#Damn that wasn’t even subtle

[choerypetal]

Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho: 

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos: 

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s—” 

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi: 

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho: 

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun: 

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

[ahqkas]

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS THEY DO . . . without realizing

BRUCE WAYNE

rolling his sleeves

bruce wayne sat at his desk, eyes scanning the papers in front of him with a focus that bordered on obsessive. his brow furrowed slightly as he sifted through the reports, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. with a sigh, he leaned back in the chair, his broad shoulders rolling as he stretched, the fabric of his shirt straining just enough to hint at the muscle beneath.

he reached down to his cuffs, fingers moving with practiced ease as he undid the buttons. the action was simple, but there was an undeniable smoothness to it. slowly, he pushed the sleeves up, the fabric tugging against the defined muscles of his forearms as they flexed with the motion. the shirt rode up slightly, revealing the veins beneath.

once the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he flexed his fingers briefly, feeling the weight of the day settle into his body. there was no rush, no hurry. bruce wayne wasn’t just a man who wore suits—he was a man who controlled the world around him.

looking down and leaning in to hear you better

he stood tall, his imposing presence filling the space as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the difference in height between you made the moment feel all the more intimate, as though the world around you had faded into the background. his broad shoulders, strong and steady, seemed to fill the room with the weight of his silent power. every inch of him radiated control, and yet, there was something almost magnetic about the way he was focused on you now, narrowing the gap between you.

he tilted his head just a little, his gaze softening yet still intense, before his lips parted slightly. with a quiet, almost imperceptible shift in his posture, he leaned closer, his height forcing you to tilt your head back just to meet his eyes.

“sorry, what were you saying?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, the words lingering in the air between you. there was no rush in his movement, no hint of impatience—just the steady presence of a man who knew the effect he had, who made every action feel deliberate, calculated.

DICK GRAYSON

stretching

dick grayson towered in the middle of your bedroom, a small stretch escaping him after a long day of training and patrol. with a soft grunt, he raised his arms high above his head, his back arching slightly as his muscles flexed in the motion. the action was simple, but the way his body moved with effortless grace caught the light in just the right way, accentuating the sleek, toned lines of his chest and abdomen.

as he reached upwards, the hem of his shirt lifted slightly, revealing the faint line of his happy trail—dark and subtle beneath the fabric. his abs tightened with the stretch, his posture perfect and confident, yet so natural.

when his arms finally lowered, he relaxed, a small, satisfied smile curling on his lips, unaware of the effect the simple stretch had on your wandering gaze.

running a hand through his hair

he leaned back against the post of your bed, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath after another long night of patrol. he was tired, but not exhausted—just enough to feel the strain of the evening settling into his muscles. his hand moved instinctively to his hair, running through it with a relaxed sigh. the motion was effortless, but there was something undeniably attractive about it. his fingers tangled in the dark strands, pushing them back, only to leave them even more tousled than before.

his hair, usually neatly styled, now fell in messy waves, a little wild and chaotic—much like dick himself. as he scratched the back of his head, his tousled look gave off a carefree vibe, as if he didn’t have a care in the world despite the weight of his responsibilities. the slight rumple only added to the charm.

his lips quirked into a soft, knowing smile as he caught the look in your eyes, momentarily lost in them—so damn predictable. he had you right where he wanted you.

JASON TODD

leaning against a doorway

jason todd stood in the doorway, his posture relaxed yet undeniably intimidating. his arms were crossed over his chest, biceps flexing slightly with the movement, a stance that spoke of quiet confidence and a hint of defiance. his shoulders were broad, his body leaning casually against the doorframe, but there was an edge to him—something hard and unyielding beneath the surface. the way his weight shifted ever so slightly to one side gave him an almost effortless air, as if the world had to adjust to him, not the other way around.

his dark eyes scanned the room, taking in everything with a sharp focus, though he didn’t seem to be in a rush to move or speak. the leather jacket he adorned hung from his frame, the subtle creases and folds of the material giving it an air of worn-in familiarity, like it had seen too much for too long. but his gaze—intense, guarded—never left your figure, as if he was watching for something just out of reach, something that only he could sense.

the way jason held himself in the doorway, arms crossed with a hint of tension in his posture, felt like a silent challenge for most, though there was nothing overtly aggressive about it. it was just the quiet power of a man who was used to being underestimated, a man who didn't need to say a word to command attention.

wearing a shirt that fits just right

he moved through the motions of his training with practiced precision, the rhythm of his strikes steady and controlled. his black shirt clung to his body, the dark fabric stretching over the defined muscles of his chest and back as he moved. the fit was snug, highlighting the sheer strength in his frame, the subtle curve of his biceps flexing with each punch and kick.

swaet began to bead on his forehead, trailing down his temple as he focused on his technique, his breathing steady despite the exertion. the shirt, stretched tight across his shoulders, rode up slightly as his arms reached high, the lines of his stomach momentarily visible as he performed another series of rapid, forceful punches. his torso flexed, muscles tightening and releasing with each movement, and the shirt seemed to accentuate the sculpted definition of his body.

as he paused, catching his breath, the shirt clung even tighter, the movement of his chest beneath it noticeable with every rise and fall of his breath. jason didn’t seem to notice—or care—how the fit of the shirt left little to the imagination. his focus was on the work, on pushing himself further, but the way the fabric outlined his form only added to the unspoken intensity of his presence. even when he wasn't speaking, his body did all the talking.

[kyuujo]

↳ whoops! ↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ jealousy, language, kind of a creepy dude, subtle allusions to fwb, my writing

↳ sae itoshi… the man you are… this idea literally smacked me in the face so i opted to ignore my 7+ drafts and whip it up :P thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! <3

“… oh, and did i tell you about my time with atlético madrid? boy, the sheer amount of sprained ankles i had to deal with…”

you barely suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. how long had this dude been prattling on? you know he’d told you his name, and something about being a retired physical therapist, but truthfully, that was all the information you had retained since he started talking to you. seriously, you just wanted to watch the damn game.

“that’s fascinating.” you cut him off, eyes trained on the bodies undulating across the field. well, more specifically, trained on one body…

“… and sae takes complete control of the midfield! look at him go, he’s unstoppable!”

your heart fluttered inside your chest and your gut heated as some rather lewd memories crept their way into your central vortex. you hadn’t even known locker rooms could be so… enticing before your hookup with sae.

you’d been so focused on watching sae in his element (and daydreaming) that you hadn’t even noticed when the man scooted closer to you — at least not until you felt the heat of his thigh smushed against yours, made much more noticeable by the chilly bite of october.

you snapped your eyes to the man to glare at him — he continued to drone on about something as if he hadn’t just invaded your personal bubble. you huffed and slid your ass down the bench, disconnecting his thigh from yours. your skin was starting to crawl, and where the dude had once been perceived as annoying he now was coming off as creepy.

you hoped that your disinterest in the conversation and your very obvious attempt at putting distance between the two of you would spell out your rejection to him — but it clearly didn’t, or maybe he just wasn’t speaking the same language as you, because he simply closed the distance once more.

“what about some coffee? would you want to go grab coffee with me some time?”

you were just about to open your lips to verbalize your rejection (and tell him off for his clear disrespect) when the words were stolen right from your mouth — by the sudden impact of a ball right to the side of the man’s face.

you couldn’t stop the shocked gasp that ripped through your throat as the man fell backwards off the bench with a yell of pain. you could just see some crimson splatters atop the silver of the metal stands, and for a moment, your brain completely stopped.

“and sae itoshi sends a ball flying straight into the stands! like a rocket it split through the air — oh my god, is that man okay?!”

the announcer’s sudden exclamation had you immediately whipping your attention to the field, eyes connecting with sae’s almost instantly. he stood tall on the field, one hand atop a cocked hip, and with a shrug he mouthed one word;

“whoops.”

do i really believe sae would send a ball straight into the face of anyone who gets too gutsy with his girl? yes. yes i do. thank you so much for reading, and any likes, comments or reblogs are not required but are so very appreciated!

[vivimura]

belly button piercing fixated boyfriend!riki ♡

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ something about the little jewel adorning your belly button has riki fascinated in more ways than one.

GENRE ~ smut, fluff

WORD COUNT ~ 2.113k

ᯓ★ requested. ahh, this is kinda mid but i haven't posted a lot lately so pls bare with me and comment, follow and reblog! ily guys

riki was never one to be controlling of what kind of clothes you chose to wear. he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would only encourage you to dress however you wanted, and would even shower you with compliments every chance he got.

though in all honesty, if he was ever given the power to, he'd give absolutely anything up to see you in that cute little pink tank top of yours.

maybe it was the way its straps, so thin, seemed to be falling off your shoulders constantly. or maybe how thin and fitted it was, its neckline low enough to give him a boner if he stared at it for too long.

but— if there was one reason riki was sure of why he loved that top so damn much, was how cropped it was, giving him all the access he needed to the little diamond piercing your belly button he loved oh so much.

he swiftly took the baseball cap snug on the top of his head off, tossing it in a temporary park, his intense eyes never leaving your figure on his bed as he did so. running a hand through his hair, he broke the seemingly comfortable silence with his deep voice.

"what're you doing?"

you, slouched back against a pillow by the headboard of riki’s bed, peaked at riki from over the top of your book.

“just reading.”

riki hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes tracing over the way of which you were positioned. he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest. he watched the way your eyes lingered on the book, then at the way your pretty lips gently parted as you spoke. 

he pushed himself off the frame, approaching the side of the bed. a small smirk grazed his features as he sat on the end, facing in your direction. when you didn’t look up, he made an effort to grab your attention with a firm grip on your ankle.

“hey—” you yelped when he suddenly yanked at your ankle, the action not harsh enough to actually hurt you but powerful enough to make your body lie down completely on the bed. 

you huffed and rolled your eyes, biting back a smile over how proud riki seemed of being able to have caught you off guard as you closed your book, gently placing it on the night stand beside.

“there. i’m paying attention to you now, you big baby.”  you opened your arms as an invitation for him to join you on the bed.

the satisfied smirk plastered on his face widened into a grin. riki’s eyes followed the way your arms stretched out. he took note of how you watched him stare at the sliver of skin and the glimmer stud in the middle that was exposed from the stretched out fabric of your top. with a subtle laugh he quickly took his place in the space on the bed you left for him. he leaned over, caging you in between his arms as he gently lowered himself on top of you, shifting down just enough so that he was face front with your stomach. his arms found their way around your waist as he settled himself in between your legs. his palms pressed against the sides of your lower torso, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against your skin. he laid his head against your stomach with a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. he was quiet for a second, but broke the silence with his usual deep, sultry voice. “comfy.”

you laughed softly over how it was basically second nature for him to cuddle up to you. you extended one hand to reach his scalp, gently scratching it and playing with the hair there.

riki’s eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. a small hum left his lips, and to the average ear it would’ve sounded like he was in complete bliss— maybe even relaxed. but he wasn’t. every slight touch from you was only serving to rile him up. he nuzzled his whole face against your stomach, his nose and lips pressing onto your skin. his thumbs crept under the tank top you were wearing, slowly caressing the soft skin beneath. he lifted his head to lick his lips, once again leaning down to begin peppering soft, wet kisses on the skin surrounding your navel. riki chuckled at the way your stomach flinched every time his warm, wet lips would meet your skin.

“pretty..” he commented, planting yet another kiss on your warm skin. he lifted his head slightly and glanced up at you, making eye contact as he flicked his tongue and swirled it around the bottom gem of your piercing.

your breath hitched, and you let out a quiet exhale to muffle the moan that had built up in your throat. you tilted your head back and shut your eyes to calm yourself down, soon craning your neck back down at him.

“you're really obsessed with that thing, aren't you?”

‘obsessed’ might've been an understatement on your part, riki thought. riki let out a huff of laughter before trailing more kisses along the skin just around your piercing. when he eventually pulled away and looked back up at you, his eyes darkened almost completely. they had gone from their usual sparkly, dark brown to half-lidded obsidian ones. one with desires. “what can i say?” he shrugged, licking his lips. “it's pretty.”

you always thought about how unfair it was, the way riki was able to hold eye contact without wavering, no matter what the situation he was in. the little teasing glint in his orbs, his mouth almost permanently attached to your skin, the way your stomach glistened with his saliva, it was going to be all the slow but apparent death of you. you bit down on your lower lip, seeing through his reasoning of it being ‘pretty’ to ‘i wanna turn you on’. “stop it, riki..”

a low hum left riki as his eyes watched the wet trail his tongue left behind. his hands began to wander again, his fingers dipping under the waistband of the shorts you were wearing— that, too, were driving him crazy. “stop what?” he asked, his voice sultry and deep as he started to move his head down, peppering kisses on your lower abdomen. one of his hands held the left side of your hips, the other snuck up your loose shorts and teasing the edge of your panties.

without giving you any time to process or respond, he further started to kiss his way down and reached your skin right above the waistband of your shorts, his hand still holding onto the left side of your hip to keep you from squirming away. all the while, his fingers sneakily trailed up, ‘accidentally’ brushing by the folds of your pussy.

you let out a sharp gasp, whimpering at the sudden stimulation. your hand caressing his hair tightened in grip, your head now unable to form coherent thoughts, falling back onto the pillow.

he watched your reaction intently, the sight of it causing a low chuckle to escape his mouth. he loved watching the way your body reacted to his touch. the way you were already unraveling beneath him, the needy look in your eyes, the heavy breathing, your soft tugs on his hair.

“yeah, thought so.” the tips of his fingers began tracing the curves of your clothed pussy in a manner excruciatingly slow, causing it to flinch and clench under his touch.

“riki..” you mumbled out his name almost as a whine of need, earning a string of sultry chuckles from him. he hummed in acknowledgement, the sound of it having an edge of playful mockery.

he pulled his hand out of your shorts and sat up on his knees, shifting forward to kneel between your legs instead. the new posture revealed the probably painful erection outlined by his gray sweats. “tell me what you want, baby..” he purred out, untying the knot of the drawstrings of your shorts and beginning to tug it down. 

you bit down on your lower lip in anticipation, spreading your legs wide to accommodate for his large frame. you took the action of him undoing your drawstrings as a silent command to lift your hips and let him take off the shorts, and so you did. “you..”

the single word, so pure and deprived of explicit, conveyed a clear sense of need to riki in such a way that caused his cock to twitch. he let out a hoarse chuckle as an attempt to keep his own behavior in check and nodded. “mm.. yea, i’ll give you what you want...”

by the end of his sentence, riki had tossed the flimsy material of your shorts away and had begun to fumble with his own clothes. riki held back a groan at how visibly wet you’d gotten, busying himself by pulling his tee off and pushing down his pants and boxers in one motion. the angry, mauvish tip of his cock bounced by his abdomen and riki moved forward, pressing one hand beside your head to support his weight.

riki teasingly began rubbing the head of his cock up and down your clothed folds, coating it in your arousal.

you let out a sound between a whimper and whine, hands forming fists of the sheets below. your arousal mixed with his precum drenched the material of your underwear, thinning it in a way that made every sensation of his touch so apparent to be felt, but not enough to please.

“so, so pretty..” riki repeated for the nth time, continuing to toy his tip to your pussy no matter how impatient it made him.

however, the soft whimpers escaping your lips and the way your pussy pulsated was too much for riki to keep up with. he let go of his cock, hooking a finger into the elastic of your panties and began pulling it down.

with a satisfied sigh, he tossed it away, taking in the sight of your wetness all for him to ravish. he aligned his cock, holding onto your hips as he slowly slid into you.

you moaned out his name, your back arching as a reflex as you got yourself used to the feeling of him inside you. his fingers dug into your hips in a way somehow pleasing, and he slowly began to thrust himself in and out of you.

riki groaned and threw his head back at the familiar, nevertheless incredibly pleasing sensation of your tight pussy. he let out a silent curse every time you’d clench a little around him, fucking you with deep strokes.

the pretty sounds of your moans were like music to his ears, as his hips snapped forward over and over again, draining your mind of any thoughts except for him, and how good he made you feel.

one of his hands gripping your hips moved to lay flat against your stomach, and he groaned at the cool sensation of your piercing under his warm palm, and how it was protruding out from the effect his cock stuffed deep inside you. “fuck, baby..”

he flicked the jewel with his finger and continued pounding into you, leaning forward to capture your lips into a bruising kiss that muffled both your sounds of pleasure. he swallowed your moans and invaded his tongue into your mouth, picking up the speed at which he slammed into you balls deep. he could feel you flutter and clench around him as evidence that you were close, so he slid his hand from your stomach down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in hard, fast circles.

the kiss, initiated by him, was broken by you when he began pleasuring your clit, feeling the need to be able to moan freely. your legs trembled and bucked just a little over how he could make you feel so damn good.

“riki, shit-.. i’m gonna..”

“fuuuck..”

he groaned out at the feeling of your cum beginning to coat his cock. riki’s dark eyes bore into yours, and with a feral groan, he slammed himself deep into you, burying his cock into your pussy as his own release overtook him.

grinding his hips into you, he pushed every bit of his release back into you, letting go of your clit and hip to interlock his hands with yours. for a few moments, the two of you savored the moment of high and panted to catch your breath.

he leaned forward and kissed you once again, this one more sweet and intimate than the last one.

[blkkizzat]

PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ 𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟒 — 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚, 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: nov 13th, 9:54 pm ⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞: eau du pussy (pussy scent lol) + dubcon + dumbification + riding + teasing + choking + brat!reader + trueform!sukuna ⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 2872

Bored out of your mind and fighting the urge to fidget, you stand stationed to Sukuna’s left, Uraume silently positioned on his right like the picture perfect little servant they are. The minutes drag like hours—forty-five excruciatingly dull minutes of Sukuna entertaining sorcerers and curses groveling for his favor. You still couldn’t fathom why he insists on you being present for these pathetic displays, but nonetheless here you are, trapped in the circus of his ego.

Watching paint dry would be more amusing—it certainly wouldn’t smell as bad!

That’s because most of the unfortunate souls asking anything of Sukuna ended up charred to ash. Their brittle bones joining in the ever-growing pile beneath his throne—a macabre monument to the grim fate awaiting anyone who'd dare to waste his time. (Even though he clearly had no qualms about wasting yours). On the rare occasion someone left alive it was only because Sukuna deemed them marginally worthwhile, but even that was a gamble.

Shifting your weight, you feel the numbing tingle of pins and needles creeping up your legs. The acrid stench of burnt flesh, human and otherwise, triggers a wave of nausea as you try really hard not to openly gag.

'Your lack of even the smallest semblance of willpower or decorum is rather impressive, woman.'

The words echo in your head—one of Sukuna’s favorite digs, thrown your way anytime your bemoaning broke through the limits of his patience. You know Sukuna relishes the sight of you squirming, and at this point, you were convinced the only reason he had you stand here in the first place was for his personal amusement. 

How Uraume tolerated the royal asshole willingly for over a millennia, you’d never understand.

But this time, you endured it better, biting back a smirk as the faintest edge of satisfaction bubbles beneath your boredom. 

For once, you had a bit of leverage.

The irony is delicious. The same word he used to mock you—willpower—had been key to goading him into cucking himself for ‘No Nut November.’

Of course The King of Curses didn’t give a damn about mortal bets, but when you teased him, implying he was far too “pussy-whipped” to go a month without fucking you, the nerve you struck was impossible for him to ignore. His pride wouldn’t let it slide, and so, with a sharp sneer, he’d agreed to the terms.

Sukuna had declared it would be effortless. He was, after all, above such mortal temptations—or so he claimed.

Except he wasn’t.

On the surface, Sukuna appeared to be doing quite an admirable job of not missing your pretty lil' pussy, but you could see the invisible cracks forming. His temper, already infamous, had grown even more volatile—if such a thing were possible— and while his mounting frustrations were subtle, it was impossible to miss for those who dare notice.

You and Uraume were likely the only ones who could comment on it without risking immediate dismemberment, but neither of you are foolish enough to point it out directly. Keeping your limbs didn’t mean you wouldn’t pay for the remark.

Holding back your amusement, a quick glance at Sukuna confirmed what you already knew. A prominent vein on his forehead, which had become increasingly more pronounced as the month wore on, is now pulsing angrily. Sukuna’s brimming disinterest, betrayed by narrowing eyes, signals his impatience with the curse before him.

You didn’t need the ability to see into the future to know the groveling curse doesn’t have much of one left—you’d give it 3 to 5 minutes tops.

Fed up with the same song and dance, you sought any distraction wherever you could find it. This time, it came in the form of your sparkly new manicure. The pearlescent pink gel shimmered under the flickering torchlight, a tiny masterpiece of your own creation. 

Rarely allowed to leave this wretched place, you’d taught yourself how to apply your own gel nails to combat the intense monotony of palace life with Sukuna. At least something could sparkle prettily in Sukuna’s oppressively dreary throne room.

You wave your hand out in front of you, smiling to yourself in satisfaction, you honestly really out did yourself on your latest gel set you’d really have to—

“WOMAN!”

Sukuna's ferocious bark shakes the room and snaps your attention back to him. 

“Huh?”

Ignoring the cowering curse entirely, the wrath in Sukuna’s crimson eyes locks onto you with a dangerous glint, his scrutiny intensifying at your airheaded response.

With a single clawed finger, Sukuna beckons you forward. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes as you reluctantly ascend the treacherous steps of bones and ash leading up to his throne. The crushing force of Sukuna’s cursed energy bears down on the room is suffocating and everyone's attention is on you. 

Once in front of him, Sukuna doesn't even give you the opportunity to even ask what this is all about before he strikes. All four of his monstrous arms seize you at once, effortlessly manhandling you into his huge lap, his hands like steer bars bruising your wrists.

“Ow! Quit it, Kuna! I was being good, wasn’t I, Daddy?!”

Sukuna’s eyes flare dangerously at you causally addressing him in such a way, but he doesn’t bother to berate you for it—not when his current audience won’t live to leave this room and tell anyone how a mere human woman dared to address The King of Curses himself.

Sukuna's restraint, however, has its limits. 

Especially when he already has something much better to punish you for. With a swift tug, he yanks you closer, pressing your small hand to his face. A deep inhale follows, his keen senses confirming his suspicions.

“Oh, were you now brat?”

The wicked curve of his lips promises nothing good for you—nevertheless, it sends your heart racing with equal parts dread and excitement.

Sukuna's tone assumes a low drawl, vibrating in his chest with sinister amusement. The soundwaves ripple down your spine causing your core to quiver and dampen.

“Then explain this filthy scent your duplicitous little fingers are drenched in, brat.”

Oop! Busted.

But even with you trapped in his cruel hands— a hold that has so easily snapped hundreds like meaningless twigs—you couldn’t resist the urge to sass him. Poking the monstrous beast was a game you never grew tired of.

“Why, my sweet lil’ pussy juices, my king.” 

You purr softly with an impish grin, looking up at Sukuna seductively under your long babydoll lashes. 

“Whyever do you ask?”

Sukuna’s eyes widen devilishly, pure amusement dripping from him, though the promise of retribution edges on his words.

“Tsk, so you concede, woman? You admit you lack the willpower to stand obediently—like you lack the couth not to touch that shameless, manipulative cunt of yours.”

“Aht-aht, don’t forget tight—”

Winding your hips over the growing bulge under his robes, you feel Sukuna’s control unravel by the second. Twin cocks stirring beneath you, his reaction betrays him now as much as the lingering scent on your fingers betrayed you earlier.

A low purr slips from your lips, soft and alluring, a deliberate tickle to Sukuna’s heightened senses.

“My tight, shameless, manipulative cunt—you remember her, don’t you, my King? Remember how nice she feels?”

The air is thick with tension as you revel in the thrill of pushing him. Your half-lidded eyes, framed by your impossibly long babydoll lashes, cast a sultry gaze that only adds to the tease. 

“Watch it, Brat.”

You knew full well you were playing with fire—the most dangerous kind at that. Yet the peril only fueled your arousal with every calculated, yet foolish, risk you take with Sukuna. Being with Sukuna was playing a constant gamble with your life— and yet never failed to get you entirely soaking.

“Awe Daddy, don’t get mad cause you didn’t understand the rules. It’s called ‘No Nut November’ not ‘No Squirt November’—”

Sukuna’s red eyes glow red as a primal snarl escapes him.

He allows you just enough freedom to shift in his grasp, your body falling forward to press your tits against his chest while his claws dig into your flesh, dangerously close to breaking skin. Fully bricked, Sukuna's twin cocks are throbbing against your ass their heat and size impossible to ignore.

With a smile you seal your fate with one last taunting remark, faux innocence threading through your sinful words. 

“—ya know, you having blue balls for the month wasn’t contingent on my pussy staying dry, Kuna. As your dutiful servant I have to keep both holes stretched and ready for when you eventually crack, don’t I?”

And that was that.

It was truly your fault you ended up in this situation. 

You couldn't blame anyone else but your slick-ass mouth writing checks for your ass and pussy they could barely afford to cash.

But this was something you did on purpose too, huh?

It just so happened that Uraume had come to you in confidence asking to end this silly 'NNN' farce—they’d be your errand runner for an entire month if you’d just fuck Sukuna calm again—well as calm as a volitle curse like Sukuna could be.

And okay while Uraume didn't use those exact words, it was still something to the effect of ‘the lack of mating making Sukuna truly unbearable and they would run whatever errands you wanted in Tokyo if you’d put an end to it.’

Granted, Uraume never told you to take things this far.

But the toxic side of you, the ‘sassy brat with a death wish’ as Sukuna deems you, did want to see exactly how much you could get away with.

Well, you were alive and also still in one piece—which is far more than you can say for the pretty lilac yukata and panties you had worn, reduced to shreds before you could blink. Naked and exposed, Sukuna’s vice-like hands envelop your waist threatening to leave a permanent imprint as he slams you down onto his girthy twin-cocks. 

Both lengths stretch and fill your holes to the absolute limit—your flimsy fingers clearly not enough prep to compensate for the 12 days you’d gone without him and his monstrous cocks. Convinced he was tearing you in half, there's nothing your aching pussy and ass could do but take it when he bottoms out. The sheer size of his lengths violating every sensitive spot inside you as a well of drool to spills over your lips.

Of course, Sukuna doesn’t care if you've yet to adjust. 

The sting of tears in your eyes pales in comparison to the searing burn deep in your womb as your ass slams down onto his muscular thighs, the mix of pleasure and pain almost unbearable. Welts bloom across your skin from the mouths on his hands puncturing your tingling curves. Their sharp teeth dig in deeper as he grips you tighter, guiding you to bounce on him.

Your fresh manicure chips as your nails rake down his massive thighs in a desperate attempt to find support. With your feet braced between his manspread thighs and your limbs trembling from the strain, you're forcefully fucked stupid on his twin cocks, every thrust leaving you closer to the edge of madness.

Honestly, your mind broke the second he bullied them in, you’re purely on autopilot now.

“Looks like I have to teach this insolent little cunt some manners again. Though look how eager she is for her punishment—both holes at that.”

Sukuna’s voice rumbles through you with raw untamed hunger as his heavy hand slaps down on your stuffed pussy.  "HHNNNNGHHHH!!"

Choking on your own spittle from the overwhelming sensations, gurgles of ecstasy echo from you. 

The obscene noise of flesh colliding against flesh is heard throughout Sukuna’s throne room, mingling with your wanton cries. Sukuna times his hips upward with your descent on his cocks, ensuring you wouldn't be able to run with not an inch of him left unsheathed. 

Winding you up like a child’s toy, Sukuna delivers a smack to your ass telling you to keep going as he leaves you to it. Carrying on with terrifying nonchalance, Sukuna welcomes in the remaining petitioners as though you weren't dramatically impaling yourself on his cocks. Those who dared let their eyes linger on the spectacle of your tremoring bouncing body and face twisted in pure euphoria for too long were immediately dismantled—their remains scattering across the floor in a gruesome display of Sukuna’s wrath.

As much as Sukuna reveled in his humiliation of you, he was still insanely jealous. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to oogle you so lustfully in front of him. Like a skilled succubus the temptation you presented isn't easy to ignore and Sukuna soon finds himself killing nearly everyone who entered before they even opened their mouths. 

“Look back at me, whore. Keep your attention on your King.” 

Sukuna’s command is swimming in possessiveness but you can’t even process how jealous he is while he’s fucking your brain so perfectly smooth. You obey, although reduced to delirious sugary giggles and coos while you ride him. Your head tilting back, taking your eyes with it, you part your lips wide and stick out your tongue expectantly. 

“AAHHHHH~”

Sukuna feigns a scoff although he is thoroughly amused by how far you'd debase yourself on his cocks and so willingly too. You are far from humiliated. If anything the excitement of being watched makes you cream on him harder. Rewarding your slutty ways, Sukuna spits a fat wad of his saliva directly into your mouth. Cunt clenching around him wildly, you swallow it eargery asking for more with lewd flicks of your tongue.

“Just a nasty fucking girl, aren't you?” 

Driving up into you harder, Sukuna’s snarl has your entire body vibrating. The tongues on his burly palms swirl over your swollen areolas making your toes curl deliciously.

“Imagine a bratty slut like you the gall to call me pussy-whipped when you fall apart so easily on my cocks?”

His large hand pressed firmly against your belly, a feral growl escaping him as he felt the bulge his cock made inside you, his balls tightening painfully ready for release. 

“Now speak properly. Tell me where my pretty lil’ whore wants it.”

Sukuna taunts you knowing how you can't find words and yet somehow, because he had commanded it, you find the will to speak again. Your feeble whimpers of pleasure are near incoherent.

“I-Insiiiiiide—pluh-lease, hnnnng—wan' it s' bad, Daddy-AHHHH!!”

Your pace slows as your limbs begin to give out and Sukuna doesn't waste time scooping you up to fold you in half. His arms connect tightly hugging around your knees as your back smushes against the fiery skin of his chest.

One of his extra arms reaches around, delivering a stinging, wet slap to your pussy. The sharp smack sends a jolt through your body, and with a loud shriek, you squirt again more feverishly this time as. your release splashes across his throne. Your fluids even drain down to the floor, trickling down the steps below in rivulets.

Lifting you on his cocks until only the very tips of his fat cockheads hook on the muscles of your holes before sending you plummling back down, making you see pure white heated nirvana.  

“It's only naturally my fiendish lil' slut would want to be bred in front of an audience.” 

Sukuna is dripping with wicked intent, fangs salivating on your neck.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”

His grip moved to your throat, constricting your airflow as he fuckes you with increasing intensity, each brutal thrust wrecking your body like you were nothing more than a doll in his hands. The pressure built unbearably in your core, and with one last, devastating stroke, your orgasm shattered through you, body exploding with shivers rippling through every fiber of your being as you convulse around him.

Sukuna’s twin cocks seize, ready to blow as well, but at the very last moment, he pulls out—hot webby ropes of spunk spill across your back, pooling on his stomach, his throne, the floor—everywhere BUT in your eagerly awaiting pussy.

Blinking confused in a daze, your expression as you glance back at him leaves Sukuna hardily laughing in a wicked glee, looking absolutely diabolical. 

“Awe, poor lil' whore— you realize it’s still ‘No Nut November’, don't you brat?"

Sneering, Sukuna hauls you down to your knees by your hair.

"And I am hearby making new amendments to the rules—I will nut however there will be none being put inside those vile greedy holes of yours."

You whine as your now empty pussy and asshole pulse in disappointment —longing for the feeling of his cum oozing out of them.

Sukuna's twin-cocks, still fully hard and trickling out his cum, are gleaming in the torch light—what a waste!

The expression he wears is nothing short of cruel.

“You want my cum?” 

You moan in confirmation as Sukuna darkly hums.

“Then your treacherous lil' cunt is going to spend the rest of the fucking month proving yourself worthy of it, whore.”

Roughly prodding his cocks against your pretty, yet pathetic, lil' pout Sukuna laughs as you try not to slip on all the fluids at his feet.

“Now, clean me up, slutty lil' brat.”

blkkizzat ©2023-2024 no ai, reposting, plagiarism or translation allowed.

𝐚/𝐧: next 12/15, 6:00 a.m. PST queued geto suguru shhh, sukuna is pussy-whipped and will likely cum in you regardless in less than 24hrs. reblogs and comments make my coochie quake tysm! <3

[rafecameronssl4t]

Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

[nachojaehyun]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© nachojaehyun, 2024.

[treeguzzler]

was up at 4am thinking about megumi🗣️

look me in the eyes and tell me that megumi doesn’t get jealous when he sees you on his bed, body in his shirt (which you look absolutely stunning in), wrapped all snug in his blanket…

… cuddling with his divine dogs.

megumi isn’t normally a jealous person— why would he need to be jealous when he’s got you by his side?

but the way your high pitched giggles filled the room’s atmosphere, paired with the two divine dogs on each side of you, stirs something in him. yeah, sure, it’s a heart squeezing (in a good way) sight to behold— a sight that megumi would take in bit-by-bit, savoring it— it takes every centimeter, no, every nanometer of his being not to keel over, clutching his left chest in pure adoration of his partner and cooing at the sight. he’d be a sinner to even think that the glorious sight in front of him didn’t make him want to drop to his knees and worship your very being.

but a sinner he shall be.

his girl, his girl, the very woman he devoted his heart, soul and very being to every second he was breathing, was currently busy showering his shikigami with love, honeyed coos and words along the lines of “good doggies!” spilling out of her mouth while said ‘doggies’ were slobbering her cheeks with drool. (why did he even summon his divine dogs again?)

though he too, did adore (once again, something he wouldn’t say out loud) his divine dogs, he couldn’t help but feel like he should have let them be destroyed by a curse in a mission. (intrusive thoughts)

sure, they were his shikigami. with a flick of a finger could he have them be gone from sight, leaving all your attention to be focused onto him. but for some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do that. it wasn’t because he loved you (believe me, he does, and would continue to do so even if the sky were to fall and the ground give way to the curses), but it was because he felt… what was the word now? domestic? he didn’t know how to properly phrase what he was thinking about at the moment, having not felt this feeling for majority of his childhood. there was only a subtle gnawing feeling in his chest, but not the bad type of feeling. (it might not make sense but) it was the type of feeling that whispered in his ear:

she’s the one.

as megumi’s usually sharp gaze softened into something much more fonder (he looked at you as if you just went to outer space and picked out a star to bring back for him because he said stars were pretty), he really couldn’t help but wonder what he had truly done to deserve such an adorable sight to be put in front if his eyes.

damn, should he just wife you up the second you both reach the legal age?

“h-hey! ‘gumi c’mere and cuddle! they want you too!”

“huh? oh yeah coming…”

oh how megumi wishes he could wife you up right at that moment.

[irlsiths]

NIGHTS LIKE THIS ⟡ ݁₊ .

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“i think about you, and nothing else..”

bsf!chris x reader

contains: fluff ! (slight) making out, a tiny bit of angst

you sighed quietly as you watched the sun set in chris’s car. gosh, it was so peaceful. it was quiet, but not an awkward quiet.

you glanced at chris, who was staring straight forward. the sun hitting his face in just the right way. he was beautiful. was it bad to feel this way about your best friend?

you just looked back at the sun, listening to the cars go by.

“y’know..” chris started, breaking the silence, “i—i know i don’t say this often but.. i love these moments with you.” he muttered softly, glancing in your direction for just a second.

you slowly turned your head to face him, a subtle smile resting on your lips as you spoke, “i do too.”

he just quietly stared at you, his eyes wandering down, not so subtly. before they suddenly looked back up into your eyes.

“you’re like my little getaway.” you joked, chuckling. and you earned a small chuckle from chris aswell.

but then, you shrugged. “no, seriously man. i can always be myself around you.” you smiled shyly, looking at him.

he smirked, turning his body to face you more. he liked that, liked that you were your true self around him, and only him.

“i love you man, you’re my bestfriend.”

his smile almost immediately faded, and he scoffed under his breath, facing forward. “yea, ‘f course.”

your smile was quick to falter as well, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him. what is he talking about?

“what? what is it? what did i say?” you said softly, not wanting to make him even more upset than what he obviously is right now. but, damn, were you curious.

he huffed, shaking his head. “nah, it’s nothing.”

but you sighed, you didn’t like when he got like this. all—quiet and upset. you weren’t gonna let him sit there and sulk.

“chris, seriously. what’s the matter with you? talk to me.” you said softly, gently trying to grab his hand to get his attention.

“no, i hate when you do that shit.” he said almost immediately, tugging his arm away, he was on fire now.

“that whole ‘best-friend’ thing. it’s all bullshit, and you know it!” he ranted, not even taking a glance at you.

“fuck, baby. i’m—so sick of waiting for you! waiting for you to finally be mine. you’re so blind—god, you’re so stupid.”

your lips parted in shock, and you just stared at him. trying to wrap your head around the fact that he liked you, back. you couldn’t even believe it,

so this wasn’t all one-sided feelings this entire time?

“chris look at me.” you whispered, and it didn’t even leave your lips all the way before chris turned to you. his eyes tired and upset.

“i don’t see you as just my friend.” you shook your head, not breaking eye-contact with him. “you’re so much more to me.”

he paused, staring at you for a second before whispering back.

“c’mere.” he mumbled, gently reaching over and pulling you onto his lap, hesitantly placing a slow kiss on your lips.

you smiled placing your hands on both sides of his face, tilting your head to kiss him back. just as eagerly, and slow.

it didn’t take long before chris started getting needy, licking your lips as he silently begged for your permission to taste you.

once you parted your lips, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, arching his back to be closer to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as your tongues fought for dominance.

if anything; chris was making the most noise. letting out needy whines and moans, mumbling your name against your lips.

you gently ran your fingers through his soft hair, earning another groan from chris. gosh, he was so gone for you.

he huffed, getting impatient now. he gently started grinding against you, trying to show you how much he needed you.

“backseat, now.”

💌 hi, this one was so long i’m sorry 😭 but i’m back, (hopefully for good) should i make an nsfw part 2?

[chleem]

Work from home

Oneshot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: staying focused is impossible with drew’s ‘subtle’ distractions, especially when he’s determined to get your attention. 

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, light read

Warnings: cursing, sex (pussy eating), lowkey needy drew,

⋆.˚ don't copy or translate my work

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Will you-“

You turn around, slapping the pen out of Drew’s hand. “Cut it out?”

Drew looks at you with his signature blank stare, as if his own annoyance is justified. 

The two of you haven’t seen each other in weeks, due to you and Drew’s busy schedules. His new movie’s coming out, and you have a very urgent report to write for your boss.

Now that you’re finally under the same roof as him, you can’t help but get annoyed at every distraction he causes. 

He came into the home office not even ten minutes, and he’s occupied himself by playing with the things on your desk. Flipping through your binders, messing with the AC, etc. You just deprived him of his last fidget toy. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, unapologetically. 

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. You continue typing, ignoring the gloomy presence behind you. If he wasn’t so distracting, this report can be done in...an hour. 

Not even thirty seconds later; “hey, um, I need your help,” you hear him talking behind you, a weight put on the armrest to your right. 

You ignore it; knowing Drew just wanted to distract you. 

“Y/n?” His fingers drum against your armrest now, tapping impatiently, trying to get your attention. 

Once again, you stay focused, typing away at your report. 

“Babe.” 

You don’t miss the firm, almost commanding tone hinted in his nickname for you. 

“Yes?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, with your fingers still typing away. You watch as his eyes glance over at your fingers, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. 

“Stop that-“ his hand hover over yours before gently pressing them flat against the keyboard, halting your typing. Your raise an eyebrow at Drew, waiting for him to explain. “Stop with this whole- work thing.”

You pull your fingers out, crossing your arms as you laid back on your chair. He ignited a flare inside of you that you didn’t know, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Drew gently bites down on his lips, scratching the back of his head. His eyes plead to you, the blue in them sparkling, for some reason. “Spend time with me. I’m bored, and we’re home together.”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, but you quickly mask it, staring back at your laptop screen. “I’m working, Drew,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“You’re always working…” you hear him murmur, as your hands go back to the keyboard again. You brush his hands away, straightening your posture. 

The typing of your keyboard is the only thing filling the silence of the room, Drew’s presence close beside you. 

Drew’s a big guy, so subtle movements by him was all noticeable in the corner of your eye. He kneels beside you, his hand pulling your chair back. “Hey-“

You begin to protest, but he does the most unexpected thing. 

He brings himself between your legs, and he hugs your lower stomach. 

Woah. The warmth of him floods through you, making it hard to think straight. His arms fully wrap around your waist, nuzzling his face between your thighs.

He doesn’t move; just hugging your waist, kneeling on the ground. 

You clear your throat, flustered at the close proximity of him. “Drew?”

His blue eyes peek up at you, a sly glint in them. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, but you hear the teasing edge in it. What sends you over is the closeness of his face near your core; the damn thin material of your shorts. 

“What are you doing?” Was your voice always this hitched?

“Just hugging you,” Drew mumbles, his fingers rubbing soft circles around the bare skin that your crop-top showed. He sees the skepticism lingering on your features, and sends a small smirk along the way. “Can’t I?”

…This motherfucker. He’s trying to distract you! 

Fine. Two could play this game. 

With a deliberate shift, you ease back into your chair. “Of course you can,” you reply, “But if you’re done with the hugging, I’ve got work to do.”

Drew watches you for a beat, eyes flicking over your face. You feel him nuzzle his face back between your thighs, but you stay focused—typing, clicking, pretending to give him no more attention than his little distractions deserve.

His hand slips under your top, fingers coming in contact with your breasts. 

At the same time, he starts to plant kisses on your inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your underwear. 

Fuck. You needed to stop him, because if he goes any further, no work will be done. Except for the lustful one that’s building in your stomach. 

Two could play this game? No; you yield in seconds because of how Drew plays. 

You run your hands through his scalp, feeling the soft strands of hair beneath your touch. A knowing smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you. “This isn’t a hug,” you manage to say, thumb rubbing the corner of his eye. 

He leans into your touch, “I’know.”

“Then stop it,” you say, the words feeling hollow, because you don’t want him to stop. Not really. 

“When you’re focused, nothing else really matters, right?” 

Drew fucking Starkey. 

He delivers a quick kiss to your wrist, before nuzzling his face back to where it was. You watch as his hands spreads your thighs further apart, fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts. 

Shit. It’s working already. 

“No-“

“C’mon,” he teases, staring up at you with the familiar look of mischief. “Won’t even know I’m down here.”

You give him a knowing grin, “really need to get this done, Drew.”

“Hmm,” he pats your back, “ignore me like before, babe.”

“Y’know that’s impossible,” you mumble, hips rising just like he told you to.

His eyes stare into yours lustfully, fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until they’re to your knees. “Just a taste…then I’ll leave you alone.”

He’s never going to leave you alone. 

He averts his attention to the now throbbing pussy of yours, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. “Hey, look,” a grin appears on his lips, “you don’t want me to leave.”

You throw your head back against the chair, partly embarrassed at his mention of the wetness that has pooled since he ‘hugged’ you. Teasing prick. 

His soft chuckle echos through the room, before you feel the warmth of his tongue against your folds. 

You gasp out of pleasure and surprise; he wastes no time in eating you, fully making out with your folds. “Fuck,” you curse, running your hands through his scalp. 

He grunts against you, one hand raising your leg over his shoulder, to get him deeper between you. His other hand reaches under your top, and he starts kneading your breasts. 

“Drew…” you shamelessly moan out his name, melting under his touch; he knew how to pleasure you, to make you feel good. Hearing your moans, Drew picks up the pace, his licks getting sloppier, losing any sense of rhythm. 

A slow curve of your spine, you let the sensation roll through you. His hand around your breasts play with your hardened nipples, rubbing and tugging on them. The grip your thigh silently demands you stay still as he eats you out. 

The sounds of his wet tongue against you fills the room, along with moans and grunts of pleasure. 

You feel your orgasm building, begging to released. “Shit,” you manage to say, the air being knocked out of you. “I’m, close.”

“Mhm,” he hums, hot breath hitting your clit. “Cum in my mouth, baby.”

His words along with the playing of your nipples do it; the knot in your stomach undone. He slows down on his tongue, licking it up and swallowing. Fuck. 

For a moment, the two of you take seconds just stare into each other’s eyes, heavy breaths mixing together. 

Then, the moment is over, because Drew lets go of your leg, breasts, the whole warmth of him disappearing. 

You stare at him confused as he stands up again, wondering if something shifted. 

You also don’t miss the evident boner in his pants. 

He cocks his head to the side, “back to work, huh?” The mocking in his voice stings in your head, as he walks off, out your office. 

Motherfucker. You sit there, still reeling from the orgasm. You don’t even want - can’t to do work anymore. Now? You just want Drew. Specifically what’s growing in his pants. 

Maybe this report can wait a bit longer? …you hate how badly you want him right now, how he got you right where he wants you to be. 

“Drew!” You yell after him, getting up and tugging your underwear and shorts to the floor. 

You walk out your home office, to the shared bedroom, and see Drew getting ready to hop in bed. 

He looks you up and down, eyes lingering longer at your naked lower half. Your eyes find them glued to his boner too, “maybe I can have a five minute break.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and before you can even think, you’re jumping into his arms. His strong hands catches you effortlessly, pulling you closer as you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, the heat of his body enveloping you.

His arms tighten around you, holding you steady as you lean in, lips finding his. You kiss him, with eagerness, lust, everything. He kisses you back with the same energy, lying you down on the bed. 

He hovers over you, his weight just enough to make your heart race, your hands already reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

But Drew pulls away, his blue eyes locking with yours, a playful edge in them. “This could take longer than five,” he says, his voice low, teasing, and full of promise.

“Hmm,” you mindlessly hum, the idea of work slipping away. 

He was right; it ended up being not one, but three rounds tangled up in sheets, and the report long forgotten. 

It was also a lesson to yourself; to stop procrastinating, and never work with Drew around. 

-------------------------------

word count: 1.7k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hoped you enjoyed this! got this idea from watching that scene from Through my Window (iykyk). and ik, its a very sloppy writing so ignore any mistakes T_T also, isnt this pic of him just delicious? ugh, to be his gf...anyways, hope you liked this!

[chxnsgirl]

필릭스 ─── hands on me

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI!  ✁ tattoo artist!felix x afab!reader , sliiight buildup , oral (f. rec) , unprotected p in v (don't be silly) this was a request ♡ i hope you like it ! ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

it wasn't your first tattoo, but it was your first time going to this shop. 

what made it nerve-wracking was the fact that your tattoo artist, felix, was absolutely stunning. you had heard about him through a friend, and now, seeing him in person, it was impossible not to feel a little flustered.

felix was everything you imagined—and then some. his black hair, slightly tousled, framed a face that could've been carved by a master sculptor. the tattoos that covered his arms, neck, and chest were intricate and bold, each one telling a story. 

he also had a variety of piercings���small hoops and studs that caught the light in a way that was somehow both edgy and captivating. his warm eyes, though, were what really threw you off guard. despite his tough exterior, there was something soft, inviting, almost comforting about them.

but it wasn’t just his eyes that drew you in. you couldn’t help but focus on his lips, which were perfectly shaped—plump and naturally a little shiny, likely from the chapstick he kept applying. you found yourself getting lost in the way he spoke, your eyes lingering on his lips as he explained the tattoo process, trying not to blush every time he glanced your way.

he looked so damn good. and that only made your nerves skyrocket.

the tattoo itself wasn’t huge, but the idea of being alone with him, vulnerable as he worked on your skin, had you second-guessing everything. you had no idea how long you could stay still, especially with his hands so close to you.

after you filled out the paperwork, felix returned shortly, holding a few sketches he’d worked on. you had opted for a bite mark design on your inner thigh—something subtle but realistic, something that would look almost like a real imprint. you’d spent hours online researching, and now it was time to make it real. you looked at the options, your hand shaking slightly as you reached out to point at the one you liked the most.

“this one’s perfect,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. your gaze lifted to meet his, feeling heat creep up your neck. you tried to push the nerves down, but it was hard when he was standing so close, his presence overwhelming in the best and worst ways.

felix chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed your discomfort. his expression softened just a little, and he leaned in slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the spot you had pointed to. “don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and calm, almost teasing. “we’ll take it slow. you’ll be fine.”

you nodded, trying to calm the storm of butterflies in your stomach. felix’s confidence was reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the mix of excitement and nerves swirling within you. 

felix slipped on his black gloves, the latex stretching over his fingers with a soft snap. he looked up at you, his gaze shifting between the paperwork on the counter and the spot you had indicated for your tattoo. "so, where did you say you wanted it again? your inner thigh?" his voice was steady, but there was a slight curiosity in his tone, maybe even a hint of hesitation.

you nodded, setting your bag down on the table next to the tattoo chair, your hands slightly trembling from both nerves and anticipation. "yeah, the inner thigh."

felix seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking to your leggings. you could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to phrase his question just right. "um... are those rollable?" he asked, gesturing vaguely toward your leggings.

your stomach sank, realization hitting you. you had completely forgotten to bring a pair of safety shorts, the kind that would make this whole process a lot easier for both of you. you felt a knot tighten in your chest. "uh... no. they're not," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you avoided his gaze, suddenly very aware of your clothing.

felix's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly, clearly understanding the situation. he seemed to be weighing his words, a slight furrow of uncertainty crossing his brow before he spoke again. "are you comfortable with... taking them off?" his voice was gentle, yet there was a note of hesitation there, as if unsure how you might react. "if not, it's okay. we can always reschedule, do it another day."

you felt the pressure of the moment, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. you knew you had to get this done—work was about to pick up, and you didn’t have much time to spare. you couldn’t afford to reschedule. after a brief moment of internal conflict, you sighed softly and gave a small, reassuring shake of your head. "i can take them off. it's fine," you said, your voice a little more steady now. you offered a smile, though it felt slightly forced.

felix's expression seemed to relax at your words, the tension in his shoulders easing. he gave you a small, reassuring smile in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "okay," he said gently. "i'll give you some privacy, then."

with that, he turned and made his way toward the door. his footsteps were quiet, almost deliberate, and before leaving, he glanced back at you once more. "let me know when you're ready," he said softly before closing the door behind him, leaving you in the room alone.

you stood there for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling through you. you knew it was just part of the process, but it felt more intimate than you anticipated. still, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what came next.

you called out softly, "i'm ready," your voice steady despite the storm of nerves coursing through you. moments later, the door creaked open, and felix stepped back in, his gaze carefully neutral as he approached.

"alright," he said warmly, his tone professional yet kind. he kept his focus on your face as he moved to his workstation, ensuring you didn’t feel self-conscious under his gaze. "let me just get everything set up."

you nodded, clutching the edge of the chair lightly, your palms damp. the air felt cooler against your exposed skin, heightening your awareness of the situation. you reminded yourself that this was just part of the process—felix was a professional, and you were in good hands.

felix busied himself organizing his tools, laying out the stencil, and double-checking the placement. when he turned back toward you, he knelt slightly to meet your eye level, his tone gentle. "alright, i’m going to place the stencil now. let me know if it feels off, okay?"

you swallowed hard and nodded again, your throat feeling tight. "okay," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix moved closer, his gloved hands brushing lightly against your skin as he positioned the stencil on your inner thigh. his touch was firm yet delicate, and the closeness of it all made your heart race even faster. you forced yourself to stay still, focusing on your breathing.

"how does that look?" felix asked, pulling back slightly to give you space to examine the placement. his eyes met yours, soft and reassuring, as if sensing your nervousness.

you glanced down, grateful for the chance to break eye contact. the stencil looked perfect—exactly where you’d envisioned it. "it’s great," you said, trying to sound more confident. "right where i wanted it."

"good," felix replied, smiling slightly as he stood up. he moved to adjust his machine, the hum of it filling the room a moment later. "you ready to get started? i’ll go slow at first, so you can get used to the feeling."

you nodded, gripping the armrests of the chair a little tighter. "yeah, i’m ready."

felix leaned in again, his presence calming despite the anxiety bubbling within you. his voice was gentle as he spoke. "just let me know if you need a break, okay? you’re doing great so far."

the first touch of the needle against your skin was sharp, but it was the kind of pain you could endure. you tried to focus on the steady hum of the machine and felix’s soft, calming instructions. still, his closeness made it hard to relax—his body angled toward you, his breath occasionally fanning over your skin, and the subtle brush of his hand near your inner thigh sent your heart racing.

felix worked with a laser focus, his movements precise and practiced as he outlined the stencil. his professionalism was clear, but the proximity made it impossible for you not to notice every little thing—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of his hands through the gloves, and the way his dark eyes stayed intently on his work.

lost in his task, felix leaned in further, his breath ghosting over your exposed skin. his knuckles brushed the outside of your underwear, a touch so light it could have been accidental, but it sent a jolt through you. the sensations from the needle—the sharpness, the vibrations—only seemed to amplify the growing heat in your core. you pressed your lips together, willing yourself to stay still, but the ache was becoming impossible to ignore.

as felix adjusted his position, his hand grazed just slightly closer, his knuckles brushing against your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. the contact was brief but electric, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it. the sound was barely audible over the hum of the tattoo machine, but felix froze instantly, his head snapping up.

his dark eyes locked onto yours, a mix of concern and something unspoken flashing across his face. “you okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine care as he set the machine down on the tray beside him. his gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of distress.

your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. the weight of the situation hit you all at once—the intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability of being in this position with someone like felix, and the fact that he had noticed your reaction. you nodded quickly, your face burning as you tried to steady your breathing. "yeah, i’m fine," you said, your voice a little higher than usual, betraying your flustered state.

felix’s brows knitted together briefly, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. he tilted his head slightly, his tone softening even further. "you sure? we can take a break if you need."

you swallowed hard, shaking your head more firmly this time. "no, really, i’m okay. just... sensitive, i guess." you gave a nervous laugh, hoping to brush it off.

felix’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile, though there was still something unreadable lingering in his expression. "alright," he said gently. "but if anything feels uncomfortable, you let me know, okay?"

you nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment as he returned to his work. his focus shifted back to the tattoo, but the tension in the air felt heavier now, charged with an energy neither of you acknowledged. you closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay composed, though the sensation of his hands and the steady vibrations made it a challenge you weren’t sure you’d win.

throughout the duration of the tattoo session, you tried your best to maintain a calm composure, hiding the telltale signs of your arousal as you and felix talked about random things. but felix could see and smell it all too clearly. the scent of your desire wafted through the air, filling his senses and causing an immediate reaction in his jeans. his member began to thicken and strain against the fabric, already tight on its own.

though he knew he needed to remain professional, the sight and smell of your arousal was impossible to resist. he couldn't help but lean in closer, selfishly inhaling more of your intoxicating scent as he worked deftly on your skin. as his breath brushed against your core, a shiver ran down your spine.

but then he caught a glimpse of your slick glistening through your panties, and he almost let out an audible groan. it was clear that you were completely turned on by him and his touch, and he couldn't resist pushing the boundaries just a little further. 

you squirmed slightly, the movement catching his attention. "still doing okay?" felix asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. the words were laced with a subtle edge, a hint of something more.

"y-yeah," you stammered, your voice unsteady. your face felt hot, and you avoided his gaze, knowing that if you looked at him now, you might lose whatever shred of composure you had left.

felix's lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he refocused on the tattoo. he told himself to stop, to keep this professional, but the temptation was maddening. his hand brushed against your thigh again, his knuckles grazing higher this time, and he swore he felt you shiver.

he glanced up, his dark eyes locking with yours. the room felt unbearably small, the air thick with tension. felix hesitated, his professionalism warring with the primal desire that had been building since the session began.

he leaned back slightly, setting the tattoo machine down. his gloves flexed as he adjusted them, his voice soft but firm when he finally spoke. "you’re... really sensitive here," he said, his words carrying more weight than their innocent meaning should have.

you swallowed hard, your breath quickening. "yeah, i guess so," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix leaned in again, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath. "if this gets too much for you... or if you need anything, just say the word," he said, his tone almost daring you to admit what he already knew.

the tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken desire. felix's hand had just brushed your slick panties again, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when you jolted slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips. your body was trembling, the sensations overwhelming as your arousal built to a point where you could barely think straight.

"felix," you breathed, your voice unsteady as you placed a hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. "i... i need a second."

he froze immediately, his dark eyes snapping up to meet yours, filled with concern. his hand withdrew gently, and he sat back slightly, giving you space. "are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with worry.

you nodded quickly, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing. "yeah, i’m just... it’s a lot," you admitted, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. you couldn’t meet his gaze, but when you glanced down, you caught sight of the prominent bulge in his jeans, straining against the fabric. your breath hitched at the realization, and your eyes darted back up to his.

felix followed your gaze and cursed under his breath, running a gloved hand through his dark hair. "i’m sorry," he murmured, his voice rougher now. he shifted slightly, as if trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it was no use.

your heart raced at his words, a mix of embarrassment and intrigue flooding through you. "felix..." you started, your voice trembling.

he leaned closer, his gaze locking onto yours, his expression equal parts hesitant and desperate. "if this is too much, we can stop," he said, his tone sincere. "but... if you want, i can help you." his words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

your lips parted, your mind spinning at the offer. "help me?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know what i mean." he said, his voice dropping an octave, "i can take care of it. only if you want me to." his gloved hand rested lightly on your thigh, his touch both comforting and suggestive, and his eyes were pleading.

you hesitated, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you considered his words. the ache between your legs was unbearable, and the thought of his skilled hands—or more—bringing you relief was almost too tempting to resist. but the intensity of the moment, the sheer intimacy of what he was offering, made you pause.

"only if you’re sure," felix added, his voice softer now. "i don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with."

you gave him a nod, your voice wavering. “words, y/n.” he said, setting the tool down and taking his gloves off. “i-i’m sure,” you said nervously.

that was all felix needed. he yanked off his gloves, tossing them aside in a hurry. a growl rumbled low in his chest as he leaned in, his hand sliding higher along your thigh, skimming the edge of your panties. his lips were tantalizingly close to your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. 

his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your panties, a teasing, feather-light touch that made you gasp softly. felix smirked, his eyes darkening as he saw the effect he had on you. "so wet," he murmured, his thumb pressing lightly against your clit through the fabric, drawing a whimper from your lips. "is this all for me?"

you nodded, your body arching into his touch as a soft moan escaped you. felix groaned, leaning down to press his lips against your thigh, his kisses slow and deliberate.

 he tugged your panties aside, exposing you fully to his gaze. your pretty lips were glistening, sopping wet with your essence. his eyes drank you in, and he licked his lips before looking up at you. "i want to make you feel good," he said, his voice husky with need. "will you let me?"

"please," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

felix didn’t hesitate. he dropped to his knees in front of the chair, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer to the edge. 

his touch was gentle and careful as he moved your thighs apart, mindful not to disturb your freshly inked skin. with one hand holding your panties to the side and the other spreading your lips open, he marveled at the sight between your legs. "fuck, you're so wet," he murmured before leaning in for a taste.

the sensation of his tongue piercing against your sensitive flesh caught you by surprise, but it was a welcomed one. a wave of satisfaction rippled through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit with skilled precision. your hand found its way to his head, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging occasionally in pleasure. he looked up at you, a hand running along the inside of your thigh as he lavished attention on your bud.

a deep growl rumbled from his chest as he buried his face deeper into your cunt, sucking and licking with fervent desire. you couldn't hold back the loud moan that escaped your lips or the way your body arched towards him. "just like that," you praised him through heavy breaths, hips bucking against his face desperately.

it was too much. the sight of felix between your legs, his nose buried in your mound and the wet, sloppy noises of him eating you out sent a sharp pang to your core. with a few more sucks from his mouth, you came undone - stars exploding behind closed eyes and pleasure coursing through every inch of your body. felix eagerly lapped up every drop of you, not pulling away until you gently guided his head off of you.

he stood up in front of you, smiling down with pride and lust in his eyes. "feeling better?" he asked playfully. you could only nod, cheeks flushed darkly from the intense encounter that had just occurred. your gaze drifted down to the prominent bulge in his jeans, knowing that he needed release too. "let me help you," you muttered, eagerly reaching for him.

felix’s grin faltered for a moment as your words sank in. his dark eyes widened slightly, and then his smirk returned, this time tinged with a hint of surprise and desire. "you don’t have to do that," he said softly, though the way his voice betrayed just how much he wanted you to.

you swallowed hard, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, but your gaze remained fixed on the straining bulge in his jeans. the thought of him, thick and hard, made your core clench again. you shook your head, your voice steadier now. "i want to."

felix’s jaw tightened, and he let out a low groan, as though he was fighting every instinct he had. "are you sure?" he asked, his hands flexing at his sides. "this wasn’t supposed to go this far. i... i don’t want you to feel pressured."

you stood slowly from the chair, your knees still a little shaky, but your determination unwavering. your hands reached for his belt, and when you looked up at him, your eyes were full of intent. "i’m sure, felix," you said softly, your fingers working the buckle open. 

he let out a sharp breath, his restraint snapping as he nodded. "fuck," he muttered, his hands coming to rest on your hips. "i’m not going to hold back, then."

with that, felix helped guide you as you undid his jeans, his cock springing free, the sight making your breath catch. he was surprisingly thick, the head flushed and already leaking precum, and the sheer size of him only made your arousal spark anew. felix leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pulled you flush against him. 

“bend over that counter for me.” he instructed you, patting your barely clothed ass. you did just that, bending over the counter and arching your back for him slightly. he yanked your panties to the side again, getting behind you hurriedly. he rubbed his fat tip against your wet lips, coating himself with a groan. he pushed himself inside you slowly, as if savoring every inch being swallowed by your cunt. each second of his cock filling you was pure bliss; he felt divine. 

he buried himself to the hilt, a low, throaty groan leaving his lips. he ran his hands up your back, catching your shoulder to pull you back against him. “oh, you feel so good,” he grunted, slowly pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt. he lifted your leg carefully, helping you rest it on the counter so he could fuck you better. 

his hands roamed your body as he fucked into you, one of them resting in the crevice of your thighs and your hip, squeezing into your flesh. he sped up quickly, rutting into you with low growls and curses. his thick tip massaged your g-spot so deliciously, making a pit form deep in your stomach. you whined loudly, crying out in bliss as he stretched you fully.

felix abruptly halted when he heard a sharp knock at his door, and he cursed under his breath. "i'm with a client," he hollered, his hands still kneading your flesh while he paused inside you. the sound of footsteps retreating from outside his door made him exhale heavily with relief. he quickly returned to thrusting into you with renewed vigor, the thrill of almost getting caught fueling his actions. 

as he continued to fuck you senseless, you whimpered in excitement, knowing that any minute someone could walk in on you both. "you almost got us caught," felix growled, increasing his pace to an unrelenting one as he whispered dirty words in your ear. the possibility of being caught only heightened the intense pleasure pulsating through your body, and you couldn't help but moan louder with each powerful thrust.

felix moaned loudly as your pussy tightened around him, fluttering and milking him with every delicious movement. "f-fucking...shit, you're gonna make me cum already," he choked out hoarsely. his fingers dug into your skin now and his hips were moving quickly and urgently as he chased his release.

your ass slapped against his waist, the loud clapping sounds echoing in the room. "cum in me," you whimpered, glancing back at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes. he didn't need to be told twice and obliged, your words sending him over the edge in no time. with a deep growl, he threw his head back and bit his lip as he emptied himself inside of you. he pumped you full with his load, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum.

you whined in pleasure, your eyes fluttering closed as he continued to thrust slowly in and out of you, mixing his release with your own essence. his gaze never left where your bodies were connected, as if he was in a trance from how thoroughly fucked out he was. 

he finally pulled out wetly, helping you stand back upright. “are you okay?” he asked, tucking himself away quickly and helping you fix your panties. you nodded, still dazed from the thorough fucking he gave you. “yeah, th-thanks for helping me,” you looked up at him, a dark blush on your face. 

he grinned and zipped his pants back up. “don’t mention it,” he nodded toward the chair. “should we continue?”

needless to say, you continued. and you definitely would be coming back.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[opalici0us]

I Dare You || Ryomen Sukuna

| pairings- Sukuna x fem!reader

synopsis- Two weeks of no sex is too much for poor Sukuna.

content- 18+ MNDI, smut, mean Sukuna, unrealistic car sex (classic handprint), unprotected sex, p in v, MAKEUP SEX, Sukuna is a bit rough, spit, soft Sukuna at the end, fingering, pet names (babe, pretty, my girl), established relationship

wc-2.1k

a/n: I am a whore for Sukuna :(((

Sukuna knew you were stubborn when you first started dating. You hated backing down and always had to have the last word. Sukuna thought it was hot for the most part until you guys got into a fight that has lasted almost two weeks. Two weeks of sleeping on the couch in your shared home, two weeks of non-stop belittling and snarky comments, and most importantly two weeks of no sex. 

To many people, Sukuna's desperation sounded ridiculous but they didn’t get it. You two were extremely sexually active, almost fucking every day. Sukuna felt like he was going crazy, not only was he pissed and hurt but he was extremely horny. No amount of jerking off and porn can live up to your warm n’ tight little cunt. 

When he’d see you in nothing but one of his t-shirts, or those cute sundresses he bought you, and especially those damn short skirts, he wanted nothing more than just to back down and apologize first so he could be balls deep inside you. It wasn’t that easy. Anytime he’d try you’d stop him. 

“What are you doing…?” You immediately paused as you felt Sukuna wrap his arms around your waist, not even trying to be subtle about the massive problem currently pressed right against you. You felt him grind his massive erection right against you, a low not-so-subtle grunt escaping from his throat.

 “Nothin’, you just look so fuckin’ sexy in this dress. This is the one I got ya’, right?” He whispered right against your ear, making chills go up your spine. It took everything in your body not to give in to him. His tongue ventured out, licking the lobe of your ear. A soft puff of frustration left your lips.

 “You gonna apologize, hmm?” Your tone was fiery as ever. Sukuna stopped his tormenting and rolled his eyes. “Now go away, I’m trying to do the dishes.” You ripped his arms off of you. Trying your best to ignore the arousal pooling in your panties. 

“God, you’re so stubborn, I don’t even know what I have to apologize for! I’ll just go fuck myself then!” Sukuna spat and stormed off to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind him, rattling the house. 

Rolling your eyes at him, really wishing he was making your eyes roll back from his cock. You went back to your original task. As you were finally back in the zone with no thoughts in mind, loud groans could be heard…coming from the bathroom.

You drop the plate you were washing back into the sink. As if your feet had a mind of their own, you made your way to the bathroom, placing your ear against the cold door. “Mmm fuuuck, just like Y/N, wanna make a mess on your face.” You heard your boyfriend's muffled groans, the bastard was doing it on purpose. 

You scoff silently, as much as you wanted to ignore him but you couldn’t ignore the heartbeat felt down there. Sighing in frustration, you squeeze your thighs together to bring some relief to your poor untouched clit. Sukuna continued his sultry groans, babbling out “Lemme fill you up baby.” and “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

Of course, when he came out he had that damn smirk on his face. The kind you wanted to slap off his face, Sukuna was truly going to drive you insane.

The two of you were currently standing inside Yuuji's place for a housewarming party. The smell of cheap liquor and weed filled the air, the scent mixed was almost sickening. Though you and Sukuna couldn’t bother to care. 

“We are not doing this here, Sukuna.” You spat at him. It was barely 10 minutes of being here and you and Sukuna were already fighting in the corner of the living room. His large frame, cornering you against the wall. 

“Doing what Y/N?” He spoke sarcastically, a smirk etched onto his lips.

 “I mean it, I refuse to fight with you in front of your brother and his friends.” You tried to move but he leaned in, successfully trapping you. 

“I’m just saying, I would have preferred if you didn’t wear this skirt here.” He said, lowly. 

“Are we really going to argue about this right now?” You scoffed, an amused smile adorned your face.

“Don’t play dumb with me right now,” He grabbed your chin. “This skirt is so damn short, you could bend over and everyone could see your fucking pussy,” Sukuna furrowed his eyebrows together. “It’s like you wore it on purpose, fuckin’ attention whore, you’re embarrassing me,” He bit his tongue back realizing the words that just came from his mouth, especially seeing the look on your face. Your mouth was opened slightly, and your eyes widened. That familiar lump forming in your throat. You swiftly pushed past him and walked out of the house, Sukuna was close behind on your heels.

“Y/N, c’mon babe! I didn’t mean it like that.” He held onto your arm.

 “Then what did you mean it like then?” You ripped your arm from his grasp, turning around to face him as you two stood under the street lights.

 “We haven’t had sex in two weeks Y/N! We can’t even be in a room together without fighting! Can you blame me? You’re beautiful and everyone can see that, are you even attracted to me anymore?!” Sukuna berated you, raising his voice. 

“Of course, I’m still attracted to you!” You defended yourself, trying to reassure him. 

“Sure, doesn’t feel like it, Y/N,” Sukuna rubbed his face. You could see the frustration written in bold in his expression. “I don’t even know why we are fighting… Are you trying to push me away? Break up with me?” Sukuna looked down, not wanting you to see him look so weak.

“No! Sukuna…I don’t want to break up.” You hesitantly reached out to him, only for him to back away. 

“Then why are you acting like such a bitch?!” Sukuna finally broke, his sadness turning into rage.

 “Excuse me? You have no room to talk! You’re such a dick Sukuna!” You yelled back at him, feeling tears brim your eyes. “You can’t even apologize!” You looked up at him, fighting the urge to break down in front of him.

“What am I supposed to apologize for?” Sukuna stepped towards you, getting into your face. 

“You’re so insufferable,” You spat at him. “Maybe I do want to break up.” You said looking straight into his eyes. 

“Yeah? Then fuckin’ do it, I dare you.” Sukuna inched closer to your face, you could feel his hot breath.

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” 

In a matter of seconds, your lips were smashed together, his tongue invading your mouth while your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life. His hands tangled in your hair. You bit down on his bottom lip, a growl escaping from his mouth. He removed his hands from your head to your waist, trying to be as close to you as possible. You felt his hard cock pressing against you, making you moan, instinctively you brought your hand down to palm him through his jeans.

“Oh fuck!” He groaned. “Want me fuck ya? Hmm?” He smacked your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Get in the car.” He demanded and pulled the keys out to unlock it. He crawled into the passenger seat, scooting and leaning the seat back as far as he could get it. 

 “C’mere pretty,” Sukuna pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle him. He slammed the car door shut, maintaining eye contact with you. His hands dipped between your legs, rubbing your mound through your panties. “You soaked through your panties, ha-ah!”

He pulled your panties to the side running his fingers between your folds. You moan loudly, his rough skin sending tingles throughout your body. He started to teasingly rub your clit, barely giving it any stimulation. He moved down your slit once again, probing your tight little entrance. Slipping two fingers inside, thrusting in n’ out at a painfully slow speed.

“P-please Kuna, feel s’ good, w-want more.” Desperate whimpers spilling from your mouth. Your hands clinging onto his biceps to keep your upper body stable. Sukuna's fingers pick up speed, creating loud ‘squelch’ sounds from your wet cunt. 

“Fuckin’ pathetic, got this pussy so sloppy just from kissing.” He said cockily, acting like his dick wasn’t about to burst through the zipper of his jeans. 

“S-shut up, I see t-the wet spot on your jeans.” You smirked and motioned to the spot of pre-cum, seeping through his boxers onto his jeans. 

A scowl formed on Sukunas face, he pulled his hand back and swiftly smacked your pussy, making you yelp. “Yeah? You like pissin’ me off, don’t you?” He landed another harsh smack before, shoving two fingers into your tight hole. You gasped loudly at the feeling, his fingers curling into your sensitive spot, over and over again.

“I…I’m g-gonna cum nngh, if you k-keep doing t-that.” Your legs were trembling with pleasure, a knot forming in your stomach. Your orgasm was so close. Then he stopped…

“I don’t think so,” He chuckled and removed his fingers from your wet warmth. “Want you to cum on my cock, can you do that for me, ride this cock?” His tone was menacing, hiding the desperation in his words. 

“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” A little pout on your lips. He chuckled and started to unbutton his jeans, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard length, hidden underneath his boxers. What you’ve been craving for two weeks now. 

Impatiently you reached down to help him, hands fumbling with the waistband. “Impatient? Huh?” Sukuna chuckled, a smirk on his face. His massive member finally free. “Want you to ride me, you know how I like it.” He demanded and helped you guide your hips onto his length. Pulling your skirt up to your waist to watch your bodies connect.

“Shittt, s’ big Kuna.” You squeezed your eyes shut. Never getting used to his size.

“Tsk, this slutty pussy seems to take me fine all those other times, don’t lie to me now.” Sukuna shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. There was an undertone in his words. With no warnings, he thrusted up into you. 

“Oh fuck!” You yelped, his cockhead kissing your cervix perfectly. “D-don’t do that!” You were unable to protest, despite Sukuna saying he wanted YOU to ride him; he's doing all the work.

“Fuck! Always so tight….shittt!” He babbled on and on. His hands dug into your waist, holding you in place so he could violently pound his cock into you with no mercy. His tip was brushing against the bundle of nerves that makes you go crazy. “Yesyesyes, ohmy- Sukuna!” Your screams of pleasure only flued him more.

“Just w-wanna fuck you good, show how I missed fuckin’ my girl.” He groaned loudly. Unable to comprehend anything but the pleasure you’re feeling, your mouth falls open, the drool spilling out, dripping down your chin. Sukuna leans up, his tongue coming out to lick the liquid up.

“Y-you’re s-so sick.” You managed to choke out. Sukuna pulled you down with him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The pace of his thrust never died down, if anything they picked up. The sudden new intensity made him much deeper than before. “So f-fuckin deep Kuna.” 

Your hand slammed against the foggy window, creating a nice hand print. 

“I’m sorry Y/N…m’ really sorry baby.” He suddenly slowed his pace down. His rough grip loosened, hands migrated down to your hips, encouraging you to take over.

Silently you complied, moving against him in circular motions. “N-no I’m sorry, mmph, baby.” You whimpered and pressed your forehead against his. “I s-should have just talked…t-to you.” Your body began to shake again. Your orgasm was creeping up.

“I don’t wanna b-break up.” He admits, his red eyes gazing into yours. “I love you.” He slowly began to thrust back into you, meeting your hips halfway. “Don’t wanna fight with you anymore.” He sounded so desperate.

“I love you too.” Your lips met his for a soft kiss, humming at the feeling. Your release was so close, your walls started to pulse around him. “M’ gonna cum.” Sukuna's ears perked up, he almost came just from hearing your words and feeling the way you squeezed so tightly around him. 

“Yeah? Me too, cum with me baby,” He picked up the pace once again. “Milk this cock.” Heavy groans coming from him. His cum painting your tight walls, your own orgasm hitting you. Pulsating around him, milking every drop of his release. “So good baby, that’s it…” He cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your hips. 

“I forgive you by the way…” You kissed his forehead. 

“Let me eat that pretty pussy first and I’ll forgive you too.”

“Sukuna!”

“Just kidding…”

[whorefordean]

attitude adjustment || r.c

wc: 1.7k

cw: mean rafe, reader is kinda bratty, rafe calls reader a bitch, a yummy headlock (will be putting this into every fic probs), p in v sex, unprotected sex, pussy slaps, slight cockwarming

MDNI 18+

rafe sleeps soundly beside you, and that alone is enough to make you hate him. well, not actually hate him, but still. his strong arm is draped across your hip, hand splayed flat across your stomach. his rings glint in the subtle glow of the moonlight.

most people would see this as an act of endearment, however, rafe decided to hold true to his promise of punishing you.

"been such a fucking brat this week, and i'm not in the mood to deal with you," rafe had scolded you earlier in the day while squeezing your cheeks together with a firm grip. you had simply pouted, knowing that eventually he would deal with it by fucking the attitude out of you.

wishful thinking.

it had been three hours since that ordeal and two since rafe had gone to sleep. in those two hours, you'd tossed and turned, secretly hoping it would wake rafe up. apparently, you hadn't lost the attitude, even if the day was over.

as you rolled over again to face rafe, you caved. you trailed your hand up his bare chest.

"rafe?" you whispered softly. you waited a moment, watching as he remained unbothered and peaceful. damn him.

as your arousal built and your panties got wetter, you got more desperate. you slipped your leg over his hip, trying to wedge yourself as close as possible to him.

"rafe!" you pleaded for him to wake up. this time, a groan echoed throughout the room. his hand slipped up your leg, resting on your ass right below your tiny shorts.

"still got a fucking attitude," he grumbled in annoyance. you whined causing him to grip onto you tighter. finally opening his eyes, rafe glared at you.

"what do you want? huh?" rafe asked meanly. you pouted up at him as you began placing soft pecks against his bare chest, slowly making your way up his neck.

you shift until your straddling rafe’s hips, his hand still tucked possessively under your shorts. you whine when your hips shift against his as you lean down to his ear.

“need you, rafe,” you tell him quietly, kissing his cheek slowly. rafe groans.

“huh uh. been such a bitch to me lately. for no reason. not gonna reward you for your bad fucking behavior,” rafe scolds you tiredly. anger rises in you as you sit up. crossing your arms over your chest, you glare at him.

“well, maybe, i wouldn’t be acting like such a bitch if you fucked me good-“ you start to blame him. it’s a lie you don’t get to finish because rafe cuts you off.

“i dare you to finish that fucking sentence. if i wasn’t fucking you good enough, you wouldn’t be waking me up right now. wouldn’t be rubbing that wet pussy against my fucking cock, begging me to fuck you to sleep. such a fucking needy brat,” rafe hisses, slapping your ass roughly. you gape at him, half shocked half angered, because he’s right.

“you’re being mean!” you nearly yell at him. you try to grind yourself against him again but rafe holds your hips still for a minute before shoving you off of him.

“rafe!” you yelp as you tumble back to your side of the bed. rafe is quick to pounce on you, pressing your chest firmly into the mattress. his legs barricade your thighs, and you can feel his half hard cock against your ass. your hips lift, but rafe shoved them back down.

“wanna get fucked? hm? that gonna fix that fucking attitude? fine. i’ll fuck you. i'll make you feel good so that maybe next time, you’ll use your fucking words instead of bitching and whining all goddamn day,” rafe grits out as he rips your shorts down your legs. you gasp once at the cold air hitting your bare cunt, then again when rafe shoves your shirt up and yanks it over your head.

“rafe!” you yelp when rafe moves himself just enough to yank your hips up and give your dripping pussy a harsh slap.

“quit. start complaining and i’ll have to stuff that throat. you’ll take what i give you, brat,” rafe grunts, slapping your wetness again. pouting, you nod anyways.

rafe’s fingers linger near your clit, and it’s an effort to not grind yourself against his thick fingers. the bedsheets are wrinkled in your hands as you try to calm your breathing and keep your attitude in check. the temptation is there, but you refrain from begging him for something. anything.

finally, rafe sinks two of his fingers into you. a soft moan echoes out of your lips as your eyes flutter shut. before you can relish in the feeling for too long, rafe stops. he keeps his fingers buried inside you, but he doesn’t move. you wait. nothing. lifting yourself up, you turn to face rafe. your breath hitches when your movement causes his fingers to shift.

“rafe? please do something,” you beg him softly, mind reeling with need. at this point, you don’t care about keeping up the attitude. the need for his cock to be buried in you is too much to resist.

“oh, now that i’ve got my fingers in you, you’ll be nice? hm? i wanted to spend all night in this fucking pussy, but that fucking attitude…” rafe trails off, watching the way you shift your hips slightly, trying to thrust against his fingers.

“i’ll be better. promise, rafe,” you mumble when you notice the way he’s staring so intently at your exposed core. rafe thrusts his fingers a few times, watching as you match him with your own thrusts.

“you gonna work for it?” he mumbles. your hips falter but not from pleasure. you wanted rafe to do the work. wanted rafe to put you in your place. not make you do all the work even if it is your orgasm at stake here. rafe notices your hesitation and laughs darkly.

“no, i guess you wouldn’t. need me to do all the work to make sure you feel good. ain’t that right?” rafe teases. you open your mouth to respond, but he stops you. 

"if the next words out of your mouth aren't thank you, rafe, then don't say anything," rafe grunts as he pushes his fingers further into your cunt.

"thank you, rafe!" you gasp, lifting your hips slightly in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

"that's it, baby," rafe hums under his breath. your eyes snap shut when rafe's thumb starts toying with your needy clit. a whine rumbles from your throat as you tilt your head, trying to bury your sounds into the mattress. rafe grips your hair, tilting your head back until he can hear you better.

"don't fucking hide from me. you been begging for this," rafe snaps. his fingers slip out of you unexpectedly. you cry out, eyes snapping open as you look back at him. the pout on your face mixed with the pleading look in your eyes almost has him apologizing even if you deserve his meanness.

"need you, rafe," you whine, lifting your hips again. this time, rafe lets you grind your exposed pussy against his covered cock. your fingers ache, white knuckling the sheets under you. rafe's heavy hand is gripping your stuttering hips, and you can hear the breathy moans he's letting out.

"fuck, baby," rafe grunts. he stops your hips again, and you almost push him off of you, so you can finish the job yourself. you refrain though because an orgasm by yourself? wonderful. an orgasm given to you by rafe? fucking heavenly.

"rafe, please," you whine. rafe mumbles something along the lines of fucking impatient, but you ignore him, too focused on finding release.

you almost beg him again, but then rafe is slipping his hardened cock into you. you gnaw on your lip as he settles fully inside your aching walls.

this might be heaven, you think as rafe leans down to kiss your jaw. the action is a complete one eighty from his previous, but you don't object to it. you sigh in relief when he finally starts pumping his cock into you, slowly at first.

then, he's bottoming out repeatedly until your gasping for a single fucking breath. you grip at his arm beside your head, but rafe moves it out of your grasp before gripping your hand in his. your eyes lull shut as rafe continues to prove you wrong.

he had never been bad at fucking you, but you have always had an attitude problem.

rafe readjusts, lowering himself until his mouth is directly beside your ear.

"this what you wanted?" rafe asks quietly, slowing his thrusts while he deepens them. you nod, mind going blank when rafe slips his arm around you. he settles his bicep under your throat, effectively putting you in a headlock as he slips deeper into you.

"fuck, rafe. thank you," you pant. his hand leaves yours to rub at your clit. you moan out, your orgasm approaching. rafe fucks you through it, only using the slick to further your pleasure. you grip at rafe's bicep when he doesn't stop, even after you've cum.

"rafe, i can't-"

"you will," rafe interrupts. his voice is rough when he says it, and you almost beg him to keep going. he must have hear the thought because he doesn't slow down, continuing to fuck you even as you tremble under him. you try to push your hips further into the mattress, but rafe follows you. your eyes roll back in pleasure.

your second orgasm approaches faster than the last, and you can't stop the moans falling from your lips. you pry rafe's arm from around your throat. well, you attempt to pry his arm away.

his grip is firm as he finally spills his cum into your cunt. you pant when he finally slows down before fully stopping.

the two of you sit in silence, rafe still holding you tight in his grip. your cheek rests against rafe's bicep as you lay there, finally satisfied after being perpetually horny for the last week.

"thank you, rafe," you pant. rafe hums in acceptance.

"gotta learn how to fucking communicate, baby," rafe mumbles tiredly. you nod against him. rafe settles his weight against you, and it feels so good. so comforting. his cock is still buried comfortably inside you as the two of you drift off.

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ lando masterlist

-----------------••✩🍪☕️🩹✩••----------------

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛

✩ : your boyfriend wants to play strip poker on your flight back home: what could possibly go wrong?

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lando norris

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : mature, humor

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,2k

✍︎ : the temptation took over

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

“Strip poker?”

You were slouched on one of the luxurious leather seats of the private jet that was bringing you and Lando back to London, your legs lounged over his lap as he drew lazy circles on your skin with his thumb, when that, quote unquote, “brilliant” idea had popped into his head.

“Yep,” he replied casually, totally unfazed by the skeptical and almost suspicious tone in your voice, completely ignoring your arched brow, his hands already dealing the cards on the table between the two of you.

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re scared,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he flashed you a grin.

You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Then a little playing won’t be a problem for you, will it?” Maybe it was the challenging glint in his eyes, or maybe you just wanted to wipe that mocking smirk right off his face, but you eventually gave in with a resigned sigh, though the look you gave him spoke loudly.

“You’re going down, Norris.”

“Oh, I hope so,” he winked, after giving you a not-so-subtle once‐over, biting down on his lower lip in an effort to suppress a smug smirk. The match hadn’t even started yet, and he’d already turned you into a blushing mess.

The first few hands went by smoothly, both of you losing your socks and shoes almost immediately — Lando claiming it was all part of his “strategy”. But as the game continued, his confidence seemed to falter, the realization that maybe that wasn’t such a great idea crystal clear in his now very much distressed gaze.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” you teased him, the struggle on his face making it harder not to laugh.

“Big words for someone who's about to lose this hand,” he shot back, laying down his cards with an annoyingly wide grin tugging at his lips. “Straight flush.”

“Damn it,” you muttered, shrugging off your hoodie in one swift motion and tossing it in his face, his chuckle muffled under the soft fabric. But when he saw what you were actually wearing underneath, his laugh quickly died down, his breath hitching.

“No shirt?” His voice was low, hoarse even, almost as if he’d been talking too much — except he hadn’t. He must had noticed too, because he cleared his throat as he shifted in his place, his gaze lingering a moment too long on the lace bra that barely covered your chest.

“It’s comfier this way,” you answered with a casual shrug, trying to play it cool despite the way your skin tingled under his attention.

“Uh-huh.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, making it clear that he’d seen your reaction, but surprisingly enough he didn’t say anything, focusing back on the game as if nothing had happened. However, his luck didn’t last long, as you showed a winning hand, mocking the smug expression he’d now lost.

“Off with the shirt, Norris,” you nodded toward his white button-up, arms crossed as you — impatiently — waited for him to remove it. He took his sweet time, his eyes never leaving yours as he loosened the buttons one after the other, the anticipation almost painful.

“Happy now?” he asked as he finally discarded the shirt, his mischievous tone immediately sending alarm bells ringing in your head — which, needless to say, you shamelessly ignored.

“Thrilled,” you replied with the straightest face you managed to pull, though you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander briefly over his toned body.

“Eyes up here,” he snapped his fingers at you before pointing them back to his face, an absolutely devilish grin plastered on it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you rolled your eyes at him, but the faint blush that painted your cheeks gave you away.

The next few rounds were a blur. You couldn’t stop glancing at him, the way his chest caught the light that streamed through the jet windows, or how his arms flexed every time he leaned forward. And, apparently, the same went for Lando. Until…

“Full house.” You displayed your cards on the table for him to see, trying and miserably failing to bite back the triumphant smile that was slowly creeping on your face.

“This is rigged,” he declared, slumping in his seat as he slammed his own cards down in frustration.

“Or maybe you just suck,” you cooed sweetly, chin rested on your hands.

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned, leaning back in his chair — and then it happened. At first, you didn’t realize what he was doing, but when you saw his hands falling down to his lap and starting to unbuckle his pants you froze, your throat suddenly dry.

“Baby.” His voice was barely audible, the sound drowned out by the noise of your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“What?” you breathed out, so low that for a moment you thought he hadn’t caught it.

“You wanna help?” It wasn’t a question — not really: it was an invitation, one he knew you wouldn’t refuse. Slowly, you stood, rounding the table and stopping right in front of him. You felt his gaze burning holes into your skin as he followed your every move, before meeting yours with an intensity that stole your breath away.

His hands found your hips, guiding you down onto him until you were straddling his lap, your knees sinking in the plush seat as you placed your palms on his shoulders to steady yourself. Then, glances still intertwined, you lightly brushed your fingers along his bare chest and trailed them down his abs, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.

By the time your hands reached for his belt, Lando’s breathing had become erratic, the sight of him unraveling under your fingertips only spurring you on. Your hands moved deliberately slow as you worked on the buckle, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you savored the moment — your personal revenge for the show he’d put on not long before.

When you “casually” grazed the skin just above the waistband of his pants he inhaled sharply, his hands sliding down to your thighs to give them a warning squeeze. “Careful,” he hissed, his body jerking away from yours at the sudden contact.

“I’m just helping you out. That’s what you wanted, right?” you asked, feigning innocence, though the heat in your touch told a very different story.

The metal clicked as you finally loosened his belt, its cool leather smooth against your palms, and before Lando even had the chance to say anything, you undid the button of his pants with a flick of your fingers, tugging the zipper down right after. That was it for him.

His hands ran up to your sides, anchoring you to his lap as his mouth flew to yours, the kiss urgent as he tasted your lips like a starved man, exploring every inch of them with his tongue. There was no trace left of the subtle teasing that had been lingering in the air until then, replaced by a raw need that left you wanting more after you pulled away, both breathless and flushed.

“Next time,” you panted as Lando immediately started working his way down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your throat, “we’re playing Monopoly.”

-----------------••✩🍪☕️🩹✩••----------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[connorsui]

Behind Closed Doors

Prohero Katsuki x reader

Genre/Warnings: Domestic Fluff, soft moments, slight emotional variability for katsuki, katsukis attitude

Synopsis: —his love for you is hidden in the small, everyday acts of affection.

Note: I like to imagine katsuki becoming a completely different person when he's left alone with you 🍒

w.c: 2,211

The difference in Katsuki’s behavior always caught you off guard, no matter how long you’d been together. In public, he stormed through crowds with an intensity that left everyone around him on edge. His voice would rise above the noise, sharp and commanding, as he ordered others around or shut down any attempt at small talk with a single glare. He hated being slowed down and hated when people got in his way. But when his gaze flickered to you, just for a moment, there was something else—something quieter, softer, that only you could see.

It wasn’t that Katsuki toned it down in public—not by a long shot—but there was a certain way he carried himself when you were beside him. As if you were the exception to the rule, the one person he didn’t mind sticking around. Even when surrounded by fans or reporters, his body would instinctively angle toward you, a subtle shield between you and the world. His touch was always firm, but never rough, as though he was unconsciously protecting the one part of his life he wanted to keep safe from the chaos.

One night, after a particularly long day, Katsuki came home more irritable than usual. You heard it the moment the door slammed shut, his heavy boots stomping across the floor. He tossed his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink, his jaw tight, and his scowl deeper than normal.

“—fucking idiots…” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Can’t even do their damn jobs, right”

You watched him from the couch, knowing better than to approach him immediately when he was like this. Katsuki needed time to cool down to let the frustration simmer until it dulled. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. He was all bark out there, terrifying to anyone who crossed his path, but you knew that in just a few minutes, he’d come over, sit next to you, and let out that sigh—the one that meant he was done being a hero for the day.

And, just as expected, he did. After a few moments of grumbling to himself, Katsuki crossed the room and dropped down beside you with a huff, his head falling back against the couch cushions. You didn’t say anything, just reached out and placed your hand on his thigh, grounding him with a simple touch. His shoulders relaxed almost instantly, the tension melting away as he exhaled deeply.

“Rough day, huh?” you asked quietly, giving his leg a gentle squeeze.

“Tch. Yeah.” He closed his eyes, one hand covering his face. “Just sick of dealin’ with everybody out there all day.”

There was a pause, the room settling into a comfortable silence before he added, his voice quieter, almost sheepish, “Missed you…”

It was in those moments you realized how much he relied on you to recharge. He wasn’t the type to come home and fall apart, but there was a vulnerability in the way he leaned into you, even when he tried to play it off. Katsuki didn’t need grand gestures or declarations; he showed his love in the way he let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

Later that night, after you both settled into bed, Katsuki turned toward you, his movements slower, more deliberate as the day’s tension ebbed away. Without a word, he tugged you into his chest, his strong arm wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you close. The heat of his body seeped into yours, and the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat thudded softly beneath your ear. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as it brushed against your skin, sending a wave of comfort through you.

His grip was firm, possessive, but tender, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him grounded. For a long moment, he said nothing, just breathed you in, his hand tracing lazy circles on your lower back. Then, with quiet vulnerability, Katsuki’s voice rumbled softly against your neck, thick with the weight of sleep and affection he rarely voiced.

“Can’t stand anyone else… but you,” he mumbled, his lips brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “But with you… everything feels right.”

The words were so soft they could’ve easily been lost to the night, but in the quiet of your room, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Your heart swelled, warmth spreading through your chest at the rare, intimate admission. Turning in his arms, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth. Katsuki’s hold tightened instantly, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, as if the simple act of being this close wasn’t enough.

He exhaled deeply, the last of his tension melting away as he pulled you impossibly closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a whispered promise in the quiet. "Not without me."

In that moment, there was no one else in the world but the two of you—wrapped up in each other, his love woven into every touch, every breath, every heartbeat.

It was in these moments, when the world outside faded away and it was just the two of you tangled in the sheets, that you truly understood how much Katsuki cared. How deeply he loved, even if he didn’t always say it out loud. You saw it in the way he relaxed when you were near, the way his fiery temper cooled into something soft and unguarded, a side of him no one else ever got to see.

Katsuki might hate the world—hell, he made no secret of how unbearable he found most people—but when it came to you, it was different. You were the calm in his storm, the quiet he sought after the chaos of hero work. And in return, he gave you a side of himself no one else would ever know. That alone was enough to show you just how much he cherished you.

The next morning, you woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Katsuki moving around the kitchen. When you padded out, rubbing sleep from your eyes, you found him already dressed in his hero uniform, his back to you as he flipped something in a pan.

“You’re up early,” you remarked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, well,” he grunted, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Figured I’d make you breakfast before I head out. Can’t have you starvin’ while I’m out dealin’ with idiots, can I?”

You laughed, moving over to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek to his broad back. “I love you, Katsuki.”

“Tch… love you too,” he muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

The warmth of Katsuki’s back against your cheek, combined with the rich smell of breakfast, made you want to stay wrapped around him for the rest of the morning. You lingered there for a moment longer, savoring the rare quiet before he had to face the demands of the day.

He turned off the burner with a sharp flick of his wrist, then nudged you gently with his elbow, his tone playfully gruff. “Go sit down, idiot. I made all this for you, not so you could just stand around and get in the way.”

You smiled at the familiar edge to his words, knowing the affection that lay underneath. “Okay, okay,” you teased, stepping back and heading to the table. As you sat down, Katsuki brought over a plate piled with perfectly golden toast, eggs cooked just the way you liked them, and a small portion of your favorite fruit. The meal was simple, but you could feel the care in every detail.

He placed the plate in front of you, then leaned down, brushing a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading back to the kitchen to grab his own breakfast. “Eat up,” he said over his shoulder, his voice softer than before.

You dug in, and the taste of the food, combined with Katsuki’s quiet gestures of love, made your chest feel full. It wasn’t grand or elaborate, but that was what made it so special—the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, sharing something as simple as breakfast.

As Katsuki sat down across from you, he kept glancing up from his plate, watching you eat with a soft expression that only you ever got to see. He didn’t say much, just occasionally asked if you needed more coffee or wanted another piece of toast. There was a contentment in the air, one that spoke of a love that didn’t need constant words to be understood.

When the meal was finished, you stood to clear the table, but Katsuki stopped you with a firm hand on your wrist. “I got it,” he grumbled, already starting to collect the dishes.

You tilted your head at him, a smile playing at your lips. “You’re spoiling me today, Katsuki.”

“Tch. Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though there was a teasing glint in his eye. “Just thought I’d do somethin’ nice before I head out and have to deal with all those extras.”

His words made you laugh, and the sound seemed to soften the lines of his face even more. Katsuki wasn’t a man of many words when it came to expressing his feelings, but in moments like these, you didn’t need them. The way he made breakfast, the way he took care of the dishes, and the way he kept checking in on you—it was all Katsuki’s way of showing how much he cared.

When he was done cleaning up, he grabbed his hero jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on, his movements fluid and practiced. You walked over to him, your hands naturally finding their place on his chest as you helped him adjust the collar. He looked down at you, eyes soft despite the serious set of his mouth.

“Be careful out there, okay?” you murmured, your fingers lingering on the fabric of his jacket.

Katsuki huffed, but you could hear the affection in his voice. “I’m always careful, idiot. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, slow and lingering, and for a moment, Katsuki’s hand came up to cup your cheek, holding you in place just a little longer. When you pulled away, his red eyes were dark with something you couldn’t quite name, but you could feel the weight of his affection in that look.

“Get some rest today,” he said, his voice low and serious now. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nodded, watching as he stepped back and adjusted his gloves, his usual sharp, determined expression settling back in place. But before he opened the door, he turned back one last time, that softer version of him peeking through once again.

“Love you,” he said, and it was quiet—so quiet you almost missed it. But it was there, and that was enough.

“I love you too, Katsuki,” you whispered, your heart swelling as you watched him leave, already looking forward to the moment when he’d come back and the world would quiet down again, just for the two of you.

The hours passed slowly after Katsuki left. You tried to keep busy, flipping through a book or scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, but your mind kept wandering back to him. It was always like this when he was out on patrol. You trusted him more than anything, knew he was one of the strongest heroes out there, but that didn’t stop the small flutter of worry from creeping in now and then.

It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed with a message from him.

"On my way back. Be there in 20. Don’t start dinner without me"

You smiled at the screen, already feeling the familiar warmth in your chest. Katsuki was always direct, even in his texts, but the fact that he let you know he was coming home—that he was thinking of you—made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally walked through the door, there was none of the usual tension from his long day. He dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his boots, heading straight for you without a word. You barely had time to set down the book you’d been reading before his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug that left no room for anything but the two of you.

“Missed you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice quiet but full of that raw, unspoken affection you had come to know so well.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned into him, letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek wash away the last traces of the day.

And just like that, the world outside faded away, leaving only the quiet warmth of Katsuki’s presence and the simple, steady rhythm of your life together.

Gimmie soft pro bakugo ..I guarantee this man would treat you with respect u deserve