 

“Oh?” Gojo perks up, voice turning an all-too-familiar hint of nosy as he teases, “What kind?” 

You snort as you dig your hands further into your pockets. For someone who claims to be all-seeing and all-knowing, Gojo is a lot more inquisitive than he seems; his nonchalance is but an added security much like his infinity is, dissipating only in company he’s comfortable sharing that side of him with. 

It’s been a while since Gojo’s been ‘home’ in the past week, so you don’t blame him for wondering. 

“Tomo mostly,” your gaze shifts to the side, waiting for his reaction, “though I did notice her sneaking a few honmei ones when I wasn’t looking.” 

There’s a slight stagger to his step as his shoulders tense up, his sunglasses shifting higher as his ears push back. You bite down your laugh. 

For as clueless as both you and Gojo are when it comes to being guardians to Megumi and Tsumiki, you think Gojo’s grown an odd mix of semi-brotherly-kind of-fatherly-mostly-guardianly protectiveness over the both of them—to Tsumiki especially. You can tell because his reminders to Megumi are always sealed with some form of ensuring Tsumiki makes it home safely. 

‘Home’, which is where the kids stay, but it’s neither yours nor his—just a place nearby that keeps them protected and comfortable. You’re with them most days, Gojo staying when he can, but with the higher-ups assigning him on missions left and right, there’s hardly any time for him to drop by. Hell, you haven’t seen much of him either, besides the rare instances of bumping into him along the halls of Jujutsu Tech, a whine almost always drawn from his throat. 

You see his curiosity as an effort to check in.

He only hums, hollower than his usual responses. The sound of his footsteps fill the gaps of what would typically be a seamless back-and-forth with you; you try not to comment on it. 

Indinstinct chatter brings the street to life, smooth beats cascading warmth against the chilly breeze. Despite the noise, Gojo’s silence feels unsettling—as if there are words forming at the tip of his tongue, withheld for reasons you can’t quite get a read on just yet. 

So, you wait, learning more and more that he usually comes around when—

“Did you?” 

The question is half-murmured, part of it lost to the night. 

Did you what? Notice Tsumiki?

“Hm?” you tilt your head towards him, tucking strands of hair behind your ear in an attempt to hear him better. 

He doesn’t answer. 

You stop walking. 

“Did I what?” you adjust your coat before turning towards him, catching the slightest of his gaze before he looks away quickly.

(“Did you make honmei chocolate?” he means.) 

Still, no answer. 

The tips of Gojo’s ears dust pink, and you try not to comment on that too.

His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, slipping free before his Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing. 

“Wanna see something cool?” he changes the subject, removing his sunglasses and turning back to you as if none of it happened. As if he didn’t ask you anything, as if you didn’t ask what he meant—as if you didn’t just catch him at the tail end of a wistful stare. 

The shift in his tone happens so suddenly, it feels disjointed. Unnatural. But you’ve gotten used to moments like this from knowing him for so long; Gojo always says less of what he truly means. 

You focus on his face, yellow and red retro lights dancing on clear blue. He looks almost freakish this way, otherworldly—a crazed look you’ve gotten familiar with. His hands are stuffed inside his pockets when he stops, gangly long legs outstretched by the shadow beneath him. 

There’s really no time to be doing this right now, the both of you just 10 minutes away from the mission’s location—an abandoned building housing a special grade curse that lures people in with fabricated memories. Around you, the neighborhood’s nightlife has dwindled, your walk thus far having brought you farther from the heart of the place and closer to somewhere quieter, more secluded. 

Gojo looks too excited, eyes beaming wonder and mischief along with something else you can’t quite figure out yet. You purse your lips in thought. 

“C’mon, it’ll be quick.” he smirks, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he shrugs, “I’ve finally perfected it.”

A beat—skipped before your heart races. 

You wonder if he knows, if he’s using this to his advantage, because—

—when have you ever denied him when he looks at you this way? 

The higher-ups should have known better than to pair you together for a mission. Your instructions were merely ‘to assist’, but you hardly believe it considering Gojo almost always handles these things on his own. It’s more babysitting, you know, to keep the damages of his technique to a minimum. 

They shouldn’t have called on you, of all people—you’re on Gojo’s side. Always. 

A smile threatens to escape your lips, warmth spreading within your cheeks; you roll your eyes jokingly, stifling a giggle before relenting.

“Fine.” 

He guides you forward, chest bumping against your shoulder blade as he picks up pace. It’s a clear road ahead of you, the streets emptying out to more greenery; your senses are filled with the smell of the earth mixed in with the faint cotton of Gojo’s cologne. 

This is bad for your feelings. 

(Being this close to you feels like the ticklish drag of fingernails just right before it creates indents in his chest.) 

There’s something brewing between you and Gojo, neither of you have just addressed it yet. He pulls away when the moment is too close but still looks for you first after missions, an almost automatic question to either Shoko or Ijichi about your whereabouts.

You’ve been catching his stares too, almost always at the split-second before he turns away—a reaction on impulse. The silence between you feels fuller lately, as if there are words he wants to say but is choosing to withhold. 

When the space is vacant enough, he steps a few inches to your right, left hand stuffed inside his pocket as he shakes his arm hesitantly, almost awkwardly. 

“You have to hold on to me,” he instructs you. 

Your eyes widen, equally surprised and shy as you slowly take your hand out of your coat and slip it into the empty space, resting it on the crook of his elbow. Gojo freezes very slightly. 

He shakes it off just as quickly, “You might be sensitive to my domain because of your technique, so stay close just to be safe.” 

Then, his head tilts towards you, a little closer than you’re both used to. This near, his eyes hold a perfect morning sky, eyelashes hanging like wispy clouds on a clear day. 

Your gazes meet and you blink twice, goosebumps littering your skin. 

“Don’t let go, okay?”

Another beat—followed by another, and another, the sound of it growing louder. 

You almost miss the way he says it gentler than normal, how sincere it feels with his breath tickling your cheek. 

“Okay,” your fingers curl around his arm tighter. 

He lifts his other hand up, crossing his fingers as he recites the mantra to his domain. In an instant, the greenery around you disappears, stark white taking its place. 

“What do you think?” Gojo asks almost immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. Your fingers stay curled onto the crook of his elbow, sandwiched between his forearm and bicep; his other hand rests a few centimeters away from yours, nearly touching. 

You scan the space, examining its vastness. Minimalist. A blank sheet—

“It’s…” you try to find the right words, “... empty?” 

He gasps exaggeratedly, “Hey!” then pouts in fake offense, “I made it porcelain white at least. This isn’t pure white you know.” 

You eye him from the side.

He chuckles, breaking his act, “You should be honored.”

A pause—his tone shifting to something softer, more vulnerable. 

“You’re the first person I’m bringing in here.” 

His admission is unexpected, but it feels relevant, makes you feel like it, too. 

You’re touched, knowing how secretive he’s been on perfecting his domain since Toji and Geto; he only ever tells you and Ijichi about it. No one ever pressured him into achieving his perfect domain, but he feels like his existence necessitates it. 

“It’s clean,” you finally say, playing along, “I like it.” 

He eyes you this time, dimples deepening the more he attempts to poorly push down his smile. 

“Shame I can’t really do much with it, would have wanted to spice up the interiors a bit.” 

You snort, knowing full well that Gojo’s very much the type to pick one piece of furniture and anchor the entire place’s aesthetic off of that. 

“Someday,” you catch his eyes again. 

(It echoes in his ears, the quickening thump of his heartbeat—pink noise that can’t possibly be a product of your technique. 

In the silence of his domain, all he hears is that sound and you.) 

He hums before looking back to the empty space, “Acoustics would be good by then, we can try your technique in here.” 

You nod, the corners of your lips curling; his pinky presses against yours so faintly you wonder if you just imagined it—if he had meant it or not. 

. 

The special grade is dealt with within a quarter of the time it took you to travel to here, but Gojo seems to bear the consequences with another one of his migraines—a mixture of fatigue from activating his domain earlier along with sensitivity from the increased bustle in Shimokitazawa’s night life as you exit the neighborhood. 

You make a mental note to get him something that covers his eyes a little bit more than those circle frames he uses—an imbued blindfold maybe? You’ll have to think about it some more. 

(When you both get ‘home’, you set up the couch, offering him the spare bedroom so he can sleep off the headache. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen for a glass of water when he catches a glimpse of it—a fully decorated box of honmei chocolate partially hidden at the corner of the counter. 

The card has half of his name written in your handwriting.

You don’t end up giving it, but he does receive some chocolates from you, still. It’s a belated gift the next day, along with the ones you gift to Shoko, Yaga, and Ijichi—a tradition you’ve kept up since you were 16. 

But, his box has an extra piece, and you even tailored each one to all his favorite flavors: sakura, strawberry, zunda, and anko; his card is the same one you left half-written, just now fully spelling ‘Satoru’. 

So, he thinks his might be a bit more special, and he’s realizing that he likes it that way—he might prefer it much more, actually.)

a/n: haven't written col in a while but this is the official launch of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within the 'conversations of love' universe! there are lots of details that connect to some of the col works but this happens before all of the ones released so far (so you don't need to read the main series to understand this, but it would add to the full experience if you do!).

thank you notes: @augustinewrites love u my valentine, this fic wouldn't exist without you 🥹 + @stellamancer col couple is here!! with chocolates!! thank you for going over this for the first read 🥹 ily niku + @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat my cheerleaders!! thank you for the support always 🥹

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[coolgenie]

Century of Love Ep 6

[pichurage]

💢🔥death kitty reunites with family after plan backfires💢🔥

[mxshmxsh]

You know that one dream team episode when Kai got wind powers? Just imagine how panicked the ninja actually were when they realized that 😭😭😭

[bllemons]

San x Wee (Smut)

Word Count: idk I wrote this in tumblr lol

Inspired by this scene^^^. A much needed self indulgent smut of San giving in to temptation and fucking the daylights out of a sexy fox demon Wee.

Edit** I fixed some mistakes as I wrote this half asleep and definitely not horny...

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Master, you should stop reciting the sutras", a voice behind him whispered seductively.

San could feel the air stir around him. The sultry tone in the fox demon's voice sent shivers down his spine. Sharp claws traced along the edge of his shoulder, pressing into his collarbone. He would be lying if he said he didn't like the sensation. No. This isn't right. San continued reciting, not wanting to give in to the nine tailed fox.

"If you want to go to paradise, there's a shortcut."

Strong arms wrapped around him, hands coming to trace over his in his praying postition. San tensed at the feeling of the fox's small but strong body pressing closer to his. His back was on fire from the heat between them. A strong alluring scent teased his nose, overpowering the candles and incense that once filled the room. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting the owner of this scent. No. Stop thinking such perverted thoughts. San reminded himself. The only paradise you'll take me to is hell.

Relief flooded over San as the presence behind him vanished. He continued to chant, hoping his silent prayer for relief had been answered. That relief soon vanished as he felt the soft touch of the demon's lips lightly grace his praying hands. His breath almost halted, but he powered through. The constant nudging of a nose and hot breaths around his hands were hard to ignore.

"Let's see if you can endure this."

San's heart dropped at those words. Endure? I've been enduring this whlle time. He only prayed harder when he felt the fox move closer to his face. The hot breaths left goosebumps along his neck. His cheek tickled at the feeling of a pointed nose and soft lips rubbing against it.

San could feel his resolve slipping. His hands were sweating and pale at how tightly he was holding them together. His heartbeat almost oiunded out of his chest at the close proximity between him and his forbidden desire. His skin was set ablaze when the fox's hand came to rest back on his shoulder. The pants he was wearing were more than uncomfortable at this point. It wasn’t until a kiss landed on his lips that he opened his eyes for the first time. He had stopped reciting the sutras.

"It's over, you've lost"

There was a heavy silence in the room as San took in the sight in front of him. The beautiful brown eyes shined with mischief and desire. The makeup only added to its effect. The curling of the demon's plump lips into a seductive smirk had him wanting to wipe it off. His eyes trailed from the high ponytail all the way down the long strands. His hands ached to wrap themselves around the pullable hair.

The bright red robes the demon had on enticed him with their prudence. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off and touch the lithe body he knew was hiding underneath. The restraint he had until now vanished as he pulled the fox in for a hungry kiss. Their wet tongues danced a sensual tango, the sweet taste pulling a groan from San.

His hands rushed to rip off the heavy robes from the fox demon, leaving him bare. San let his hands trace over the smooth skin of his shoulders and down his chest. The fox's muscles twitched at the touch as he trailed lower towards his perked nipples. His fingers twirled light circles around the buds before pinching them harshly in a twisting roll.

A small gasp followed by a whine leaves the cute fox from the pain, causing San to twitch in his pants. He needed relief now. All the teasing from earlier left him impatient as he hurriedly pulls the minx onto his lap and over his buldge. He continues to trail kisses down the fox's neck, sucking and biting into the skin. The strong scent drove him insane, compelling his attack. The needy whines were music to his ears as he trailed his hands around to the fox's back towards his soft but firm ass.

San let's his fingers play in the fur at the base of the fox's nine tails before wrapping his hands hand around and giving it a soft tug. To his surprise, a needy gasp graced his ears, followed by small ruts onto his aching buldge. A small groan left him from the sudden movement. His hand couldn't move quickly enough to free himself from the constraint of his pants. The other found itself toying the fox demon's rim before slipping a finger inside the wet hole.

The wetness surprised him and spurred another twitch of his dick. He slips another finger in to slowly stretch the fox out, thrusting at a steady pace. The needy whines turned into small moans have him pulling back to take in the fox demon's beautiful features. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted back, lips parted. His neck was covered in bright red patches that wonderfully decorated his skin. His chest moved quickly with short breaths as he fucked himself back on San's fingers.

"Please, San, I need you inside me." The needy fox pleaded.

The demon opened his eyes, making eye contact with San to plead his case. San could only stare into the deep irises, seemingly compelled into a trance. A moment passes before the fox takes matters into his own hands, removing himself from the slick fingers and positioning himself over San's awaiting cock.

He coats his fingers in his juices before grasping San's hard on in his hand, giving him a few good strokes. San is pulled out of his daze with a groan leaving his lips. He could only watch as the fox demon lifted himself up and sank onto his aching shaft. The relief he had been waiting for knocked him back onto the mat.

The small fox took over, riding San with his hands pressedintohis chest for support. San loved the way the sharp claws dug into his skin. He loved even more the pleased expression that crossed the fox's face and the sounds that were leaving his plump lips. He let his hands trail up the fox's back and grip the long hair that was swaying behind him. His fingers couldn't resist the harsh rug they gave.

The demon's eyes opened once more and stared into San's at the action. His eyes seemed to almost glow as he held eye contact. San took this opportunity to use his other hand and guide his hips, meeting his bounces with deep thrusts of his own. He looks so good like this. The fucked out expression on the demon's face only spurred him to thrust faster. Sounds of moans and skin slapping filled the once quiet room

San makes a few more thrusts before moving to change their position. His hand never left its grip in the demon's long hair, opting to use it to maneuver him into an arched position. He takes his place behind the fox, teasing his rim slowly with the tip of his cock. The whines leaving the fox's lips bring a smirk to his face as he delights in the teasing. San's grip in his hair keeps the needy fox pinned to the mat despite the wiggling of his hips.

"Let's see if you can endure this." San echoes his words from earlier.

This pulled a deep groan from the fox as he realized his teasing had come back to bite him in the ass. He continues to whine for a bit, struggling beneath San's arm. San admired the tensing of the strong back muscles of the demon under his grip. His hips rolled into him again, pulling another plea from the needy fox.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. Please.. I need to feel you.. Please San-"

The begging is cut short by a long, drawn-out moan from the fox demon. San couldn't help but groan with him as he buried himself to the base inside his slick heat. He takes a moment to adjust before he starts to move his hips. His pace is slow at first until he finds a steady rhythm. The soft cheeks clapping back on him coaxed him to deliver a light slap to the soft skin.

San groaned at the feeling of the needy fox tightening around him, causing him to buck his hips faster. The moans grew louder as he pounded the fox into the mat. The teasing from earlier and the needy sounds of pleasure drove him to chase his own high. The wetness around him only aided in building his pleasure.

"Please, San," the fox pleaded again in an airy whine.

The hand in the fox's hair yanked harshly to pull him up until his ear was near San's lips. The fast bucking had slowed to a more sensual roll of San's hips. The lips at the demon's ear pulled it into a light suck, giving it a gentle tug with his teeth. The fox moaned at the feeling on his sensitive ear. San let's his ear go, staying near to whisper in it.

"Is this what you wanted, you sneaky little fox?"

"Yes.." the fox lets out in a blissful sigh.

"You just had to interrupt me while I was chanting, hm?"

San keeps grinding into the fox while making sure to give him long and deep strokes. He wraps his free hand around to grab the fox's neglected cock. The tip had become a leaky mess as precum dripped down onto the mat. He uses this to coat his hand before giving him a few strokes. San matched the strokes of his hips to the strokes of his hand. A deep groan leaves him when he could feel the fox's hole tighten around him as his cock twitched in his hand.

"Please.." The fox whines, grinding his hips to meet San's.

"Please, what?" San asked, keeping his torturous pace.

"Please let me cum.."

He looked back at San, trying to use his eyes to beg. His clawed hand reached back to pull San into a heated kiss. The kiss is interrupted by the yanking in his hair and the sudden snapping of San's hips. The moan catches itself in his throat as he watches San's concentrated gaze. The fast pace has both of them groaning with heavy breaths, the need to cum overtaking them.

San's fast pace and rampant stroking drove the fox demon mad with pleasure as pleas and airy moans left his lips haphazardly. The claws digging into the back of his neck and arm pushed him to thrust faster. The pleasure mixed with pain had him seeing stars. The fox's moans pulled moans out of him as he chased both of their highs. Sounds of slapping skin and wild moans bouncing off of the quiet walls.

One hard squeeze around the fox's swollen cock, combined with a few last powerful thrusts sends them both over the edge. San releases his potent up frustration inside the fox demon while cum shoots out from the fox's cock and onto San's fingers and the mat where he once was chanting. They both stayed there, chests heaving trying to catch their breaths.

"P'San?"

The sudden call of his name snaps San out of his daydream. His eyes open to find Wee staring in front of him with a smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He follows his eyes down to his prominent buldge. Fuck, not again... "It's over. You've lost." The words repeat in his head as he stares at the temping boy in front of him.