#God shines through us

[a-godman]

In the New Jerusalem we will See God's Face, Enjoy His Shining and Shine Him Forth

In the New Jerusalem, God’s redeemed people will see God’s face continually, His name will be on their foreheads, and the unlimited glory of God will shine forth as light with Christ as the lamp through the New Jerusalem to the whole universe. Hallelujah, our eternal destiny as believers in Christ is to be under God’s shining and even to shine God forth as the New Jerusalem for eternity to all…

[spookyspacepixels]

oops media is taking me over again

[hooned]

i can’t believe i took these photos oh my god i luckily had a great view of the entire concert and wow, again, had thee absolute time of my life. ❤️‍🩹 enhypen, you will always be loved by me.

[amischiefofmuses]

Kicks in your door -

Your portrayals (that's right, PLURAL) are lovingly crafted, beautifully executed, and incredibly thoughtful. Seeing you on my dash is always a delight, Mags! You've successfully changed my perception of a few characters (turning my disinterest due to lack of content/development in their original media into a genuine admiration).

It's also just...Really nice to see someone that I consider a friend having a good time on this site. When I read your writing, it's clear to me that you're doing it because it brings you joy! The characters that you bring to life through words are a reflection your interests, and I think that's a beautiful thing!

I also really enjoy reading your rambles on certain characters as you come across new plots/comic panels/other media sources that you draw inspiration from!

Anyway, I think your portrayals are fantastic & I'm so grateful to call you one of my mutuals <3

beep beep how’s my portrayal ? || Accepting

Oh my god, were you TRYING to make me cry???? Thank you so much, honestly I can think of no higher compliment than knowing that I helped you enjoy characters that you otherwise wouldn't, that's- WOW. Thank you. You're absolutely wonderful and such a great writer, we absolutely need to interact more (even if it's me throwing memes your way because I know you're v busy akjshdkjas), because you're a joy to interact with both ic and ooc. All the hugs for you!!!

[moonsprayer-a]

TAG DUMP. please do not interact with this post.

[s0dium]

I need you

Synopsis: Choso needs to fuck you despite the fact that you are Yuuji's babysitter.

Warnings: Desperate sex, rough sex

Visual link: xxxxx

Choso thinks you are an angel.

Honestly.

He marvels at how you always help his family out by babysitting his little brother Yuji, even if it's late at night. Your kindness shines through in every action, and he can't help but notice how your eyes glow like an angel's, your skin seems so soft, and your voice carries a soothing, gentle tone. It's not just what you do; it's the way you do it, with such grace and beauty, that makes him believe you truly are a blessing to his family.

So that is why he must do this.

His touches are relentless, drawing you into his room the moment Yuuji is asleep. You can barely even get a word in before his bigger hands are under your shirt, exploring the warmth of your skin, a desperate longing evident in each caress. You want to tell him to slow down, to truly connect beyond the frantic urgency. But your words dissolve into breathless whispers as you meet his dark tired eyes that are practically begging for you, begging to be with you, begging to feel you.

"I like kissing you." He murmurs against your lips. "I like you. I like you so much, you are so pretty. I like and love you."

You let yourself fall into his touch and Choso captures your mouth with his, a deep, enveloping kiss that makes you moan and whine for more. As he gently removes your tank top and shorts, leaving you in your bra and underwear and he devotes attention to every inch of your skin, delivering tender nips, soft sucks, and gentle bites.

"Perfect." He mumbles under his breath, burying his nose into the crook of your neck to pepper the delicate skin with soft kisses. "Fuck, you are so perfect, baby."

Your mind grows fuzzy at his words and you let out a sharp gasp when you feel him pull the hem of your underwear down your legs.

"Jump," he commands softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. Without hesitation, you leap up and in one fluid motion, he lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing you against him as he presses you against the wall. Your fingers find their way into his black hair tied up in buns long, tugging gently at the strands, anchoring yourself to him as his kisses deepen. You don't even notice that he has lowered his pants until you feel the hard pressure against your tight hole, making you instinctively squirm away.

"Stay still f'me ok baby?" Choso groans, peppering kisses along your jaw while he aligns himself with you. Without warning, he thrusts into you, the sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocking the wind out of your lungs. It's as if every fiber of your being is tuned to this moment, each caress and sensation amplifying the pleasure that surges through you. You feel a soft shiver start at the base of your spine, traveling upward, making your skin tingle with exquisite delight. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Choso thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure. The tightness of your cunt has Choso gasping for breath, the grip on your hips almost bruising as he tries to keep himself from spilling inside of you right here and now.

"I can feel you baby, sh-shit, I can feel you doing it to me." Choso is not a whining man but here he is falling apart at the warmth of your cunt. God you were heaven, he thinks he would be eternally happy if he could just spend all his time inside of you, feeling you squeeze around him, smelling the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. He uses you like his personal cock sleeve, thrusting up into your warm cunt with such vigor that it shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

For a moment, he slows down, leaning down to the space between you and letting a glob of thick spit drop onto your clit. He moves side to side, opening up your folds and rubbing your clit. You cry from the pleasure and Choso's Adam apple bobs as he groans as well.

He's close, and he knows you are too.

He is glaring at you with hooded eyes, watching the expressions of pleasure you make intently. Choso is caught in some sort of trance, like even though he is fucking you, he is powerless to you.

Your mind begins to drift, losing itself in the intensity of the experience of Choso fucking you. Time seems to blur, and the world around you fades, leaving only the profound connection between you and the pleasure you're immersed in. Each moment stretches and deepens, and you're carried away by the ebb and flow of sensations. Your body responds instinctively, arching off the wall and lifting your hips to meet Choso's thrusts, seeking more, craving the next wave of ecstasy. The pleasure builds and builds, a crescendo that fills you to the brim. It's a symphony of sensation, a dance of pure, unadulterated joy that leaves you breathless and yearning.

And then, in a glorious, breathtaking instant, it peaks. The world seems to explode in a kaleidoscope of bliss, and you are utterly consumed by it. Your heart races, your breath catches, and for a moment, you are weightless, suspended in a universe of pure pleasure.

Luckily for you, Choso is right there with you. His mind dips into a ocean of pleasure and before he can put a stop to it, he is spilling load upon loads of himself in you.

Damn it, he should've done this sooner.

[animamii]

"y'know," Toji grunts, fingers digging into the plush of your hips, "You shouldn't wanna be with a guy like me." His lidded eyes are focused on the way your body is arched, ass tutted out on display for him as his hands slide to grip the jiggly flesh.

"Mmm? And why not?" Your neck cranes, your voice silky and sweet and you purr out moan after moan.

"Cause you're my son's age, sweetheart," he bites his lip as he watches his dick slip in and out so smoothly, the way it shines with your slickness, "I could be your—hah— father."

"Why be my father when you could be my daddy?" You giggle, glossy lips curling up into a seductive smirk as you push back against him, emphasizing every deep thrust. His breath hitches, fingers tightening possessively on your waist.

"You're a dangerous little thing, aren't you?" Toji growls, voice thick with lust, his pace never faltering. "Makin' me wanna ruin you even more." With that he drills deeper, pushing every single inch of his manhood as deep as he can into you.

Your giggle melts into a breathless moan as he pulls you closer, his chest pressing against your back. "Then do it," you whisper, long lashes fluttering. "Make me yours, Daddy." Toji really doesn't know how a pretty little thing like you got into his bed, but by god he was grateful for it.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he snaps his hips forward, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. "Fuck, sweetheart," he mutters. "You really don't know what you're askin' for."

"Oh, I think I do," your voice gets a little deeper, sultrier than your usual girlish tone. Fucking little minx, he thinks.

Toji lets out a deep chuckle, the sound rough and sinful as his fingers trail up your spine before gripping the back of your neck. "You're playin' a dangerous game, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker—something possessive. "But I gotta admit… I like watchin' you lose."

His hips roll forward, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch of him dragging against your slick walls. The stretch, the heat—it’s too much and not enough all at once, and the way he holds you, like he owns you, only makes it worse.

You whimper, pushing back against him, needing more, needing him to stop teasing. "T-Toji…"

His grip on your neck tightens just enough to make your breath hitch. "What was that, baby?" he taunts, smirking as he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Thought you liked actin' all grown up. Use your words."

Your body shudders, pleasure tingling down your spine. "Please," you gasp, barely coherent, "Please, Daddy—"

A sharp groan rips from his throat, and in a heartbeat, his restraint snaps. His fingers dig into your flesh as he drags you back onto his cock, setting a brutal pace that has your eyes rolling back. "Fuck—there’s my good girl," he grits out, jaw clenching as he watches your body take him so greedily. "Knew you’d beg for it eventually."

The filthy squelch of skin meeting skin fills the air, and Toji watches, mesmerized, as your body trembles beneath him. "So fuckin' pretty when you fall apart," he rasps, reaching down to press his rough fingers against your needy clit. "C’mon, sweetheart—lemme see you cum for Daddy."

[cvnt4him]

izu w a cock too big for his own good.

You're his first girlfriend...EVER. which is surprising to you, he's attractive big n strong and so so so kind. He's the kind of guy girls dream about, a literal knight in shining armor. It made you feel sick that you couldn't help the lewd thoughts of what was inside the knights pants.

You would bring him food whenever you could and would see his thick bulge against his pants, that silly smile of his and those chubby freckled cheeks. He was so adorable and such a loser. God he truly deserves a cock that big.

You had him laid down on his back thighs wide open with you sitting in between them gently rubbing his cock covered by his boxers. He whimpered lowly staring up at you with those wide eyes of him, his face flushed with red while his pupils were blown wide. Izuku had never done anything quite like this before.....not with someone else at least.

He was a gooner 100% so he's definitely teased his cock through his boxers before you believe that for sure. You admired his face for a little before focusing on his big and thick cock sitting flat against his pelvis jolting up at the drag of your finger. You hum and gently rub your finger up his tip repeatedly earning a sigh from him, his eyes fluttering while his brows furrowed sticky precum oozing through his boxers, darkening the spot where his tip laid.

His thighs were having trouble staying open, the feeling of being pleasured but just barely by you was fogging up his brain it was turning him on a lot more than you thought. He could cum untouched if that's what you wanted, as many times as you wanted. You put your hand on his inner thigh caressing his freckled and tanned skin with your thumb and a smile painting your face.

You wrap your entire hand around his cock giving it a squeeze trying to get a feel out of his cock. The girth was amazing you could hardly wrap your entire hand around it. That says a lot. Once more he whined laying his head back and using the back of his hand to hide the wobbly smile forming in his flushed face. You didn't even move your hand, just holding his cock as it began jumping in your palm. You could feel it moving up and down begging to be used.

“ y..yeah.....c'mon touch it.. mmph.. fuck.”

You heard him mumble a whimper filled sentence under his breath, heavy breaths leaving him as he laid back letting you whatever you wanted to him.

“ m’gonna pull these down a bit m’kay izu?”

He nodded quickly as you removed your hand from his cock and hooked your fingers through the waist and of his boxers, pulling it back and letting it snap against his skin. He winced and jolted up at the pain whimpering with a shiver as he looked up to you with pleading eyes. He didn't say anything, letting his eyes tell you exactly what you knew he wanted. How sweet.

You run your hand down his lower abdomen before finally fishing your hand into his boxers and pulling it out gently having it lie against his pelvis once more. A shaky sigh left his lips at the gush of cold air hitting his precum slicked tip. You admired his estate for a while watching how enamouring he was, how luminescent he looked.

His cock head was large and a rosy red still leaking precum, there were a couple of veins painting the sides of his thick pulsating cock, large and full balls tightening below. He looked absolutely appetizing. It truly is a surprise to see a sweet and gentle guy have such a big and bold cock. So thick it can't even stand up on its own.

“ dont...look at it like that..”

He whispered to you, a whine ending his sentence. His eyes were hardly open he was so embarrassed, his cock was out having the cold air brush against it causing his cock to jump at the breeze. He whined lowly thighs flexing on each side of you waiting for you to do something.

You rub his thighs to try and get him to calm down, his breathing was heavy and almost as if he was out of breath. To your surprise his hips lift into the air slightly and he shivers at your touch, a low moan leaving his lips. He was so desperate to be touched it was saddening honestly, but far too cute to not enjoy.

You decided to give in and touch him, wrapping your hand around his cock once more jerking him off. Hand moving up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. Not even five minutes of you touching him gently, palm grazing over his sensitive vock head occasionally, he'd cum.

Low whines leaving his slackened jaw as his cock began leaking out his whine cum, pooling all over his lower abdomen and spilling onto the bed, you had moved your hand the second you seen his cum slowly spill down his reddened cock head.

You stared at him, disbelief behind your eyes but you hadn't wanted him to see that as he might feel bad given how quickly he'd cum. After he calmed down from he previous high his shaky eyes fluttered open and focused back on you and your figure, your eyes met with his and he instantly felt a rush of embarrassment.

Curling into a ball and huffing out a line of apologies.

“ I'm so sorry!! I just...you , you felt so good-! I didn't know I could...... just..— I'm sorry !”

You sigh and laugh above your adorable little big lover below you, hiding his face and whining in embarrassment wallowing in his own filth. You rub his back kissing the top of his head and decided you wouldn't tease him.

Although the fact his cock is so big and so thick and HE was so big and strong yet he couldn't even handle having his cock stroked by his girlfriend. Albeit this was his first time with something like this so you supposed you could give him the benefit of the doubt.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Watch my 9mm go BANG!

Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, gun play, dead dove, caleb is a walking red flag in this one, the gun goes WHERE???

An: So um… I’m obsessed with him, and I sincerely apologize for writing this.

No, you’re absolutely right. Sylus would never fuck you with his gun. He cherishes you, worships your body as if you’re a goddess who fell into his lap. He’s too weary of accidentally hurting you. He couldn’t fathom shoving an object of war inside your pretty little pussy, the most safest of places that he knows. It’s a blasphemous thought really.

but you know who would do that…

“C-caleb, th-that… oh my god… what are you doing-? Mmph! Shit,” you gasp and pant, looking down between your legs to marvel at the black weapon adorned with silver attachments sliding through your slick folds.

Caleb’s lilac eyes are on you, watching you from between your knees, and he has a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the confusion, fear, and arousal take precedent on your face.

This type of debauchery is only something you could take part in with someone you trust with your whole life. Caleb already knows all your secrets… What’s one more sick kink to add to his arsenal of blackmail?

“What’s the matter, pipsqueak? This is only such a small step up from my hand.” He taunts, raising his robotic arm up to give you a teasing wave.

His other hand is carefully dragging the handgun up and down, watching as you coat his gun in the most beautiful of shine. Truthfully, he’s considering doing this with all of his guns. He needs his pretty girl to christen all of his weapons. You know… for luck.

“Ah-!” you gasp and tense as you feel him aim the weapon right at your small bundle of nerves, applying a small amount of pressure before he skillfully maneuvers the gun in small circles.

Your hands are fisting at the sheets, slightly pulling at them as you try to take your mind off of what’s happening to you. He’s using a gun to bring you to the edge, and the worst part was you’ve never been this close to finishing so quickly before.

Your stomach tightens, and you’re on the cusp. Your legs try to clamp around Caleb’s arm and the gun, but his other hand presses to your knee and forces you to keep your legs open.

“Tsk. Come on. Let me see~ I wanna see you unravel on my gun,” his eyes are glimmering with mischief and perversion as he applies more pressure, and he flicks his wrist in tighter circles, pinpointing your pleasure center down with such ease.

“Fuck-! Caleb… I-“ you can’t even get the words out before you feel your body snap like a bowstring. Your pleasure ripples through your body in waves as your walls clench around nothing.

“What a pretty sight,” he murmurs proudly as he finally relieves some of the pressure. “I wanna see it happen again,” he proclaims, sliding the gun further down towards your entrance.

“Wait- You can’t be serious, C-caleb,” you choke out, squirming backwards on the bed away from the handgun being pointed towards your very core.

“Dead serious, pipsqueak,” he affirms as he gives you that cold gaze he’s mastered since becoming a colonel. “What? Don’t you trust me?”

He flips the gun upside down, tilting the handle towards your clit as the muzzle plugs your entrance.

Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you find yourself stilling for him. Some deep depraved part of you is just as enticed as it is repulsed.

“Look at you being such a good girl,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to the inner part of your knee before he slides the barrel of the gun inside you.

“O-oh!” you gasp, arching your back off the bed as you squeeze your eyes closed. The metal isn’t very cold anymore, and it’s adequately lubed with your arousal from earlier.

“Shh, shh.” he whispers as his hands slowly work the gun further inside you. His eyes are enamored with the sight of your puffy folds, happily swallowing his gun like the needy slut you are. “Feels good to let go, don’t it?”

You’re too focused on the feeling of his gun slowly sliding in and out of you. Your warm walls hug around the barrel. You’re completely baffled at how you’re getting so turned on from this. You should be scared out of your mind, but instead, your hips are rolling, trying to seek out more stimulation from the weapon.

“Sooo eager. God, you’re so beautiful,” his voice is husky as he whispers. He can feel the strain in his pants from his erection, but he’s not looking to relieve himself. This is all about you.

He tilts the handle of the gun upwards, pressing the butt of the handle against your small bundle of nerves. The angle of the gun making it possible to stimulate twice as much.

“Oh my— shit, Caleb!” you’re stumbling over words as your cunt flutters around the gun. You’re already close again.

“That’s right, pretty. Cum on my fucking gun. Come on. Give it to me,” he demands, gripping the gun tightly with one hand as he’s pumping it in and out quicker. The sound of metal clicking and squelching echoes in the room.

His face is twisted in pure concentration, and his muscles flex with each time he moves the gun inside you. His chain bouncing around his neck as he works you down.

Your body goes taut, and you lift your hips up off the bed. Your slick is gathered beneath you onto the sheets. You’re dripping.

Your ears begin to ring, and you shout his name as you squeeze around his gun. His hands become more methodical, pumping the gun leisurely with his hand.

You can hear him let out a low growl as he watches your pussy constrict. You’re such a pitiful thing — trying to milk his gun as if it could even give you anything.

You’re gasping for air as he slowly pulls the gun out of you. Its shiny metal was glistening in your slick. Caleb smirks to himself, knowing that every time he cleans it, he’s going to have to plunge it into you again.

“Messy girl,” he grins as he admires his weapon. He then slowly brings it up to his lips before his tongue lulls out, and he licks your juices straight off of his gun, savoring your taste.

“You’re sick,” you pant, unable to tear your eyes away from the downright pornographic sight.

“Says the one who just came on my gun like a psychopath.”

[humanjarvis]

forever boy

synopsis: you used to tell caleb everything. so why doesn’t he know about your new tattoos?

tags: fluff to angst to fluff, you get tattoos without telling caleb and he freaks out and you argue, he guilts you into showing him, surprise reveal (guess what the tattoos are), references to the fleet stuff and his bionic arm, caleb has nightmares, pathetic puppy caleb is back, he’s in the doghouse (ha get it) for less than a day, groveling, happy ending word count: 2.3k

a/n: i am proud of this i think. i made up some dates bc idk the timeline in this game. i also have no tattoos if you were wondering. there are allusions to a beloved recent drabble of mine in here can you guess which one

“Get off of me!” you squeal, gasping through chortles as Caleb's fiendish fingers dance over your belly.

“No can do, pips. Tickle monster doesn’t let his victims off that easy.”

He’s had you pinned down on the couch for almost 10 minutes now, poking and prodding at your sides until you’d grown nauseous from laughter. 

But still, Caleb won’t relent. Each time you swat his chest, try to bring your knee up between his legs—cute—he only moves his hands faster. For all the months he’d spent starved for your smile, he’s making up for lost time, he thinks. 

“I’m not…laughing because I’m having fun,” you wheeze, wriggling under him unsuccessfully. “This is basically torture. When I get free…I’m making sure you get a dishonorable discharge.” 

“What?” he smirks down at you. “If this is so torturous, why don’t you just push me off? Waitttt,” he gasps, leaning in conspiratorially. “It can’t be because I’m stronger than you, can it?” 

As his infuriatingly smug, annoyingly handsome face looms over you, Caleb doesn’t realize he’s flown too close to the sun. Before he can react, you capitalize on the opening. Squirming out from beneath him, you take advantage of his surprise and use the momentum to flip him over, your hips now on his waist in a straddle. 

“What were you saying?” you ask sweetly, the triumph in your voice slightly dampened by the way you’re still gulping down oxygen.

“Huh,” he shrugs, voice entirely too cheery for someone who’d just been bested. “I guess I stand corrected. Looks like someone’s been getting their reps in.” 

“Won’t you admit defeat, then, Mr. Monster?” you smirk. And as you lean over him to assert your victory, Caleb can’t help but gawk at the way your lips part, your shirt rides up, your tattoo shines in the warm light of the—Wait. Your tattoo?!?

No matter how many times he blinked, there was no mistaking it. There, right on the side of your once-bare ribcage, lies the prominent, pitch-black ink.

You’re still hovering over him, your light, playful chuckles fanning his face, but they slowly fade out when his muscles go rigid. Perplexed, you follow his gaze down your body until you finally spot your exposed skin, and with the way you go rigid, Caleb can tell an argument is brewing between you. 

The tense silence permeates the air, as if erasing the precious laughter he’d so giddily won from you just moments before. 

Like usual, you break first. You couldn’t stand his silence, you’d said the last time. The way it makes you feel small, like you’ve done something wrong, like you’re in trouble. “So help me God, Caleb, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Whatever you’re about to say, drop it. You can tickle me until my sides bleed, just—don’t.” 

But Caleb, as much as he loved hearing your voice, wasn’t listening. While you were begging him to drop it, to leave it alone, he was too busy simmering over you doing something so drastic, so permanent to your body without his knowledge—like you didn’t trust him with the information. Didn’t trust him to hold your hand through the pain, to drive you home from the parlor, to wash and treat your tender flesh.

That awful feeling he thought you’d both moved past—had worked so hard to move you past—made him suffocate in his skin. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks lowly, gravel filling his voice. “Were you…hiding it from me?” 

As he rises to lift your shirt and get a clearer view, you intercept his hand in uncompromising resistance. He’d reached for you with his right arm. But somehow, your touch still manages to sting. 

It’s Caleb’s turn to laugh, now, but the sound is hollow. “You won’t even show me,” he chuckles humorlessly. “Not even when I already know.” Firmly, but gently as ever, he lifts you off of him and onto the opposite side of the sofa. 

You scoff at him, and the look of incredulity on your face would cause a less devoted man to back down. “Don’t lecture me about keeping secrets. I have a tattoo, Caleb. You have a double life.” 

“It’s for your own safety that I—”

“Is it for my own safety that you treat me like a child?” 

He pauses, and before he can stop it, he feels his face shift into the mask molded for him against his will. The face—his own, but somehow not—that plagues his nightmares. Cold, unfeeling, uncaring, indomitable.

“You don’t have to trust me anymore. But I’d appreciate it if you said it to my face instead of making me believe you did.” 

He hears the soft gasp that escapes you, but he refuses to look—too consumed by his emotions, too ashamed to face yours. It’s when he turns to leave that he hears your quick footsteps, and almost immediately, you’re whipping him around to look at you.

Your shirt is raised to the base of your sternum. 

And in the warm light of the living room, the soft glow of the summer evening illuminating the streaks on your skin, Caleb sucks in a breath. 

VIII IX MMXLVIII

August 9, 2048. 

The date your lives had changed. The date he’d broken his promise to always be by your side. The date part of him—physical, or something more—had died. 

With a bold, decisive line striking through it.

His eyes dart to the space below. You had another one, he realized. This was the one he’d glimpsed earlier, then—the one that’d made him question your faith in him.

IV XVIII MMXLIX

April 18, 2049. 

The date his life had been revealed to you. The date you’d fought your way back into it. The date your shattered souls had met again and vowed to mend each other. 

This one is different from the last. The numerals are pure. Pristine, clear, unmarred. Unapologetic.

An insidious, deserved pang spreads through his chest. You’d wanted to remember both dates, to etch them into your skin. You’d needed to move past the first. You’d needed to savor the second. 

A space on your sacred body, dedicated to him—to you both. To your tragic end, to your new beginning. Forever. 

“Are you happy now, you jerk?” You seethe, yanking your shirt down and snapping him out of his reverie. 

And as your voice wobbles, Caleb is anything but. 

“Pip-squeak,” he starts hoarsely, feeling anxious bile scald the back of his throat. “I didn’t think…If I’d known….”

“But you didn’t know, Caleb. You didn’t need to know,” you stress. The pained inflections in your voice seem to sync with your steps as you walk to him, your head level with his shuddering chest. “I will bare my soul to you. Happily. When I am good and ready. But forcing me to do it before then? Just so you can convince yourself that I trust you? That gives me all the more reason not to.” 

The bite in your tone numbs him to the way you push past him, shoving his shoulder hard enough to bruise. When you retreat to your bedroom, he hears the sharp click of the door lock and allows a wry grin to cross his face at the irony. And he thought you’d been shutting him out before. 

You wake up with swollen eyes. An uncomfortable reminder of last night’s humiliation. 

With a sigh, you roll your way out of bed, your limbs sore from being hunched in the fetal position for so long. You usually slept with a human-shaped back pillow, but you supposed that arrangement was on pause for the time being. 

You wonder how he’s doing. How he’d spend the night, if he’d left in the middle of it. As much as you hate to think it, you wouldn’t blame him. 

As you exit—or try to exit—your bedroom, though, it seems your worries are unfounded. 

There, slumped against the wooden door, is a sleeping, miserable-looking Caleb. Eyebrows drawn, nose scrunched, hands twitching—he must be having a nightmare.

With a resolute swallow, you push down the pain from the night before and, against your better judgment, prop the door open just enough to slip out. 

Kneeling beside him, you stroke his hair gently and hold his left hand in yours. “Caleb,” you call softly. “Wake up, please.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes flutter open—slowly, at first, until they focus on you. In an instant, surprise, regret, and a flicker of hope flash across his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tightening his grip on your hand. “I shouldn’t have—even if you hadn’t gotten them for us,” he breathes shakily, “I shouldn’t have pried.”

He’s sitting up now, having pushed himself off the door to get as close to you as you’d allow. The next time he speaks, the rasp in his voice suggests he’d slept about as well as you had. 

“You should…” he begins, swallowing thickly. “You should only tell me your secrets when you’re ready. I’ll wait. I’m lucky to know anything about you at all.”

Your chest constricts, and the ghosts of mortification and unwarranted guilt are the only things stopping you from forgiving him. With a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, you remove your palm from his grasp, pretending not to notice when he chases your touch. “You should stretch your legs.”

The day is slow and awkward.

Your top-floor apartment is sweltering in the summer heat, so you don a loose crop top—it’s not like you have anything to lose anymore—and Caleb tries not to stare at your ribs.

It’s Sunday, the day you usually reserve for chores, and you try to ignore the way he follows you through every room: dusting your bedroom fan, mopping the kitchen floor, cleaning the bathtub while you wipe the counter. It’s a wordless process, but a seamless one—evidently, even a stalemate can’t jeopardize your synchrony. 

He disappears when you’re finishing up, and as you wonder if he’d gotten sick of your anger, the scent of your favorite food wafts through the air. In curiosity, hunger, and abashed dependence—you couldn’t boil an egg without starting a fire—you warily make your way to the kitchen you’d both left spotless. 

It still is, for the most part; the only hint of disturbance is the freshly cooked meal sitting on the island. One plate, one glass, one set of silverware. And Caleb sits in the living room, pretending to busy himself with a diagram, forlornly glancing over to you every few seconds. There if you need him, but not daring to intrude.

It’s nighttime when he tries again. 

You’re reading on the couch, instinctively avoiding the cursed spot from the night before, when Caleb shuffles into the room. In utter dejection, he makes room for himself on the floor between your legs and hugs his knees to his chest. The action tugs at your dwindling resolve, weakened by the care he’d shown you today, and before you know it, you’re running your fingers through his hair. 

He stiffens and relaxes at your touch before leaning back into you, enveloping himself in your embrace. As he presses innocent, lingering kisses to the inside of your knee, you feel the quiet tension in the room begin to build. 

This time, he breaks the silence.

“I never would have imagined those days meant so much to you,” he begins softly. “Wasn’t sure if you thought the first was a blessing in disguise. If you thought the second was some kind of curse.” Your hand falters in his tousled locks, and he exhales shakily. “I was just…surprised, pips. And hurt, I guess. You doin’ something so serious without tellin’ me—it never would’ve happened before,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to guilt trip you into showing me, I just…” 

“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed,” you whisper, saving him from the struggle of finding the right words. “Not because I don’t trust you. I do, if you can believe it. More than anyone.”

Caleb stills against you, and you place a hand on his shoulder before continuing with a sigh. “I basically saw those numbers in my sleep, at one point,” you chuckle in self-deprecation. “They flashed in my head over, and over, and over—the day I lost you, the day I found you. So I figured the only way to stop it was to carry them with me, always. And when the clarity hit…I thought I was silly. Immature. Like, I had something etched onto my body for you, Caleb. I felt like I was too attached. Too dependent on you.” 

“Is it bad if I say I’d like that?” he quips with a tired smile. “Pip-squeak,” he sighs. “You could never be too attached to me. When I saw those dates—when I realized what they meant,” he swallows, “I wanted to hold you to me ‘til I couldn’t breathe. Wanted to tattoo your tattoos inside my eyelids so I could see them every time I blink,” he jokes, kissing your palm. “That’s too attached, by the way.” 

As you giggle at him—your first in almost 24 hours—he brightens slightly. “I really am sorry for forcing your hand. Makin’ you feel like your only choice was to tell me. But, for the record, those are the least embarrassing tattoos I’ve ever seen. Gideon has one of a monkey, you know.” 

And after you duck your head into his shoulder to stifle your laughter, you haul him up and into your bedroom—no door for a mattress, this time. You’re both due for some much-needed sleep. 

The next day, you stand in front of your bathroom mirror while Caleb hugs you from behind, admiring the inky black lines on your exposed waist. Leaning in to kiss your cheek, he whispers into your ear: “You know, they say rib tattoos hurt a lot. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone. Why don’t I get matching ones so we can share the pain?” 

[yeslordmyking]

Deuteronomy 1:21 — Today's Verse for Sunday, January 21, 2024

[strangerstilinski]

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

“Yo.”

“Yes, Satoru?”

“You never had your first kiss, huh?”

Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 

You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 

Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.

He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”

“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 

“Why was that the thought that—“

“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”

You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”

He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”

Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.

“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”

Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“

A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 

“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“

“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 

“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”

“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”

“That’s…That’s not the point—“

“You’re deflecting!”

“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”

That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”

You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.

Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.

You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.

An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…

…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.

“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“

“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”

Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 

The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.

“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”

Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”

“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 

You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“

“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.

Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.

Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.

It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.

Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.

Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 

It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.

“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”

“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”

Yet again, another deception.

Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ‘o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.

Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 

“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”

It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”

“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”

“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”

“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”

I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”

“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”

You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”

“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”

“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”

God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 

“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.

Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 

The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.

“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”

Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[itoshhi]

𝜗𝜚 bakugou katsuki | first experience

❕smut mdni, give him a blowjob.

your boyfriend, bakugou katsuki, was enjoying it so much as you were on his lap, kissing and rubbing up against him. one of his hands was holding your waist tightly while the other was squeezing your hips. and, huh? you should have seen his expression when you got off his lap and knelt in front of him…

“what are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. when you slowly untied the strings of his grey sweatpants and touched him through his clothing, he could no longer make eye contact and threw his head back, will whine. you seem to know how to drive him crazy.

“fuck…” i swear you saw him in the most desperate state you could ever see when you softly touched the tip of his cock with your tongue. his breathing was trembling, he’s barely holding himself back from running his hands through your hair and guiding you. when he leaned his head down again and looked at you, you could read his eyes, their redness shining with great desire.

he was actually nervous… yes, very much so. he couldn’t decide whether to be rough, to use his hands to guide you while you gave him a blowjob, or to leave all the work to you. but i'm sure he'll quickly catch the looks and mutterings you send to encourage him. just be sure to be gentle when you first take him in your mouth...

and now, he was throwing his head back and moaning while you were trying to take his cock completely. his adam's apple was clearly visible, the hem of his black tank top was slightly hiked up and his abs were exposed, his blonde hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and this view was like a sight for you. oh yeah, he was no different than you. you were trying to take his cock that almost didn't fit in your mouth, your eyes were filled with light tears while his one hand was in your hair.

it was different, very different from the way he jerk off when he was away from you, even once in a while. you were hot, breathtaking. it couldn't even fit in your mouth, u were taking his breath away with the feeling of your hands. it was much more of a growl than a moan, and his harsh and low sounds coming from his throat would fill the room.

one hand was holding your hair but not to guide you, he was just holding on to you. he was still holding himself back so as not to do anything that would hurt you, but you were pushing him so hard. god, i swear he's going to be addicted to the blowjob you were giving him. what you should do, rubbing the part that doesn't fit in your mouth with your hands to drive him crazy and he is literally in love with the view of you between his legs. he can cum just by imagining it.

well, if you want this explosive boy to be completely defenseless in front of you, this will help you now...

© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.}

[theorist-fox]

Johnny's invited to dinner

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Word Count: 900

18+

CW: smut!!! this is literally smut. blowjob, handjob, various jobs that don't involve a salary. smug johnny. assertive dom simon but soft with you and you only.

Masterlist 🦊

“Agreed to have ya ‘ere to look, not to talk, MacTavish.” 

Simon’s voice is a growl that unfolds like an earthquake, reverberating in your skull. It cracks at the edges when your lips, wrapped around his cock, slide a little further down.

Johnny stands less than a foot from where you kneel, fully dressed but with his dick in hand, stroking idly and passing his thumb over the slit every now and then. 

“Ach—but she seems to like it.” Johnny’s lips quirk in an impish smile, and his hand travels the space between you and him to tangle his fingers in your hair. “Don’t you, bonnie?” 

Simon pierces Johnny with a look. It’s smothered by the way you moan appreciatively around his cock.

Johnny chuckles hoarsely. “Aye, she does.” 

And then he pushes your head forward—slowly but ever so demanding. You comply, following Johnny’s lead, until your nose is buried in Simon’s curls and your eyes are shining. 

You gag around him. Simon smacks a fist on the bed. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He’s quick to recollect his bearings and uses his thumb to wipe a tear down your cheek. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, and he takes that attempt at a smile as eager consent. One he makes sure to have, once again, by cocking his head inquisitively—you nod, or try to, and he sighs. Gently, Simon smooths the hair away from your forehead in silent thankfulness. 

“Fuckin’ hell, alrigh’.” Johnny grunts, too focused on the sight of Simon’s cock disappearing in your mouth to notice the silent communication happening. He speeds the movement of his hand, tugging at the foreskin right above his glans. “How's she feel, L.T.? Gimme the details.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Johnny tuts. “Ye gotta tell me—been selfish with her for too long. I get why, but don’t keep me in the dark now, uh? Feel like we're past that."

You start bobbing your head, gently guided by Johnny’s hand, while holding onto Simon’s thighs. He feels completely corded, like a rope ready to snap.

This is not what he thought would happen when you offered to have Johnny over for dinner.

But fuck it if he's going to complain.

Your head is cradled everywhere around it like it’s something precious and fragile—Johnny’s hand at the back, Simon’s palms now both at your cheeks.

“She’s warm.” He replies flatly, burying grunts and growls deep in his chest.

“Aye—coulda guessed that.” Johnny huffs. “Elaborate, will ye?” 

It’s then that you shift your head from side to side to accustom your jaw to his girth. Simon’s tip touches somewhere deep down your throat, and you choke around it. Your nostrils flare, and your eyes drown in tears Simon catches with his thumbs. 

“Fuck—” He grunts, rolling his eyes. “She—she’s fuckin’ melting me, Johnny. Tha’ enough?” 

“Yeah?” Johnny croaks. “Takin’ you deep—aye, sir?” 

“’Firmative.” 

“Can see ye bulgin’ down her throat,” he says, and Simon feels the sick need to go and check with his thumb. God help him, Johnny’s right. 

“She’s tight.” Simon pants. 

“Bet she is,” Johnny croaks. “Can’t wait to feel her myself. Right, hen?”

Simon watches you struggle to find a way to reply. You can’t speak because your mouth is busy elsewhere; you can’t nod, or you’ll choke. You opt for your hands, wrapping one around Johnny’s thigh and squeeze, digging your fingernails into the denim of his jeans. He stumbles forward, just a tad closer.

Johnny rewards you by massaging your scalp with his pads, a hoarse hum of approval passing through his lips. 

“Trained her right, L.T.” He chuckles.

Simon gives him a look that would normally freeze him on the spot, but it only prompts Johnny to stiffen and bite back a moan. 

“Didn’t train her, you twat.” Simon huffs gruffly, giving a tender brush of his thumb on your cheek as you work your mouth down his shaft. “She ain’t a dog.”

Johnny’s smirk falters, but Simon’s sure it’s not because he’s being reprimanded by his lieutenant but because he’s on the verge of finishing. Judging by the heavy furrow of his brow, he clearly doesn’t want to—not yet.

“Aye she ain’t.” He agrees, voice cracked and breathy. “But she’s a learner. Look at how she takes ye—that ain’t talent, can’t be.”

Johnny winks at you when he catches you struggling to look up. 

You huff from your nose, rolling your eyes fondly. His lips quirk, and he softens you up by grazing his nails down your scalp until your skin rises in goosebumps.

You push your head back against Johnny’s hand, and he takes that as a sign to go on. 

“That’s fuckin' hard work, right there.” He growls, and then guides your head down Simon’s cock once again. His thighs tighten under your fingertips, spine straight and knotted when you swallow him all the way down.

“Careful, Johnny.” Simon warns through gritted teeth. Even though he’s on the verge of toppling over, his voice still sounds delightfully rich—stern and commanding.

Then, he directs his eyes to you.

Yours soften, probably because his cheeks are awfully pink, and the crinkles of his eyes stretch in that way he reserves for you only. “Alrigh’?

You hum in reply, blinking up at him with clumped lashes and happy, bloodshot eyes.

“Three taps on my thigh when you need, yeah?” He says. “Go on.” 

You tap Simon’s thigh three times. He brushes his thumb down your cheek before placing his hand over Johnny’s wrist at the back of your head.

He squeezes it until his knuckles turn white, and then he nods his way. Johnny swallows a rock lodged in his throat when he meets Simon's hooded gaze.

“Go on, Johnny.” His hand on your cheek remains soft and soothing, but his eyes, locked on Johnny’s flushed face, hold a darkness you’re not allowed to see.

“Make me cum."

Hey!!! We officially reached 1k people so I thought I'd scare you away with some filthy smut.

I love you all. Truly. Thank you for being here and making my days 10 times better.

-theo 🦊

[potchi-fics]

note: mhhmmpffhmmhfpphfmmm, also it's 3:50 am here when i finished writing this (w/o the good boy for the folks out there, here's the link, all of my g!p works will be posted in there.) tw; g!p vi, use of good boy, backshots

      vi’s libido is exceptionally high—especially when it comes to you and you only. you have the power to turn her on, to make her dick so hard, it’ll leave her aching, needy, and whiney. you could be bending to get something you baked from the oven, or press your tits on her arms to show her something, or just wear shorts that reveal your thighs.

her eyes have never shined so brightly. her dick gets harder and harder every time. the moment you step out of your shared bathroom wearing just her shirt and underwear—she is gone.

“vi, how are you turned on right now,” her hands roam your body, still slightly damp from a shower, “you seriously cannot be turned on.”

      she kisses your neck, vi’s front making contact against your back, leading you to lean your head to the side, giving her more access. 

vi whines out, her hips grinding on your backside, hissing at the small pleasure, “please, baby. can’t help it,” your hand lands on her hips as she begins to grind, letting you feel her cock through her shorts, “you make me feel so good.”

“vi–” you feel fingers at the garters of your underwear, eyes widening once she pulls it down, pooling around your midthighs.

      well, good thing your libido is higher, yeah?

she pushes you towards the end of your bed, making you land on your knees. and without even a second thought, vi flattens her tongue on your pussy, toes curling at the sudden pleasure. her thumb circles your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, but her tongue, god, her tongue is doing wonders to you.

a squeal escapes your throat when you feel her push in, hands gripping the sheets. vi’s groans serve as a vibration and it adds to the pleasure she’s giving you. she pulls her tongue out, licking down to replace her thumb. she alternates between sucking and giving your clit kitten licks.

“ne-need you inside, vi,” your mewls and whimpers spur her on, eyes shut, “inside, hurry.”

      obeying like a soldier, she quickly slips two fingers inside of your sopping cunt, groaning at the warmness and tightness of you. vi curls her fingers, her tongue doing circles on your clit.

the feeling of the tip of her fingers prodding on your g-spot makes your entire body quiver in need. you wet your sheets with your drool, face digging deeper into, crescent-like marks appearing on your palms with how tight you grip.

vi is no better; her shorts are ruined, the head of her cock dripping with precum. her cock itself is already sensitive, pulsing and twitching inside the material, straining against it. 

“vi, baby,” your voice is muffled, barely gasping your words out, “need you inside. your cock.”

      you turn your head to stare at her—the big bad wolf of zaun is broken, disheveled: hair is tussled, body coated in sweat, eyes needy. she pulls down her shorts just enough for her dick to slip out, slapping against her navel, and the tip just a little bit shorter than the patch of red hair.

your eyes glint dangerously under the light, face holding a barely contained smirk; you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. 

she grips the base of her cock, slapping it on your wet cunt, making another whimper escape you. vi slowly slips the head of her cock, biting her lip at the sight of you welcoming her. you bury your face into the mattress once more, attempting to at least suppress your noises.

you can cum with how her dick slides into you, how she goes deeper and deeper, ever so slowly; letting you feel her thickness, the veins. 

vi whines when you clamp down on her the moment the back of your thighs meets her own, “baby, so tight.” she brings the hem of her tanktop to her mouth, biting it to keep it from covering your pussy, “gripping me so good.”

“move.”

      vi rocks her hips, you refuse to let go of her. her thumbs press down on your back dimples, using your body as leverage to pump your cunt on her dick. unconsciously, you spread your legs wider, arching your back a little more, pushing back against her. 

every time she pulls out, only to thrust back in, it makes your eyes roll. with the way she’s moving, you can feel it deep in your pussy, the head of her cock dragging itself on your walls—you’re already convulsing in pleasure.

vi changes her pace, faster and harder, slamming into you like she’s about to put a baby in you. she bites down into her shirt, seeing your slick on her dick encourages her to fuck you harshly.

your unfocused gaze lands back at her, “i think i’m about to cum already, baby,” vi’s surprised gaze, hazed even, bores into you, “mh-hmm… you make me feel so good, vi. such a good boy for me.”

      she shudders at your praise, abdomen flexing, her dick twitching inside of you. she pulls you up by your arms, your back still arching as she pushes her hips into yours, forcing her dick to go deeper.

she pulls out until her tip’s only what’s left inside of you before slamming back in. she wraps one hand around your throat, attacking your neck with bites and kisses, leaving marks that’ll last for days. 

you’re letting out sinful and unforgivable noises, throat beginning to get sore, but neither of you cares. you lean your head back on her shoulder, a hand going up to caress the back of her head, grasping her hair to ground yourself.

“make me cum, baby, rub my clit,” to help you get over the edge, she gives attention to your puffy clit, rubbing it, her cock splitting you thin, “just like that, vi.”

      vi’s shudders again, holding back her orgasm just for you. she speeds up, a yelp emitting from you. you are just so tight, so warm, so good. your pussy sucks her cock in like a succubus, you’re milking her.

she feels your chest heave excessively, broken whispers of her name—her eyes are tightly shut close, and she’s cumming. she cums like a hose, filling you up to the brim with her cum. with each spurt, she thrusts; you love it. you love it so much that you’re going over the edge along with her.

“baby, your pussy’s crushing me,” vi whimpered meekly, cock still cumming, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you laugh tiredly, enjoying how her dick spasms inside of you, your eyes still closed, “not my fault your dick is massive, honey.”

      her posture relaxes once she stops cumming, her arms hugging your torso, the both of you catching your breath before she’s separating herself from you. vi lifts her tanktop once again as she looks down, she pulls out slowly, groaning at the way your cunt grips her dick, or how a bridge of your cum and hers appears.

“you’re carrying me to the bathroom.”