#I don’t know does that count as a hot take?…..
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Forgive me, Father!
Summary: you have something to confess and Nanami is more than willing to hear you out Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: porn with little plot, fem!reader, dubcon, improper use of a confessional booth, manhandling, choking, unprotected sex, cursing, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, squirting, blowjob, fingering, not proofread
Priest!Nanami waits for you in the confessional booth. He’s the local priest that everyone trusts, he even teaches at the orphanage, providing a stable figure for all the lost souls born here and that pass through.
“What brings you here, my child?”
Priest!Nanami’s voice is deep and gruff, vibrating against the thick wood of the booth. It pierces your core, travelling straight to your pussy. You press your legs together. This is bad, so very bad. You shouldn’t be feeling this way for him; he’s a good man, an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the community.
“F-forgive me, Father. I’ve been having bad thoughts, and I don’t know what to do.”
Priest!Nanami hums. You can see his figure through the privacy screen, the perforated divide granting only slight view of his cassock, the black robe a familiar sight, as you rest your knees on the kneeler, clasping your hands at your chest.
“Bad thoughts, you say?” He asks. “What kind of bad thoughts, my dear?”
Lips quivering you answer, “I don’t think I should say, Father. I’d hate for you to resent me.”
Priest!Nanami insists, “Oh, but how can I guide you if I do not know what path you stray down?”
“Father, I’ve been thinking of you, wondering how your body feels under your robe and dreaming of your taste. I’m so terribly sorry, Father. Forgive me!”
Priest!Nanami chuckles.
“That is very bad, indeed. I fear you have been possessed by a lustful spirit, and it must be repelled before it consumes you wholeheartedly.”
You trust him with your life, just as everyone does, so when he slides the slot beneath the privacy screen to the side, you don’t hesitate to part your lips to suck up the healing essence of his holy sceptre.
It coats your lips, salty and scalding, as you widen your jaw to take as much of him down as you can.
“Very good, my dear,” he groans. “Just a little more and you’ll be healed in no time.”
His huge cock head presses against the back of your throat, the veins rubbing against your tongue, and he begins making shallow thrusts into your hot, wet mouth.
Priest!Nanami makes a low groan and it travels straight to your pussy, urging you to take him deeper, tongue swirling around the underside of the head.
"You have a gifted mouth -ha- very gifted, indeed," he praises.
You needed this so badly. So many nights spent wondering how he feels and now your throat is being stretched to the very shape of his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wetness of your pussy coating your inner thighs. One hand slides down your belly, pushing your dress up so you can soothe the ache.
Priest!Nanami pulls his cock away, ignoring your whines of complaint, and through the holes of the privacy screen, he chastises you, “Now now, you know better than to feed that demonic spirit with shallow pleasure. Only a trained professional can wash away that which plagues you.”
“Yes, Father.”
Priest!Nanami makes shuffling noises in his side, and with a candle as your only source of light in the penitent’s chamber, you can only see only he hasn't abandoned you, leaving you aching and soaked.
The door bangs open, light blinding you momentarily, and you stare up at the silhouette of a tall, broad figure blocking you from view. You’re still kneeling, lips glistening. He appears before you, like an angel of the night.
Priest!Nanami is smiling, glasses hiding his eyes but you know they’re gliding down your form, stopping at your heaving breasts and your exposed thighs.
“Turn and face the wall,” he barks, and then adds, “Spread your legs.”
Clambering to position, you do as he says, pressing your hands to the cold wood and keeping your legs apart. The door shuts and you’re once again encased in partial darkness. A firm hand palms your hip, and you jolt with the sudden heat.
He yanks you closer to him, ass jutting out whilst your back arches. Something long and hard presses against you. You clench down onto nothing.
“So well behaved, the Lord would be very pleased,” he mutters into your ear, hot breath tickling you.
With one hand still on your hip, the other slides across your stomach, spreading heat there before it climbs up, palming a breast and relishing in the weight. His finger tweaks the nipple poking through the thin material, blunt nails scratching your taut bud.
“Father!” You gasp, ass grinding back onto him much harder than before. Your back arches painfully.
“It is alright, my dear. It is all part of the process — we must relieve you of this evil.”
Priest!Nanami yanks the neckline, revealing your breasts. They bounce with the force and graze the wooden wall. You moan. And then the hand on your hip is inching downwards, gathering the skirt of your dress into a fist which he orders you to keep up whilst his hand explores further the apex of your thighs.
His fingers touch the soaked gusset of your panties and together you groan.
Huskily, he chuckles, “I see this is a particularly powerful spirit; you’re so desperately trying to expel its force. But be not afraid, my child, I will search deep within and seek it out for you.”
With expert work, he pushes your panties to the side and coats his fingers with your juice, using the lubricant to circle your clit. You squeal. The untainted hands of the priest feel smooth against your smouldering flesh as he rubs that bundle of nerves with unyielding pressure.
Priest!Nanami’s mouth descends on the crook of your neck, sucking the salt of your skin before licking a stripe up the expanse. His fingers go lower, pressing inside your pulsing hole.
“You’re so tight, my dear. I see I’ll have to take extra care to alleviate you of your ailment.”
He curls those fingers inside, pressing hard against that spongy spot inside you that has you leaking onto his fingers even more. Again and again, he thrusts those fingers in, making sure to hit that spot over and over, ignoring the whimpers leaving your lips. Sloshing and plopping resound in the space, there’s no shame left inside you to care about the indecent sounds he’s wrangling out of your sloppy cunt.
“Oh, Father! I think I feel the spirit leaving,” you yelp.
He mouths at your jaw, teeth scraping the skin gently but with the promise of pain, before his thumb circles your clit. And then you’re shaking, back arching and mouth slacking as you feel the pressure inside burst. An elongated moan departs your lips, reverberating against the walls.
You're struggling to keep your dress up with one hand, whilst the other holds you up on the wall. Your limbs are aching, just like your insides, melting like candle wax, flooding down your legs..
“Well done, child. Fight against the demonic spirit, just like that,” he coos as you ride his fingers.
“Father? Are you in there?”
Another voice rings out. It’s dull, coming from the outside. You still.
Priest!Nanami doesn’t respond. But he removes his fingers from inside your pussy, smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing them inside your mouth. You suckle with no complaints.
In a low warning, he orders, “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me, yes?”
You nod.
Without hearing any rustling, he retrieves his cock from the confines of his trousers and rubs them along your slit. He’s so hard and hot, you’re resisting the urge to squeeze your thighs around it. Back and forth, he coats his length with your juices, squelches sounding out. His cock head catches on your clit, and you moan around his fingers.
“Father, may I come in? I’d like to talk to you about my son’s struggles in school. I fear I am not equipped to provide the necessary support and would like your guidance.”
Priest!Nanami he pierces your pussy with his throbbing cock. You scream into his palm, eyes rolling back. And with no further warnings, he’s dragging your hips back and forth, up and down his length.
Priest!Nanami scolds you, “Fuck, you’re so tight, my dear. What a devious cunt, trying to milk my cock before I can even -ngh- exorcise you of this demon.”
The stretch is immaculate, forcing your wet cavern to memorise the shape just as your throat had. And his cock pokes your sensitive point with every thrust, drawing dulled moans after moans from your drooling mouth, with every slap slap slap.
Messy and squelching, your pussy cries out at the huge intrusion, sucking him in and pushing him out simultaneously. He’s churning your pulsing insides, dragging his cock head all the way to that tight ring at your entrance before ramming back inside.
Priest!Nanami grunts in your ear, “You must have done -ngh- something very wrong for our Heavenly Father to weaken his protection over you, otherwise you would not have been so -ha- vulnerable to such a potent malevolent spirit.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” you beg, his fingers leaving your mouth so he can pinch your nipple, pulling it taut. “But I’m so scared!”
“No need to fret, child. I will -ha- eradicate you of all that is holding you -so tight- back from enlightenment.”
He’s pummelling his cock harder and faster inside of you, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that has you seeing his stars. Letting go of your hip, he uses his to force you into submission, skin slapping and juices flying as he knocks you back with the force.
Priest!Nanami’s hand circles your throat, squeezing every time you clench down on his cock. He’s robbing you of air, head growing lightheaded with the pressure. Your hips push back onto his.
“Father? I'm very worried for my son.”
Her pleadings continue, unacknowledged and barely heard, as he reaches deeper inside you, heavy balls slapping against your clit. You can’t ponder too long on the desperation in her voice because the priest is turning your face around to kiss you.
Priest!Nanami’s tongue dives into your mouth, seeking yours. The kiss is wet and sloppy just as you are down there, and he’s grunting with every thrust. You’re both growing more and more desperate for release, his cock ramming inside your tight cunt with an increasing tempo.
“The spirit is weakening; can you feel it?” He enquires, hand leaving your breast to pull yours away from your dress, guiding it, instead, to your lower abdomen. You can feel the outline of his massive cock going in and out. He presses your hand harder.
You feel that pressure inside grow, a sudden desire to pee overcoming you.
“No, Father! I can’t!” You whimper against the wall, hoping that the woman outside can't hear the way you’re panting, how your pussy is weeping, and how he's pounding you so hard you're seeing stars. He growls encouragements in your ear, fuelling your own pleasure.
Priest!Nanami kisses the back of your neck through the layer of sweat, tasting your skin. He leaves your hand and rubs your clit once more.
You cum.
Your vision goes black, a scream lodged in your throat as you squirt all over his cock, soaking his length and splashing against the wood.
“That’s it. Keep fucking yourself onto my cock,” he groans, still rubbing your clit as he himself cums with one hard, final thrust. Warmth explodes inside of you, painting your walls with his holy essence, punishing that demon within until it quietens down. “What a heavenly pussy, milking me so good. Such a good girl.”
“F-father? I’ll come back later,” the woman stammers.
In the distance, you hear the quick patter of feet fading further away.
You fall limp within his arm, heaving and still spasming from the effects of your orgasm. He holds you up in his arms, kissing your neck and whispering soothing compliments.
Priest!Nanami slumps onto the floor, taking you with him. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as he catches his breath too. His clergy collar is askew, and you fix it for him with a shaky hand. He grabs it and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“That was a good one, Kenny,” you breathe out with a giggle. “I told you you’d enjoy it.”
He grunts in agreement. “You’re always right, honey.”
“Of course, I am. But hey! For someone who was so reluctant, you were incredible.”
He kisses your forehead.
“I think you were incredible. Your acting skills have certainly improved.”
You laugh. “You weren’t so bad yourself — you had me believing I actually have a demon inside.”
Husband!Nanami blushes and his eyes dart up to the door, a hand groping your breast like his own personal stress ball, and with a sheepish tone, he admits, “The real priest is going to have a lot to deal with after this.”
You bolt upright. “Speaking of the real priest, his break is ending any minute now, we should get going!”
The door slams open and you both look up at an unimpressed man, long hair tied up into a bun as he sighs.
“You two again?”
#Jjk x reader#Jjk fluff#Jjk smut#Nanami x reader#Nanami fluff#Nanami smut#Nanami Kento smut#nanami fic#nanami drabble#nanami oneshot#jjk oneshot#jjk drabble#jjk 18+
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bored so
take a wild fucking guess
lighter
no, bugs
human
somegimes they’re blue usually they’re blue but sometimes they’re green which is fun cause when i’m drawing myself i can pick whichever fits the other colors better
im sorry i just suck
hair ties specifically the teeny tiny ones
idk i’m not in my room
coffee makes me think about killing myself so i don’t drink it
probably not slaughtering takes a lot of work it’s very tiring
does it have to be a sport i don’t know i’ll just say art
persona 3
last night
im indifferent
i have ocs
yes but i can’t park
no
water ✨
only if it’s homoerotic
soda
my unicorn plushie
uhhhh ugly
IM
IM SO HORNY FOR CHILLY WEATHER
it was at this point that i realized i’m supposed to know the person i’m reblogging this from uhh which i don’t do i guess nothing
no ew
not telling
im a shapeshifter
warm to hot, sometimes lukewarm if i’m sick of hot
yup
nothing once i’m up there i’m there until i fall back down
what
does minecraft count, i’m going around to fill up my starter map it’s fun
no
wouldnt you like to know
none i’m fairly new and also this is what i use on like every social media so it probably won’t change
dont think i have anyone
none they all smell like headache
only when my lips are really chapped
no
no
instagram, if use it more if i didn’t have a stupid 30 minute limit
im white so they make me scream 😔
nobody ? maybe like somebody that’s searching for euthanasia but they can’t get it and they like have a disease. i don’t really feel like killing someone.
watched wicked and uhh went to work yeah and went to a kinda fancy restaurant it was fun
uhh idk pass
“right sucker is a word you use for things” to nico
havent, i’m a youngster
havent in a while
sure why not though idk why you would
here’s weirder asks
who is/are your comfort character(s)?
lighter or matches?
do you leave the window open at night?
which cryptyd being do you believe in?
what color are your eyes?
why did you do that?
hair-ties or scrunchies?
how many water bottles are in your room right now?
which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?
would you slaughter the rich?
favorite extracurricular activity?
what kind of day is it?
when was the last time you ate?
do you love the smell of earth after it rains?
are you a parent? (all answers qualify)
can you drive?
are you farsighted or nearsighted?
what hair products do you use?
imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?
do you say soda or pop?
something you’ve kept since childhood?
what type of person are you?
how do you feel about chilly weather?
if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?
perfume/body spray or lotion?
a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?
about how many hours of sleep did you get?
do you wear a mask?
how do you like your shower water?
is there dishes in your room?
what type of music keeps you grounded?
do you have a favorite towel?
the last adventure you’ve been on?
is there a song you know every word to by heart?
what’s your timezone?
how many times have you changed your url?
someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?
a soap bar that smells good?
do you use lip balm?
did you have any snacks today?
how do you take your coffee?
an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?
what’s your take on spicy foods?
you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?
can you remember what happened yesterday?
favorite holiday film?
what was the last message you sent?
when did you first try an alcohol beverage?
can you skip rocks?
can i tag you in random stuff?
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Charthur short
Charles breaks his bow and Arthur gets him a new very special one 🥰
hello there! sorry this lil ask took too long, and sorry that it's not short haha. i love the idea of arthur doing anything for charles bc He's In Love, so here's my take of their relationship before getting together. i hope you enjoy!
It’s a well-known fact in camp and by his friends and by just about anyone that’s asked Arthur for any help making anything outside his expertise of shitty knives:
Arthur ain’t no craftsman.
Yeah, he can chip away at a rock and wrap it around a stick then call it an arrow, and he can weave a basket—nothing else, though, that’s about as far as he can get without Jack or one of the girls aiding his helpless fingers—and, sure, he can tie up a piece of line to any broken branch and head on down to the lake with the world’s most God awful fishing pole, but the truth still stands.
If Arthur had to choose between crafting someone an item and not having it fall apart after its first use, or getting shot in the mouth…Well, then, Arthur’s making sure that bullet goes straight through his throat and out the back of his head.
So why, in God’s green Earth, is Arthur making a new bow for Charles after he broke his old one?
‘Because you love him,’ Arthur thinks, gentle in the same way his cheeks redden at the mere thought of Charles, in correction to Eagle Flies’ snarky, “I don’t know, you asked me for help,” that lights up a spark of irritation in Arthur’s gut, makes Arthur want to shove him off the log he’s perched on.
“This may be the most foolish thing I’ve ever done,” Arthur says, twirling the knife in his hand that’s speckled in his own blood.
He stares at the piece of chokecherry wood in front of him, the branch now thinner than when Arthur chopped it off and whittled it down to a poor, uneven shape that hardly resembles a stick let alone a bow. It took a little over a month to get the wood and then season it, this process he wanted to do himself because it’s special, Eagle Flies said, to put your emotions into a piece of Earth and ask the land if it’s okay to take a piece of its tree for his own desires—for Charles, his mind keeps saying. So he can’t screw it up unless he wants to start all over again. Arthur can’t afford mistakes, but his project laughs at him, it seems, and Arthur, finding himself comfortable in his frustration, wants to burn it.
“A fool in love is stronger than any beast or man he encounters,” Eagle Flies says, crafting improved arrows to Arthur’s right. He holds one up to his eye and stares down the line of it. “Your affection for Charles is deep, therefore, your actions are foolish.” He shrugs, and motions for Arthur to keep whittling. “Keep going. You're nearly there.”
“I almost lost a finger.”
“Your lover will thank you.”
Arthur feels his cheeks go from warm to uncomfortably hot. He tips his hat down over his eyes to hide the deep blush spreading over his face. “Charles ain’t my lover,” he mumbles, a correction to a hopeful assumption.
Eagle Flies only hums as he places his arrow in his pile and Arthur kinda wants to fire all of them into the distance just so his friend can feel an inkling of his annoyance. Arthur does understand that Charles will be grateful, however, no matter how shitty his new bow may turn out. Sadie gave Arthur the suggestion, said that it’ll take Charles months to construct a new bow while Arthur can figure something out and get a new one in his hands in less than that, and Arthur—with his squirrel brain that as of five months, two weeks, and six days ago (but, really, who’s counting?) hasn’t been able to keep Charles Smith out of his head—ran with it. He overestimated his abilities in the fine art of craftsmanship (and thinking with any logical parts of his brain when it comes to Charles) and damn near killed himself gathering everything he needed to make a bow.
Arthur sought out Eagle Flies not too long after Sadie planted the seedling of the thought in his head, asking him what it’d take to trade so he could get his hands on any materials ready for bow crafting. Eagle Flies, with a light in his eyes and a kick in his step, rattled off a list of items his tribe needed. Fresh berries from the West Grizzlies, wolf and cougar pelts, big game from The Heartlands, eagle feathers from the highest cliffs of Donner Falls. He even had to wipe out a few rowdy stragglers who were camped up too close to the tribe, something Eagle Flies said about his father not wanting to wander into outlaw affairs so Arthur best get the job done because it won’t be too suspicious if a Van der Linde boy does it.
After choosing his tree and setting it out to dry, Arthur spent the better half of the week hunting and gathering, putting his neck out on the line for anything that can make Charles a bow as good as the one he made himself, and by the time he had everything he needed in his possession, he was more bruised and bloody than a shitty bull rider at the state fair.
Arthur knows it’ll be worth it, though. If it means he can do something for Charles—and maybe crack a smile outta him, Arthur’s a greedy bastard down to his core and he needs to be on the receiving end of just one of Charles’ rare grins—then Arthur will gladly do it all over again.
He huffs, loudly, and gathers up the remaining incentive to keep going. Eagle Flies said he's almost done whittling, then all that's left is to string the sinew, and add little decorative designs along the shape of it because every bow is different, none is ever exactly the same. That’s what Eagle Flies told him when Arthur first started this journey.
‘Every bow is unique in its own way. Make it your own.’
‘But it’s not for me,’ Arthur had said. ‘I’m makin’ it for Charles.’
Eagle Flies only looked at him, wearing the same face Sadie wore when she gave him the idea. ‘Make it for him, then, but give a piece of yourself into every step. Put your emotions into your craft, and make it yours. Both of yours.’
‘Make it ours,’ Arthur reminds himself as he gets back to work.
---------------------------------
One month, twenty-six days, and seven hours. That’s how long it took him to make a bow.
Arthur has more scars on his hands now than he ever did before he set out to make this gift, which granted him the full understanding of the saying ‘putting in the blood, sweat, and tears’ into something you love. Arthur loves Charles more than he thinks is capable of a man like him, so why wouldn’t he put in all his effort?
He’d do just about anything for Charles, that’s been established a long time, maybe even back then in Colter when Charles suffered from a burnt hand and Arthur did everything in his power to make sure he didn’t injure it any further. That was the start of it all, Arthur believes, and now in the present time, Arthur isn’t tending to his wounds anymore, instead, he’s tending to the ache in his chest telling him to do grand displays of affection. Like crafting an entirely new bow when Arthur is the shittiest craftsman from here to Blackwater.
Arthur sucks in a deep breath to steel the jitters in his hands, his fingers clutching at the leather wrapping of the bow like a lifeline, and walks a little way down to the lake’s shoreline. Flat Iron Lake ain’t that much to look at it in the daytime, the heat of Lemoyne making the sand feel like hot rocks and the water like a warm bath, but in the evenings, when the sun’s setting just right, a blaze sparks across the horizon, makes the bright blue of the water’s surface turn a flower petal pink, then a dusky orange.
It’s pretty, hell, Arthur would even say it’s beautiful, but he won’t. Nah, the most beautiful thing about the lake is when Charles stands at the water’s edge, his features painted in the ever-changing color of the sky, his hair long and wavy down his back, the outline of his frame strong, sturdy like a mountain, and just as gorgeous. He just stares out into the water, soaking it in, eyes soft in the setting sun, and Arthur can’t think of anything prettier.
Arthur swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, then, “‘Scuse me, Mr. Smith,” he calls.
Charles turns, his fair falling in front of his eyes when he sees Arthur, and, suddenly, it’s only them. Call it Arthur’s tunnel vision—hell, even call him crazy if it fits—but at the moment Charles fully faces him, the barest hint of a smile on his face (is he surprised? Arthur hopes so), the lake, camp, everything around them falls away.
“Hello, Arthur,” Charles greets, meeting him halfway along the shore’s edge. He stops just shy of a foot away, and Arthur has to resist the urge to pull him closer. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on that stagecoach job with John?”
“Nah, Martson can handle it.” Arthur clears his throat, then, before his brain can tell him to high tail it back to his tent, he thrusts out the leather wrapping. “I got somethin’ for you.”
Charles’ eyebrows knit together quizzically before he looks down as if just realizing it was there, his lips going all pouty in that way he does when he doesn’t understand something. “What’s the occasion?” He asks, gingerly taking the wrappings and undoing the ties.
“No occasion, Mr. Smith. It’s just—well, I thought that um—” Before Arthur can stop himself, his mind going from overly polite to ‘Don’t say anythin’ stupid,’ his mouth kicks into overdrive and rambles a string of words in a single breath.
“I know you broke your bow last time you went huntin’, and it’s hard tryin’ to find somethin’ like that in any ‘ol store, so I made you a new one—it ain’t as pretty as your last one—shoot, it probably don’t work much better neither, but I made it—for you—so I hope it gets the job done.”
Arthur’s head swims woozy by the time his words fall free, and his gut churns with anticipation as Charles looks upon the bow, his expression hidden by the shadow of the descending sun. Arthur’s feet are leaden to the ground, his hands trembling a shake so violent he hides them behind his back, and after a few seconds of agonizing silence, of Charles tracing the curved line of his new weapon with a delicate finger and tweaking the sinew strings, he lifts his head. Arthur’s heart jumps into his throat.
“You made this?” He asks, marveled, eyes the softest shade of brown Arthur’s ever seen on him.
Arthur clears his throat, manages a croaked, “Yeah.”
Charles just continues to feel it, grips over the leather wrapping of the middle part, and then, as if in a trance, his eyes land on the engravings just above. His thumb runs over it, gently, as if the bison might disappear if he’s not careful.
“You did this too?” His voice is so deep, so soft as if he’s speaking to Arthur in a dream that Arthur almost misses his question.
“Yeah. Eagle Flies helped, a ‘lil. Actually, he’s the one who taught me how to make it. I didn’t—I wanted to do it right.” The ‘for you’ threatens to barrel roll from his lips but Arthur swallows it down, forcing it to the back of his throat. “Bison are important to your family. So,” he shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant when his body’s buzzing like a hummingbird.
Charles’ eyes land on the second engraving, a buck that sits just below the leather, and something in the way he spoke, like a gentle rustle in the grass, shook Arthur to his core. “Is this you?”
Arthur nods, steps a little closer so he can brush his fingers over the buck too, just shy of Charles’ own. “The lines took the longest. Almost lost a finger while doin’ it.” Charles chuckles, endeared, and he’s smiling, a small barely there upturn of his lips that Arthur wants to sketch and keep in his pocket forever. “Eagle Flies said to make it special, to, y’know, make it my own. It’s yours, though, but I still wanted to have a ‘lil bit of myself there. So it’s—it’s kinda like ours—in a way, I guess.”
Arthur bites his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything else that will make his face redder than a fire ant’s ass. He hopes the flaming rays of the sun can cover his blush, but even his luck can’t make miracles.
“It’s beautiful,” Charles says, so earnestly that Arthur’s heart drops from his throat and does a can-can number in his chest. “It’s like you’ll be with me wherever I go.”
“I’ll go anywhere with you, Charles,” Arthur counters, baffled by the thought that he wouldn’t follow Charles to the end of the Earth. If he asked or not, Arthur’s with him.
Charles stares at him, then, equally as mystified. “You will?”
As if Arthur would be anywhere else. “Always.”
It’s Charles’ turn to surprise him, then, by lunging into Arthur’s person with the force of a bolder. He hugs him tight, squeezes around Arthur’s shoulders, and tucks his face close to his ear. He doesn’t say anything, not until Arthur’s body catches up to his brain and he wraps his arms around Charles’ middle, holding on just as close.
“Thank you, Arthur. No one’s ever given me something like this, or ever treated me this nice before.”
“I will,” Arthur says, his voice muffled by the fabric of Charles’ shirt, but still holding so much weight to it that Charles steps in until the entirety of their bodies are pressed together. “You’re my friend, Charles. I would do anyin’ for you.”
Charles sucks in a sharp breath. “Thank you.”
They separate far too quickly for Arthur’s liking, the sun nearly gone behind the mountains and the moon already high in the sky. Charles continues to stare at his gift as if he can’t believe it’s actually his like he can’t imagine someone going out of their way to give him something as heartfelt.
(In the back of his mind, Arthur vows to break that train of thought, to make Charles believe he’s not just put on this Earth to hurt, but to live, and, hopefully, to love.)
But still, even if Charles likes it, Arthur still has to say, “Sorry if it ain’t as good as your old one.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Charles scolds, his eyebrows knitting together. “It’s perfect.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “You and I both know my craftsmanship is shit. You don’t even know how it shoots.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Arthur. You’re more of a wonder than you think you are.” He smiles, then, closed mouth and so sweet that his cheeks bunch up under his eyes, and Arthur officially goes dumb. “Come. Practice with me while we still have light.”
He brushes past Arthur, up the little hill towards the small clearing near camp. When Arthur doesn’t move because he’s too busy reeling at granted something so small and special, something no one else in camp gets to see, Charles calls out to him.
“You coming with me, cowboy?”
Immediately, Arthur is next to him, standing so close their knuckles brush and a spark shoots out somewhere in the distance.
“Always.”
#charthur#arthur morgan#charles smith#arthur loves him so much it drives him crazy#charles loves him too he just doesn't know how to show it lmao#omgahgase writes#read dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 fanfic
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daisuke x reader | what are you doing new year's eve?
content: sfw, fluff, confession, daisuke calls reader "man" and "dude" but gn reader otherwise, mostly dialogue whoops
word count: 895
writer's note: jimmy only speaks once, but in my head this is an au where he does nothing wrong so reading it like that might make it more bearable. sorry for giving jumbotron dialogue </3
Holidays never meant much on the Tulpar - especially not New Year’s. Days blur together when you follow the same routine in the same place for months on end. Time hardly passes - and another rotation around the sun doesn’t feel the same floating through space anyway.
Still, your humble crew made the best of it. And now all of you were gathered around the coffee table with a cake in the center, waiting for the clock to hit midnight.
“Any resolutions, guys?” your captain asks. “Let’s hear it.”
“To find a new fucking job.” Jimmy states, crossing his arms and slouching back into his chair.
“Guy’s got the right idea. As much as I hate to say it.” Swansea agrees. His party hat has shifted out of place, though he makes no effort to readjust it.
“Oh come on, guys, don’t be such downers,” Anya interjects, trying to lift the mood. “We’re with each other, right? It’s not all bad.”
“Yeah, the New Year’s all about opportunities and fresh starts and junk!” Daisuke adds. “My resolution this year is to finally find myself a hot date.” he laughs, pleased with himself.
“Still,” you sigh, “It’d be nice to be home right now.” You rest your chin in your hand, hunched over a little with your elbow on your lap.
Daisuke smiles and pats you on the back reassuringly. “Don’t sweat it, man! We’ll be home before you know it.” He rests his hand on your shoulder, oddly comfortably.
The living room screen flashes to life with a faux-happy countdown to midnight. It’s far too bright, especially compared to the gentler nighttime graphic (“I miss it, but ‘tis the season, right?”). As the clock approaches 12:00, only some of you bother counting along aloud, though those who do are rather enthusiastic. And when the clock strikes 12:00, only some of you bother cheering. The ship’s speakers ring out with a joyous tune, and Polle’s artificial voice wishing his most valued team a happy new year. Your crew goes around exchanging handshakes and hugs and all the gestures that come with the New Year’s fresh start.
The last to approach you is Daisuke, who spreads his arms out wide, smiles even wider, and squeezes you tight in a hug.
“Thanks for everything, dude. You’re awesome! Couldn’t do it without you.”
Nobody takes a Pony Express internship for the company’s good reputation. Like your fellow intern, you were down on your luck, unsure of your future, and looking for something to get you on your feet. Luckily for you (or perhaps both of you), he made things a little easier. You’ve learned and laughed together since the start of your time on the ship. No matter how tough things got, Daisuke was always there, ready to crack a joke or offer a listening ear.
“Couldn’t do it without you, either.” you tell him in earnest. “You make it good.”
He lets go of you, his smile dropping slowly. Daisuke looks off somewhere to the side with the slightest flush to his face.
You tilt your head. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No, everything’s alright, I just, uh-” he trails off for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Can I talk to you for a second? Like, just us?” The flush on his cheeks deepens.
You look around to find that the rest of the crew has busied themselves with slicing and distributing the cake. “You’re sure everything’s okay?”
“Promise!” he says, pushing some confidence.
The two of you slip out of the living area and into the hall, walking a little ways away from the festivities and commotion.
“What did you wanna tell me?” you ask.
“You’re really cool, y’know?” he says after a beat of silence. “Like you’re always helping me and explaining things when I don’t get them and saving my ass from getting yelled at. I meant it when I said you’re awesome.”
Your eyes and lips raise into a small smile. “That’s really sweet, Daisuke. You’ve been great too, always keeping our spirits up. You’re wonderful.”
He beams, happily accepting your praise. You look him in the eye, anticipating whatever he might say next.
“But there is something I wanted to tell you.” Daisuke raises his hands out of his pockets hesitantly, his palms up. “Can you hold my hands first? I think it would help right now.”
Your eyes widen slightly in pleasant surprise, and you place your hands in his with a comforting grasp. “What’s up?”
“I’ve liked you, like, like-liked you for a while. Like, ever-since-we-started-working-together a while. So I was wondering maybe possibly if you wanted to, you could be my date? Like I was saying earlier?” He blurts out the words, nervous for your response.
It’s unglamorous - but it’s sincere and heartfelt and so perfectly him that you can’t help but break out into giddy laughter.
“Don’t laugh at me, that was hard!” Daisuke scolds in mock-frustration.
Your amusement dies down and you sigh contentedly, his eyes meeting yours.
“Yes, I’d love to be your date.”
Daisuke wasn’t sure when he’d hear the end of it. Maybe asking every other person on board for advice wasn’t worth the relentless teasing that would follow. But, he was sure it was worth it for his first proper New Year’s kiss, and for the life you would lead together back home.
#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#daisuke x reader#mouthwashing fluff#sfw#gn reader#mouthwashing game
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All of these hot takes are really making me feel left out lol. So um hot take:
c!Dream is autistic and the consequential misunderstanding and miscommunication is a root of all the problems and conflicts.
(Note: I say this as someone who is autistic and after being diagnosed at the age of 20, discovered that at the heart of 90% of my conflicts, now and in the past, is a failure in communication from being misjudged and misunderstood.)
#pardon if my wording here is poor I am as always happy to go into it further :) …. but like I figured I’d keep it short?#I don’t know I am interested if anyone else sees this or if I’m just projecting lol :)#c!dream#dsmp#dreblr#dream smp#dsmp theory#dsmp analysis#let me cook#autistic c!dream#dreamsmp#dream smp dream#dsmp dream#hot take#cdream#I don’t know does that count as a hot take?…..#autistic characters#this is fine#did someone order an essay?#autistic headcanon#cuz look I’m ready to write one… challenge me I dare you lol XD <3 <3
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I think we’ve gotten to the point where we can admit that Incorrect Quotes blogs are the worst thing to happen to fandoms
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Dirty Lil’ Secrets!
Synopsis. They all have their habits in bed - some so filthy you can’t help but keep them your dirty little secret.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, size differences, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), vibrators, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Choso’s side), praise, degradation, exhibitionism, fíngering, semi-public, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.8k
A/N. This came to me while watching Pink Panther, I think I should watch Pink Panther more often.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Take it or he makes you
Now, Toji knows he’s got a big dick - huge, even. And to him it doesn’t make a difference - either you take his fat cock like the good lil’ slut you are, or he shoves it in your snug cunt and watches you gasp so deliciously around him, eyes watering, swollen lips dropping into a pretty little oh!
“Ah- hngh daddy s’too big. I don’t think-”
“You will, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, leaning down till his breath is hot against your ear. “Because I’ll make it fit.”
Okay, maybe he lied - maybe it really does make a difference. Because right now, with you already so cockdrunk as he bullied his furiously leaking tip into your sloppy hole - Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder.
“Are- are you at least hngh- halfway in, daddy?” he hears you whimper. Cock twitching so animalistically inside you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation.
Toji can’t help but huff out a laugh, brows furrowed, greedy gaze stuck on the obscene way your pretty lips struggle to take him in. Pussy spread open so shamefully for him, quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below.
“Nope.” he hums, popping the p, reaching down to lick a long, languid stripe up the delicate tear streaming down your cheek.
God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge his throbbing cock into you till his heavy balls smack your ass. But no - not yet. What’s the fun if he can’t see you struggle a bit more?
Instead pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Each one has his prominent veins pulsing angrily against your walls, hitting that one spot just right. A maddening bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to.
Stretching you to your limits. You could almost feel his achingly hard tip hitting your cervix already.
Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in.
Feral grunts leave him at the way you moan breathlessly at each motion, scrambling to grab onto the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to ground you to your sanity as you’re split apart on his achingly hard cock.
Ah, how he loved this little song and dance. A few tears, a few whines - his lil’ slut pretending like you couldn’t take it all - as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. He loves your cute lil’ mewls when you can’t decide between wanting to run away or milk the soul out of him.
“Now now,” Toji tuts, looping two muscled arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising.
You let out a delirious squeal as he pulls you down down down - onto his thick cock. Plush walls taking him in greedily inch by fucking inch. Hungry for more.
He knew his pretty girl could do it - you always do.
“Don’t think you can run away from me, doll.” he groans over your pathetic little yelps of “Ah! Too- too big, daddy! Gonna break-”
“Then break f’me.”
And with that, Toji’s had enough of playing nice - ramming in the rest of his length in one, harsh thrust. Not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt.
A low hiss leaves him as his abs rub your skin, twitching balls finally smacking against your ass. Finally taking all of him.
Finally bottoming out. Ah, this is what he’s wanted for s’long - teasing himself just as much as you.
“Oh! Oh my- ah, fuck. Want it- need it s’bad. Please- ngh-” you mewl, hips bucking wildly. Too cock-drunk on the way the tufts hair at his toned pelvis scratch against your throbbing clit to even form proper sentences. God, you think you could almost cum just from the feeling of being so overwhelmingly full of him.
“Feel me in you, pretty girl?” he rumbles, low and dangerous. “Feel me right…” he trails a long finger in between the valley of your breasts. Featherlight touch dancing down, down, down to your navel, pressing hard onto your stomach, “...there.”
You gasp at the pressure, breath catching in your throat at the dangerous smirk curling his lips as he begins to pull out inch by inch - agonizingly slow. Getting ready to fucking ruin you. Because boy does it stroke his ego to see you absolutely wrecked by his huge cock, struggling to just take him - but this is where the real fun starts.
♡ NANAMI KENTO - The family man
Nanami’s a very steady man - he always has been.
A steady job, a steady schedule, a steady relationship with you. So, really, it makes sense that he wants a kid, or two - or four with the ways he’s got you folded in half beneath him. Legs thrown over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down-
A mating press. Nanami Kento had you in a fucking mating press.
And it was very dangerously quickly becoming his favorite thing.
You weren’t sure what to expect with that off-hand comment about wanting kids, but it surely wasn’t for your loving husband to fucking rip your skirt off and bend you over the nearest flat surface, throbbing cock now buried in your dripping pussy.
That was a few days ago.
And now every night without fail, you have Nanami’s seed dripping down your legs, still-achingly hard erection buried in your poor cunt - you doubt you’ll make it out alive this time.
“K-Kento- Hah- hngh, I feel s’full- so-”
“Shhh, darling. One more. Jus’ one more, all you gotta do is take every drop.” he hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Brows furrowed, sweat trickling down his temple, cock ramming into you at such a filthy pace.
Warm - so warm with his seed. It jolted some carnal part of him - all the way down to his achingly hard cock - to know that he was the one doing this to you. That was his cum filling your pretty pussy. And everyone else would know.
God, you can do nothing but sit there and take it as Nanami edges you closer and closer to your nth orgasm tonight. Thumb drawing rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit that match the merciless pace of his hips.
Over and over. A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.
Desperate, so desperate to get you off.
“Gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with need, mind hazy. “Gonna be so round and pretty with my kid, right, darling?”
You nod eagerly, as he increases his pace impossibly. Your skin stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your kiss-bitten lips each time his hips hit yours.
Drool drips delicately down the corner of your mouth at how animalistically he was fucking you. None of that familiar tenderness - only the pure, filthy desire to breed your pretty lil’ cunt full. All his.
“You can dress ‘em up, and I’ll take ‘em to school.” he rambles, as half-delirious as you at this point. Drunk off of you and your cunt and you. “And when we’re all alone…” he trails off dangerously. Ripping his gaze from the creamy, white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “I’ll fuck another one into you.”
“Ah! Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.”
You see white as you cum - or maybe that was Nanami painting your plushy walls with his seed, you can’t even tell at this point, too exhausted and cock-drunk. All you can feel is Nanami twitching inside you before he’s shooting thick hot spurts of his cum. Again. And again.
“Oh- Kento, t’much. There’s so much.” you moan softly, words slurring together. Sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so deliciously overfilled as Nanami’s cum trickles out of you, forming a wet, sinful pool on the sheets below.
“Feel it inside you, darling?” he doesn’t stop thrusting - rough, mindless movements from some deep-rooted, primal little part of him. Stuffing you deeper and deeper with his cum. Fully intent on filling you up until he was shooting blanks - or until he physically couldn’t. Whichever comes last.
Fucked-out little yelps leave you with wreckless abandon, mixing with the creaking of the bed at Nanami starts up yet another unforgiving pace, “Yes- Ah! I feel it, Kento. Feel it s’deep inside me.” “Mhm?” he purrs, teeth grazing your earlobe. Darkened eyes glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cum gushes out of you. Seeping into your skin, smearing on his abs - and his rock-hard cock. “Then, better be ready for one more, darling.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - The sweet-talker
If someone saw the ever-graceful Geto Suguru right now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes - and definitely not their ears. Such beautiful words coming out of such a beautiful mouth, but his actions were anything but.
And it doesn’t even matter the place, he’ll come up right beside you and whisper a few seemingly harmless words. “I really love that skirt on you, angel. Is this the one I bought?” he’d say to you at the convenience store, smiling sweetly at the old woman in front of him that sighs about “young love.”
Little did anyone know that right at that moment, the innocent hand in his pocket fiddles with that little plastic remote. The one he bought specifically to make you lose your sanity.
Intensity setting 2.
“B-baby?” you whimper, breath hitching as you feel the bullet vibrator shoved inside your dripping cunt start to turn up a notch - tiny, methodical vibrations against your snug walls.
“Yes, my angel?”
You could almost smack the innocent grin off his devastatingly handsome face. Geto Suguru could win an Oscar for how good he was at acting like he didn’t have a firm grip on your vibrator control. Thumb running harsh, quick little circles on the intensity.
“Nothing.” you grit your teeth, nails digging into his sculpted arm as you hold onto him for support. The little bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt maddening against your cunt. Praying that no one else here could see your dazed eyes and the way your thighs were quivering desperately. God, could this queue get any longer?
You almost miss the wrinkled hand waving in front of your face, the good-natured voice in front of you asking, “You alright, dearie? You look a bit under the weather.”
Intensity setting 3.
“I-I’m-” you choke, looking up at Geto for support. In perhaps a miraculous act of kindness, he peers down gently at the old lady. “Don’t worry, grandma. My love here has just been a bit sick today. M’taking her to the doctor after this, y’know. Isn’t that right, angel?”
Intensity setting 4.
Oh, not an act of kindness. Definitely not.
Panties completely soaked now, pussy clenching desperately around the vibrator. You shoot a quick glare at Geto, who was urging you deceivingly lovingly to answer. God, you could almost hear the laughter inside his mind as you take a steadying breath, stuttering out a barely audible, “Y-yeah. Sick today.”
You couldn’t care less if the sigh of relief you let out is audible to everyone else in the store as the elderly woman turns away with a nod. Mind focused only on Geto and Intensity setting 4 and Geto-
“Aww, what’s wrong, angel? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” you hear that familiar faux concern from above you. “Which asshole do I need to beat up?”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt
Gritting your teeth in order to not snap or just outright demand that Geto makes you cum right here, right now. Instead, managing out an unsteady little, “Turn it down.”
“What was that, angel?”
“Turn it down, I swear to-”
You’re cut off by hot breath against your ear, Geto’s voice hoarse with desire as he mutters, “Then cum. Right here.”
And as if to prove his point, he deftly runs his fingers along the intensity control once more, rubbing maddening little circles along it. Edging your climax and your sanity like the sadistic bastard he was.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt
And you could tell by the faint smirk curling his lips that he was taunting you - torturing you to just break or break him. Whichever comes first.
Thighs trembling, knees weak, you shiver as you finally reach the counter, Geto’s thumb now firmly set on Intensity setting 4 as he speaks casually with the cashier. How dare he talk about the weather when you were reaching a breaking point here?
Tears prick at your eyes - both at the pure overstimulation and the frustration of not being able to fucking cum. No matter how much you wanted to.
“Angel, you don’t look too well. Want to sit down?”
You clench your jaw, trying to maintain some level of composure as Geto pays for your items. Every second feels like an eternity, every nerve ending screaming for release.
You muster a weak nod even as you can feel your thighs quivering, blood roaring in your ears - you refuse to let him win. At least this time.
“C’mon now, let’s get you home and rested.” By the time Geto steers you to the exit, you’re practically begging for relief. His arm hot around your waist, your vision blurring at the edges. You’ve only made one step outside when-
Intensity setting 5.
You cum with a strangled yelp. Nails digging into Geto’s forearm hard - part in surprise and part revenge for all of that. His strong arm being the only thing grounding you - and the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the fucking ground.
Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and for a brief moment, all you can do is breathe, your eyes fluttering closed as your body shudders at the shockwaves of electricity. God, you almost think you see the pearly gates of heaven at the sheer intensity of your pleasure.
When you crack open your eyes again, you find Geto staring at you. Ah, an angel.
“Well, you should be thankful I went easy on you this time.”
Nevermind, it’s the devil incarnate. Geto leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Hope you’re not feeling too ‘under the weather’, angel. Because I’ve got a plan in mind and we’re going to be doing something much more fun than going to the doctor."
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marked up and all his
Choso knew you were hot - it only bothered him that everyone else did too.
Which is probably why you’ll often find him all but dragging you into the nearest bathroom at whatever party. Barely even locking the door before he’s got you pressed against the cold counter, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds.
“Choso, baby~” you whine softly from where his furiously flushed head was kissing your dripping cunt, barely audible over the loud thumping of the music from the other side of the door. “More, deeper.”
And, well, whatever his sweetheart wants - she will get. Because he immediately presses in, plunging inch by fucking inch into your sloppy heaven. Veins dragging so maddeningly across your walls as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.
“This what you want? To be split apart on my cock, sweetheart?” He groans into the crook of your neck, your sweet moans going straight to his aching cock. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, he nibbles lightly - all part of his plan.
“Hah- Hngh, yes baby. Jus’ like that.” Enveloping himself in your warmth, thrusting in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Not even wanting to get himself off - just wanting, needing to feel your pretty pussy around his cock. To prove to himself that you were his.
But it wasn’t enough.
Mouth still relentlessly marking and biting your skin, Choso guides your legs to wrap around his toned waist - a signal to pull, to use him to your heart’s content.
“Fuck, Choso- Fucking me s’good.” Your legs tighten around him, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s all Choso ever wants.
One hand deftly snakes it’s way down to your throbbing clit, rolling his thumb along the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more-
And the other - ah, yes, he can’t forget why he’s here - neat fingernails digging deep into your skin. Leaving pretty crescents in their wake - just below where your tight lil’ party dress hiked up. To show all those losers on the dance floor who you belong to.
Dragging. Marking.
His mouth leaves their place from your neck to whisper against your lips, darkened eyes boring into yours, “You’re mine, y’know that?”
You can do nothing but nod breathlessly into the heady air, hips bucking wildly underneath him as he increases his pace. Keening deliriously at the bruising grip on your hips and the even harder one on your poor cunt.
“Mine. All mine.” he grits out, twitching balls smacking your ass, rock-hard cock dipping in and out in and out in and-
“Those losers can’t fuck you the way I do, sweetheart.”
And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity running down your spine - and your nails raking down Choso’s. Red-hot patterns in their wake - and that’s exactly what sends him over the edge. “Ah- Shit shit shit, yes mark me till m’bloody yes-”
And maybe you do, because his throbbing cock twitches deeply in your pussy. Thrusting once, twice before he pumps thick, hot ropes into your fluttering walls. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name.
Two arms kneading your ass - wrapping bruisingly around your waist - touching any and every inch of skin he could reach. Leaving pretty little marks for days.
You can feel such a sinful, sticky mixture of his slick and your cum trailing down your legs as he fucks you both through your highs. Pooling at the cold counter, stomach now uncomfortably hot, vision blurry - yet you still manage to make out the satisfied grin on Choso’s face.
Pure pride shining in his eyes as he takes in your fucked-out state, marks blossoming along your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves.
Ah, success.
But he’s barely had time to bask in his victory till you murmur out a quick “Hold on.” Pulling him firmly by the collar of his t-shirt. Lips firmly slotting over the sensitive skin peaking out.
Choso’s breath hitches as you bite and tease the skin - a pathetic little imitation of the absolute wreck he’d havoced on your skin - not pulling away until you’re satisfied with the dark, red mark blossoming on his milky skin.
“There. Perfect.” you flash an almost-innocent grin at him. And despite all that transpired in this heady bathroom, this is what makes his knees weaken so desperately. Oh, how he loved being yours.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The show-off
If the King of Curses owns something nice and pretty, then you can bet he’s going to show it off to everyone and anyone that crosses him. It doesn’t matter if it’s human trash or some lowly curse he’s just about to kill, all of them have the same last sight - you.
You, sat so prettily on the hulking king’s lap. All doe-eyed and batting your lashes so innocently at him as he wielded chaos on his throne.
It made them almost want to save you from this monster, only to realize - if Sukuna was feeling particularly generous that day - that he was the last thing that you needed saving from.
Because if by some miracle, Sukuna was feeling generous - and decided that those scum that bow beneath him should see something pretty before they die - then they see you. Legs spread so shamefully on his lap, large arms the width of your head keeping them open for your guests.
Sukuna trails his rough fingers dangerously down your robe - one that does absolutely nothing to hide your curves or the heaving of your chest. Thin fabric tearing easily under his sharp fingernails, exposing such tantalizing flashes of skin as whoever’s watching gulps heavily in both fear and anticipation.
He doesn’t stop till your robe is all but hanging off you now, dripping cunt soaking the tattered fabric as you keen desperately into his touch.
“Shhh, my lil’ slut.” he murmurs, low and gravelly into your ear, hot breath sending jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. “Wouldn’t want to be rude in front of our guests, hm?”
Whoever’s bowing before you two don’t know what makes shivers run down their spine more - Sukuna’s dangerous words or the way you whine desperately. “But Sukuna~” grinding onto his very obvious erection as you do, “Wan’ you so badly, haven’t been filled by you today.”
Shit, scratch that. The scariest thing here was the deep chuckle that echoes across the throne room - the King of Curses laughing. Laughing.
They watch in horror - unable to rip their eyes away - as he snakes down two large fingers to your dripping cunt, spreading open your swollen folds. Absolutely delighting in the way you flutter around nothing - his lil’ slut, so desperate for him.
You buck readily into his hold as Sukuna bullies two large fingers into your snug cunt. Ready walls clenching down so sinfully at finally getting some of the friction you’d been aching for all day.
“Ohh, yes. Sukuna, finally. Wanted you in me s’bad.” you squeal as he curls his fingers deftly inside you, expertly grazing that familiar spot he knew would have you falling apart in a matter of a few seconds.
“So spoiled.” Sukuna hums, a sly grin curling his lips - and the scum bowing before him completely forgotten - as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole. Thrusting in rough, jerky little movements that no matter how filthy and unrefined they seem - hold a dangerous, calculated intent as he hits that spot over and over.
The ones before you find their cocks hardening traitorously at your breathy whines and the lewd squelching sounds. Torn between training their eyes on the ground and greedily watching your thighs quiver on the monster’s lap, cunt dripping so obscenely onto his robe.
“Look at her.” a sharp order jolts them out of their reverie. Sukuna didn’t have to ask, he knew you were a heavenly vision in his little hell. Yet, he continues anyway, amusement spiking at the way they can do nothing but gape at what they can never have “Look. So desperate f’me. Should I make her cum?”
“Nooo, Sukuna don’ be mean~” you whine half-deliriously at the silence that follows. Voice strangled at the merciless pace Sukuna had on your cunt, rolling your swollen clit on his fingers, dipping in and out in and out in and-
Sukuna chuckles darkly in your ear, over the protests of the trash at his feet, “Seems like they don’t want you to cum.” He increases his pace ruthlessly, over and over. Hitting that spot with reckless abandon, delighting in the way you writhe and convulse on his lap. “But s’alright, I’ll be the one to make you cum. Your king, hm?”
And make you cum he does. Adding three fingers into your tight cunt now, thrusting in and out at a pace that has you bowing into his hulking body. Over and over. Hurried. Hasty. Almost torturous for those watching.
“Ah! Yes yes yes, Sukuna~ M’gonna-” you can barely finish the sentence before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, broken moans of Sukuna’s name leaving your swollen lips. He doesn’t stop - not when your orgasm is mere tingles, your voice too raw to even let out fucked-out moans. Not even when you’re quivering and fidgeting on his laps. Not even when he leans down to mutter in your ear, voice husky with pure need, “Now, how should I kill these fuckers off?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Just a lil’ taste
The great Gojo Satoru loves all things sweet, and that includes you. Not just you, but your pretty lips, your sweet cunt, and the sweetest - something else he’d never admit to anyone but you - the taste of him in you.
And right now - bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt, his heavy balls smacking your ass over and over as he rams into you hard, fast - Gojo knows there’s something for him to look forward to.
The bed creaks in protest as he chases the heavenly feeling of your tight pussy around him, mixing with the filthy moans leaving your mouth.
He was probably going to get another noise complaint - good, let them nosy fuckers know how good he makes you feel.
“Ah! Hah- hngh, Toru filling me up s’good.” you mewl and buck your hips underneath him for more more more- wanting, needing the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. His glistening veins dragging along that one spot so deliciously, pulsing against your tight walls at an urgent, incessant rhythm.
“Oh yeah?” he grunts. Cock pushing into you deeper and deeper, cervix kissing your tip so painfully good. “Like this? Like it when I fuck you like this? Can’t get enough of it, hm?”
Because of course, Gojo Satoru can’t stop running his mouth even when he’s fucking you relentlessly. Even when his thrusts grow frenzied, sloppy with desire. And especially not when you’re creaming on his achingly hard cock.
God, you’re so fucking perfect he can’t help but lose himself in the heat of the moment as well.
Body arching off the bed, you see stars behind your eyes as Gojo cums in thick, hot spurts inside your fluttering walls. “Shit, oh Toru, s’full inside me hah-”
You think you probably cum harder just at the sight before you.
Gojo’s head thrown back, blue eyes prettily rolling to the back of his head as he bites his lips in concentration - desperately trying to fight off that feral, animalistic part of himself that just wants to fuck his cum deeper and deeper inside your dripping cunt. Wrestling that urge to breed you full to the back of his mind.
No, because he’s got bigger things in mind.
Bigger things that include urgently dropping to his knees as soon as your breathless moans bate. He wrestles your hips on the mattress, grip bruising on your waist as he pulls your pretty cunt closer. All wet and painted white with his cum, dripping so obscenely onto the fresh sheets below.
Mouth dropping into a soft oh! at the sinful sight before him, Gojo doesn’t waste a second before surging forward.
Nose-deep in your pussy, he doesn’t stop till he’s nose-deep and breathing you in so obscenely. Tongue bullying its way in between your swollen folds, dipping into your sloppy entrance in and out in and out in and out-
He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you.
Sweet.
The absolutely filthy mixture of his cum and your slick sliding down his tongue as he laps up your juices with the desperation of a madman. God, it makes the blood rush straight to his dick at the way your mouth drops open in disbelief - he never does get used to it.
Messy. It was so fucking messy.
“Mmm, s’sweet on my tongue, baby.” he slurs, drunk off the absolutely intoxicating taste of your sin. “Fuck- Can’t get enough of it. Shit.”
You flinch as he swears into your throbbing cunt. Seeing flashes of white behind your eyes each time he flicks his tongue just right to graze over all your most sensitive spots. You could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.
And you probably do really cry when Gojo moves up your dripping pussy, sucking on your swollen clit. Rolling his tongue over and over at the same maddening pace of the tears down your cheeks.
Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s done with his little feast - and moving on to torture you full time now.
Gojo huffs out a laugh into your cunt, popping off your abused clit with a lewd pop! Hands snaking down to grab his rock-hard base. Pulling in short, desperate little tugs to get himself ready for what was to come. “Yeah, m’done, baby.” he chuckles darkly. Shit, did you say that out loud?
But you have no time to wonder too long about that, instead stuck on that dangerous little glint in his eyes as he stands from his position nose-deep in your cunt. Swiping his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you.
Dazed, your eyes drift from his slick-glossed mouth down, down, down to-
Oh.
“Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna be feasting again real soon.”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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geeked up.
you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!
content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism
incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru
word count. 8.3k
soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee
COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.
A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.
The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.
"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”
He’s so polite about it. At first.
“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”
He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.
“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.
“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.
“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”
His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.
“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”
“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”
Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.
You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”
“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”
“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”
His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.
“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.
“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.
He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.
“Please, just take it out,” he begs.
How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.
"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.
Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.
You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.
His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.
You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.
You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.
Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.
Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.
On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.
He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.
“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.
Until finally he’s had enough.
In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.
His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.
"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.
You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.
With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.
“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.
You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.
“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”
You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.
His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.
He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.
He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.
You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.
"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"
You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.
Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.
His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”
Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.
"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.
You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.
But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.
“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.
The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.
You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.
But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.
KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.
Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.
He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.
While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.
You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.
Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.
He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.
"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.
"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"
Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."
You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.
"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."
He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."
"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."
Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”
"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.
Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"
You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."
His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.
Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”
"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.
Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”
You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."
Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.
"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”
"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."
"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”
You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.
You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.
"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."
You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so."
He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.
“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.
Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.
“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”
You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.
You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.
“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”
You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.
“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.
You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”
His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”
“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.
“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.
“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”
“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.
His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.
“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.
“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”
“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.
He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.
Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.
“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”
And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.
"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."
"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.
"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.
"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”
You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.
You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.
You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.
"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.
The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.
“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”
“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.
His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.
“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.
“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”
“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”
SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.
"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"
The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.
You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.
Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.
Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.
"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."
You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.
You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.
You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.
You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.
He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."
You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.
Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."
You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."
Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."
God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.
And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.
Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.
You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.
"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”
All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.
His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.
"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.
"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."
"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."
He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."
You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"
"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.
"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.
"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."
You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.
Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.
“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”
It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.
Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.
You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.
And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.
Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.
GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.
“Want a hit?”
Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.
“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.
Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.
You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.
“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.
“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.
But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.
His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.
You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.
Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.
“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.
“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.
“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.
“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”
“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”
“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”
“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”
“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”
You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.
“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”
He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.
He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.
“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”
He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.
“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”
“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”
He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.
Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.
You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.
“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.
“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”
“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.
You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.
"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”
"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.
"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.
Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.
“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”
You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.
“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”
You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.
“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.
“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”
Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.
But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.
“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.
You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.
His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.
“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”
“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.
“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”
“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.
His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.
“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”
“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”
“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”
“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.
“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.
He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.
“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”
“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.
“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”
A/N:
I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me
I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)
And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.
all the love always!
~pennjammin
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk smut#kento nanami#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu nanami#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk x you#jjk geto#suguru geto smut#toji smut#jjk toji#toji x reader#geto x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji zenin#jjk suguru#jjk satoru
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Practice [L.H]
pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.
warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W
word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.
“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.
Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”
“Met him online.”
“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”
You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.
“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”
You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”
“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”
He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”
Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.
“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.
“Help you how?” He asks, smug.
It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.
“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”
“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.
“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.
“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”
Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”
You nod quickly, “For practice.”
“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.
A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.
Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.
“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?
“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.
“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”
“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.
“Oh,” you say.
“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.
Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”
“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.
He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.
You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”
“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.
Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.
You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.
With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.
“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.
Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.
You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.
“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.
“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.
“What now?” You ask.
Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.
Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”
You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.
“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.
You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.
“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.
Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.
His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.
He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.
“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”
“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.
“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”
His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.
Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.
You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”
He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.
You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.
Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.
The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.
“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.
Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.
You’re wondering how much long–
“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.
You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.
Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.
He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.
Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.
“Spit.”
“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.
“Really?”
You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.
He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.
You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.
“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”
What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”
“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”
All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.
“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”
You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.
He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.
“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.
“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.
“Mhmm.”
He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.
Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.
You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.
“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.
He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.
You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.
Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.
It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.
Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.
He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.
With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.
“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”
You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”
Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”
You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.
Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.
“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.
Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”
You grin, “It was your plan.”
Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.
“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.
“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”
Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.
You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”
The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.
-
P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#james logan howlett#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#fem!reader#selfcarecap
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plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(
𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’
“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.
you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.
satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.
he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.
your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”
your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.
“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.
satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.
“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.
“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.
satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.
“pretty girl. you’re perfect,��� satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.
satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.
“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.
rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.
“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.
“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.
you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.
he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.
you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.
satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.
ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.
“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.
satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.
“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.
you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.
the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#jjk x you#gojo x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru smut
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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]
Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+
Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink
Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.
Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL)
This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!
You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.
An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.
You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.
A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.
Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.
Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.
Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—
Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.
“How did you even—”
Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow.
“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside.
A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.
Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.
His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.
“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.
Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”
“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.”
Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts.
Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom.
Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.
A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.
Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.
It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.
“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?”
You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.”
Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.
“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?”
You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you.
Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips.
Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.
Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.
“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses.
“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”
Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth.
He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”
You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes.
Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.
Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.”
He buries his grin into your shoulder.
“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.
“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.
You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.
Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.
The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.
“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.”
A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.”
Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs.
Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”
His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth.
Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze.
Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.
“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.”
And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.
He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.”
Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.
“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.
“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.
Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.
“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen.
He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.
Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.
“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.
Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses.
His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth.
“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.”
Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.”
“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”
He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to.
You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless.
Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.
“Hey,” Rafayel prompts.
Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.
Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.
The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.
“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.
Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”
“Yes.”
“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.
Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.
“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”
“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.
He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”
“Rafayel.”
“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated.
His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.
“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.”
“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.
“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.
“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”
“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.
“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.
The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.
Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue.
Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.
The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.
Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you.
You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.
“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take.
“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you.
Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.
Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.
You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.”
His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.
A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.
The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy. His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth.
Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone.
Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.
“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.”
He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours.
“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.
“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.
Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.
The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off.
You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.
You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.
Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder.
You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.
“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”
“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”
He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.”
You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.”
“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.”
You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.
“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?”
Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently.
“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.”
“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.
“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”
“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”
“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss.
Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.
“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”
“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.
“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?”
“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need.
Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.
A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.
“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls.
Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.
“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.
You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.
And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.
Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.
Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.
His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front.
The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.
Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”
Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.
His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.
He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.
Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release.
“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock. Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke.
On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.
“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.
You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure.
“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you.
“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”
Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you.
Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.
Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.
Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.
The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.
And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath.
It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.”
You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.
The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.
“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.
As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained.
Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form.
“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.
In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position.
Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”
“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection.
“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.
You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger.
His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.
A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation.
“Sylus—”
“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.
Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace.
Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.
End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.
Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.
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#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#lads sylus#lads smut#love and deepspace sylus#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#sylus x you#rafayel x you#zayne x you#zayne l&ds#zayne lads#l&ds smut#lads x reader#lnds x reader#lads fanfic#love and deepspace#rafayel l&ds#rafayel x mc#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#l&ds zayne#lnds zayne#lads zayne#xavier x you
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the need to know (l.dh) —part one
PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 13.5k in part one SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. i hope you enjoy! if you’re subscribed to my patreon, this fic is already published in full over there :) the next part will be up on wednesday, december 11th! :) friendly reminder that leaving nice feedback is incredibly sexy and very appreciated!
“I feel like we’ve been in line for these bumper cars for twenty minutes,” Haechan groans.
You check your phone and roll your eyes. “It’s been eight.”
“Well, eight too many! What’s taking so long?” he complains, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the numerous heads in front of you.
“Patience is a virtue,” Jihyo chimes in, and Haechan huffs.
“Well, I’m running out of virtue.” he mutters, and you snort. He looks over at you with a small grin. “You liked that, huh?”
“Yeah, that was kinda funny.” you admit, and his smile widens as he turns fully to face you.
“Well, you know what they say about funny guys,” he muses, and you look off into the distance thoughtfully.
“I don’t think I recall.” you say after a moment, and he narrows his eyes at you.
“They say funny guys are dangerous. They’ll make you laugh and chuckle and then they’ll make your knees buckle.” he announces proudly, and you shoot him a look.
“Literally who is saying that?”
“They are!”
“Who’s ‘they,’ Haechan? I want names and receipts, because I feel like you made that up.”
“Well, I don’t have names or, like, timestamps, but—”
“You have nothing to back you up, is what I’m hearing.” you reply with raised brows, and he scowls at you.
“You’re no fun. Why are you my favorite?” he mutters to himself, and you laugh.
“I’m your favorite?” you coo, leaning onto him with a smile, and he looks over at you with a smile he tried and failed to restrain.
“Unfortunately.” he grouches. “Hey, look, we’re moving!”
“See how time flies when you stop complaining?” you say as the eight of you move up. Shifting slightly behind you, Haechan steps on the back of your shoe, making your heel slip out of your sneaker. “What is your deal?”
“What are you talking about?” He’s the face of innocence, if you ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“You did that on purpose.” you point out.
“What’d he do?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you turn to her with a pout.
“He stepped on my shoe so it came off.” you complain, and Jiwoo rolls her eyes in Haechan’s direction.
“I did not!”
“You’re a bad liar.” Mark points out, and you smile, satisfied that your friends have your back.
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” he replies, maintaining his innocence, and you huff, glowering at him before turning back around. When the line moves up, he does it again, and you growl under your breath, whirling around to face him once more. “Hi.”
“Shut up.”
“Ouch?” He places a hand over his heart like he’s been wounded, and you roll your eyes dramatically. “Words hurt, you know.”
“Not nearly as much as I wish they did.”
He gasps, loudly and obscenely, and points at you accusingly. “You want to hurt me?” He looks you up and down with budding intrigue. “Why is that kind of hot?”
You sigh loudly, resting your hand on his shoulder as you fix both of your sneakers. “You’re insane, and you’re a nuisance, Haechan.”
“Only to you,” he coos, and Renjun clears his throat pointedly from his spot in front of you two.
“Not true. I also find you to be a nuisance.” he adds.
“I thank you for the support, Renjun, but you find most things to be a nuisance… so that’s not really a surprise.” you say carefully, and his brows knit together thoughtfully before he shrugs, nodding in agreement.
“Fair point. On the bright side, we’re almost at the front of the line,” he points out, and you shift to Haechan’s side as you all step up.
“Aw, you wanted to stand next to me?” he teases.
You blink at him. “You can’t fuck with me if I’m standing right next to you.”
“Is that a challenge? It sounds like a challenge.”
“And if I throttle him?” you announce to your friend group.
“He’d probably moan,” Jaemin says regretfully, and Haechan nods, eyes wide with glee as he presents you with his neck.
“I definitely will. Go for it.”
“Have you no shame?” Jaemin remarks, scandalized, and Haechan pauses to think.
“No.”
“Lovely. Great.” Jaemin mutters to himself, and Haechan smiles, pleased. “Can this line move so I can hit Haechan with my bumper car?”
“Agreed,” Jihyo says.
“Amen,” Mark chimes in.
“Retweet!” Jiwoo adds.
“Period.” you agree.
“Damn, even you?” Haechan exclaims, looking at you with a frown.
“Do you have short term memory loss? Did you forget how you deliberately made my shoes come off, like, two minutes ago?” you ask incredulously, and he rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I’m going to harm you physically.”
“Maybe come stand next to me,” Jihyo offers, gently pulling you forward in the line towards her.
“Yeah, and you come here.” Jeno suggests, yanking Haechan backwards in line by the collar of his jacket.
“I don’t wanna stand next to you!” Haechan complains. “You smell like weed.”
“I took an edible today.” Jeno remarks plainly, and Haechan wrinkles his nose.
“The stench is embedded in your clothes.”
“I washed this jacket yesterday.” Jeno answers flatly.
“Well, in my defense, how was I supposed to know that?” Haechan huffs.
“Can you shut up and move up? We’re next, I think.” Jeno pushes Haechan forward in the small of his back, and Haechan crumples with a wail, stumbling forward to clutch onto you.
“He stabbed me!”
“Poor baby,” you coo, embracing Haechan as he clings onto you.
“I cannot, for the life of me, make sense of you two.” Jihyo chuckles with a shake of her head, and you shrug, the movement difficult due to Haechan holding onto you.
“He’s cute when he whines.” you answer, and Haechan coos at you fondly, nuzzling his nose into your neck affectionately.
“I think you’re the only person who thinks that,” Jeno chuckles, and you shrug again.
“Don’t listen to him,” Haechan mumbles, words muffled by his face being squished against your neck. “He’s mean. He stabbed me.”
“I poked you.” Jeno sighs with a roll of his eyes.
“You jabbed me!” Haechan counters, and you stroke Haechan’s hair, shushing him gently.
“It’s okay,” you hum soothingly. “You’re safe over here as long as you don’t get on my nerves again.”
“I’ll be such a good boy,” Haechan promises, and your eyes widen in surprise, your sharp intake of breath catching in your throat and making you cough for a second.
“Did not expect you to say that,” you mutter when you recover, and he chuckles, tilting his head up to look at you.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he teases, and you blink down at him blankly.
“Shut up before I make you stand with Jeno again.”
“Shutting up.”
Finally, your group moves up to the very front of the line, the attendant briefly going over the rules. The eight of you agree to follow the guidelines and he lets you in, all of you scurrying to get in a car. You spot a cute, baby pink bumper car and get in that one, strapping yourself in and quickly familiarizing yourself with the controls.
The attendant hits the buzzer to begin the timer for your session, and you all start to drive around the course, quickly getting the hang of the controls and maneuvering the small vehicles.
You’re careening down the course when you’re bumped from the side, sending your car veering into the guards on the wall. You glare over at the culprit, Haechan grinning flirtatiously as he surges forward, repeatedly bumping your car closer and closer to the corner and more off-course.
“Haechan, pick on someone else.” you complain, and he scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
“You’re so fun to mess with, though.” he says with an attractive pout.
“God, you’re lucky you’re cute.” you mutter, missing too late the way his eyes flash with satisfaction and budding mischief.
“What was that?” he calls over to you, placing a hand behind his ear.
“I didn’t say anything.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Too bad? Not my problem.” you reply with a shrug, and he narrows his eyes.
“Don’t make me come over there.”
“How are you gonna come over here when we can’t leave our bumper cars?” you ask, rolling your eyes.
“I’ll get out and come over there and climb right onto your bumper car.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Jeez—” you mutter, huffing and puffing before admitting, “I said, ‘you’re lucky you’re cute.’”
He grins widely and runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up casually before he speaks. “How lucky am I, hm?”
You shoot him a wary look. “Haechan, what are you talking about?”
“I wanna get lucky tonight.” he says slowly, wiggling his brows, and you blink at him, waiting to see if he’s serious before an incredulous scoff-laugh escapes you involuntarily.
“I suggest you get real acquainted with your hand, Haechan.” you chuckle, starting to drive forward and bump him out of your way.
“You’re cruel,” Haechan laments. “What happened to me being cute?”
“You’re still cute,” you assure him, blowing him a kiss. “Just not that lucky.”
“Next time,” he calls out to you as you drive away, and you wave him off dismissively.
You half-wish you hadn’t brought up the image of Haechan touching himself, because now it’s all you can think about; his hand gripping himself, the way he might stroke—fast, slow, tight, with a flick of the wrist—
“Pay attention, girl!” Jihyo laughs, bumping into you as she drives by. Rapidly blinking out of your reverie, you realize you’ve been slowly veering in towards the center of the rink, your car riding along the guard rails, and you do your best to clear the Haechan-induced fog in your mind.
The rest of the bumper car session passes fairly quickly, with shrieks and giggles of delight and Haechan repeatedly bumping into you “by accident.” When you get out of the bumper cars, your legs are a bit wobbly, but the light, bubbly feeling you have in your heart more than makes up for it.
“Can we please go on a roller coaster next?” you say hopefully, and Jihyo frowns instantly.
“Those make my stomach drop… I’m gonna pass this time.” she says apologetically, and you nod in understanding, although your face falls a bit.
“We just ate corn dogs and funnel cake, like, right before the bumper cars, and if we go on, we might blow chunks.” Jeno explains, gesturing between himself, Mark, and Jaemin.
Jiwoo looks over at them in confusion. “When did you have time to get food?”
“We snuck off,” Jeno admits sheepishly. “Well, I snuck off… Mark and Jaemin just followed me.”
“You just sensed corn dogs and funnel cake so you wandered off?” Jihyo snorts, and Jeno looks even more embarrassed now than he did earlier.
“I smelled them…” Jeno admits quietly, and you blink, surprised.
“Okay, bloodhound.” you joke, and Jeno snorts in amusement. “So Mister Super Sniffer and his greedy nosy companions are out, Jihyo’s out… I can tell by the look Renjun’s giving me that he’s also out…”
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Jiwoo? Haechan?” you ask hopefully.
“I’m sorry, girl, I’m just—I’m kinda scared.” she admits quietly, a small frown on her face.
“Aw, okay,” you reply sympathetically, squeezing her hand gently. You look over at Haechan hopefully, and to your relief, his face softens into a fond smile. “That’s the smile you give me when I’m about to get my way,” you say excitedly, and he chuckles, something warm and inviting in his eyes.
“I’ll go with you.” he agrees, and you squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug. “Careful, now, before I ask you to ride something else.” he murmurs in your ear suggestively, one hand moving to clutch at your waist, and you gasp, releasing him instantly.
“You’re gross.” you scold him.
“What’d he say?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you narrow your eyes at Haechan before waving your hand at her dismissively.
“You don’t want to know. Let’s go, Haechan!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you to the biggest, baddest roller coaster you can find.
When you get in the line, Haechan sighs loudly as he looks at the numerous people ahead of you.
“We’re gonna be in this line forever, you know.” he complains.
“Worth it if I get to ride this thing.” you say, looking at the rollercoaster lovingly.
“You are so cute.” Haechan coos, squishing your cheeks until your lips pucker out.
“Can you unhand me, you fiend, you?” you huff, pushing his arms until he releases you with a frown. “You like being treated like a baby; I don’t.”
“Oh, really?” he asks, brows raised in a challenge. “So if I offered to hand feed you and tie your shoelaces and coo at you all the time, you wouldn’t like that?”
“Oh, I’d love that. But that’s being pampered, not being treated like a baby.” you say, and Haechan rolls his eyes.
“Same thing.”
“Nuh-uh! Pampering is treating me like a princess, not a baby.”
“Is that right?” he muses thoughtfully. You nod, and he chuckles, continuing on to say, “So I’m dealing with a little pillow princess, huh?”
“Hey!” you exclaim, looking over at him in surprise.
“Relax, I happen to love pillow princesses.” he assures you, and you eye him warily. “I do! Something about the idea of a pillow princess lying back and letting me do whatever I want to you…” he trails off with a dreamy smile, and you blink rapidly in alarm.
“Her?” you suggest, and he looks over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Huh?”
“You said ‘you’ instead of ‘her,’” you point out, and he nods slowly, clearly not getting your point. “The way you said it made it seem like you were fantasizing about… doing that… to.. me…” you say, trailing off slowly as his brows lift as if to confirm what you’re saying. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he copies you, stepping closer with a grin. “Now what, hm? What’s so wrong with me thinking about you like that?”
“We’re friends, Haechan. Friends don’t typically fantasize about their friends.” you remind him.
“Friends should be allowed to fantasize about their friends,” he counters, “as a treat. Especially when their friends look as good as you do.”
“You’re such a flirt.”
“You know you’re lowkey into it.” he replies confidently, and you hate that he’s right.
“Move up, I think we’re gonna be in the next group.” you say, deliberately shifting the topic.
Haechan eyes the moving line ahead of him and looks back at you with a smile that says he knows exactly what you just tried to do, but relents and moves forward regardless.
As he turns to move, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, realizing that maybe, just maybe, Haechan’s a bit more serious about his flirting than you thought he was, and you have yet to determine how you feel about that.
The smell of cheese and pepperoni pizza fills the bowling alley, almost a pleasing enough aroma to mask the faint but still present smell of sweaty socks and shoes. You sip your diet Pepsi and look around the room; there are birthday parties for children, teenagers congregated by the fountain soda machine, and a smattering of tired parents sitting in the chairs by the bowling ball dispensers—and then there’s your group of friends, eight twenty-somethings far more rambunctious and chaotic than the younger age groups present.
“You’re up,” Jihyo calls to you, nudging you gently, and you sigh heavily before setting down your drink and standing up, making your way to the bowling balls.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you announce loudly to your friends, and you pick up a sparkly pink ball, walking over and just rolling it down the lane with no thought towards strategy or physics or anything of the sort.
To your surprise, you manage to hit three of the corner pins, your ball coming dangerously close to landing in the gutter, and you hear Haechan snicker behind you.
“Laugh it up, Haechan; not everyone is good at bowling. Some of us have other strengths.” you huff, glowering at him, and he raises his hands in defense.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”
“You laughed. That’s arguably worse than saying anything.”
“Maybe you should stick to the influencer thing… live life on easy mode, you know?” he says with a wry grin, and you watch as Jiwoo freezes, Jaemin audibly gasps, Mark smacks Haechan on the arm, and Jeno and Renjun exchange a look of disapproval.
“Oh, that’s not–” Jihyo starts, but you hold up a hand to silence her.
“Haechan, do you have any idea how difficult my job is? Just because I don’t spend my days learning the intricacies of Cobra—”
“Python,” Haechan corrects.
“Whatever! Just because I don’t have to submit pages upon pages of technical jargon to my boss, that doesn’t mean I have it easy.” you huff, placing your hand on your hip as you stare him down.
“How hard can it be to be an influencer?” Haechan says with a dismissive roll of his eyes. “I have to submit a code to my boss by midnight, and you have to, what? Do a TikTok?”
You glower at him. “You’re horrible. My job comes with the constant pressure of maintaining public approval, and you know how they have hive minds on TikTok! One day, you’re good, the next week, you could be nothing and everyone’s in your comments talking about, ‘Oh, you fell off,’ or, ‘Not you flopping.’”
Haechan levels his gaze at you, raising an eyebrow. “You get to go on social media and shake your cute little ass for a living… stop whining.”
You blink at him for several beats, processing which part of his statement to address first. “...Did you just call my ass little?”
He rolls his eyes and stands up from his spot, walking in the narrow space between you and the bowling ball dispenser. “More importantly, I called it cute.” he points out, and you can’t help but smile. “Personally, I think your ass is perfect.” He murmurs in your ear, and you hum softly in acknowledgement.
“Oh, yeah? Is that why you spend so much time looking at it?” you ask, and he grins.
“Absolutely. How else do you think I made such an astute observation?” he chuckles, picking up an emerald green bowling ball and lifting it in the air. You watch as his forearm muscles tense with the strain of managing the extra weight of the ball and do your best to hide your staring. “Why? Does that bother you?” he wonders, raising his eyebrows handsomely.
You think about it for a second. “It probably should, huh?”
Haechan grins brilliantly. “Does that mean you like it?”
“I never said that.” you reply, shooting him a look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
He chuckles and turns from you briefly to bowl, the ball rolling down the lane in a perfect straight line before it hits the center pin and subsequently knocks every other pin down. He turns back to you, smiling smugly, and says, “It’s all in the subtext, baby.”
“Baby?” you echo incredulously.
“Yes?” he answers as if you’ve called him, eyes glinting with mischief, and you roll your eyes with an undeniable smile growing on your lips.
“You’re too much.” you mumble, laughing softly, and he smiles at you, his eyes twinkling.
“Can’t handle it?” he murmurs in your ear as he passes by you, heading back to his seat.
“Never said that, either,” you say as you walk over to him and sit beside him. “Just think it’s kinda crazy to call me ‘baby.’”
“Why is that crazy?” he hums, reaching behind you to rest his arm on the bench behind you, his fingertips grazing your shoulder. “Should I call you something else? Honey, baby girl, angel, babe—”
“Shh!” you giggle, reaching to cover his mouth, but he dodges your attack smoothly, eyes alight with mirth as he joins in on your laughter.
“What? Pretty, gorgeous, cutie, sexy—” he continues, dodging your attempt to silence him again and grinning cheekily. “I could do this all night.”
“Please don’t,” Mark and Jeno pipe up in unison. You look over at them with a slight jump, having temporarily forgotten you and Haechan aren’t even remotely alone in this building.
“Killjoys.” Haechan mutters mostly for your ears, and you laugh quietly, covering your mouth to remain inconspicuous. “It’s your turn again,” he points out with a jerk of his chin at the lanes as he pops a piece of gum in his mouth, and you manage to tear your gaze away from his jaw and the attractive way it moves as he chews for long enough to stand up and walk over to the lanes again. “Want them to put up the rails?” he teases, and you turn back to glare at him. “I’m just trying to help you out,” he says, hands raised defensively, and you raise an eyebrow.
“Maybe you should come show me how to do it, then.” you suggest with a small smile, and he chuckles before rising to his feet and striding over to you.
He’s quick to place his hands on your sides, squeezing gently before carefully repositioning you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to slide down to your hips, pulling you back against him so close you can feel his chest rising with every inhale he takes.
“You wanna start with your feet like this,” he murmurs in your ear, manually moving your legs by holding under your thigh just above the back of your knee until he’s satisfied.
“Like that?” you muse softly, looking over your shoulder at him, and he sucks in a breath before chuckling to himself under his breath and nodding.
“Just like that.” he assures you, but the way his voice dips when he says it leads you to believe there’s a suggestive meaning to his words. “Next, you’re gonna bend your arm like this and hold the ball just a bit in front of your shoulder.” he instructs gently, and when you do as he says, he smiles, pleased. “That’s it,” he encourages you, his voice dropping to a deliciously low pitch with that same suggestive lilt. “Bend your knees a little bit and put the foot that’s gonna slide slightly behind the foot that’s gonna stay still.” You do, looking back at him for approval, and he nods proudly. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” you say confidently, and he squeezes your hips slightly before releasing you. You send the ball rolling down the lane in a perfectly straight beeline for the center pin, the ball knocking it and all the pins behind it over, and you squeal with excitement, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck and pulling him in for a hug. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer, and just like that, the vibe of the hug shifts, his touch electrifying you as he tucks his face in your neck, breathing in deeply.
“Good job,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin ever so slightly but making you shudder nonetheless.
There’s a loud, obscene retching noise from behind you two, and you both break apart in alarm, turning to look at the source of the noise, Renjun sitting with a very displeased expression on his face and his arms crossed.
“Can we help you?” Haechan asks slowly.
“Yeah, you can get a room.” he says with a grossed-out scowl, and you remove your arms from around Haechan’s neck sheepishly, warmth blooming in your cheeks.
Haechan doesn’t release you just yet, though, still maintaining a firm grip on your waist and the small of your back until you clear your throat gently and his gaze shifts from glowering at Renjun to looking down at you with a question in his eyes. Your throat dries, not expecting his full attention so suddenly, and he lets out a tiny chuckle, lips quirking up into a smile before his eyes drop to your lips.
Your lips part subconsciously, and his grip on you tightens slightly before Jeno clears his throat pointedly, garnering your attention once more.
“Yes?” Haechan asks impatiently.
“A room. Get it.” Jeno remarks with a grimace, and you carefully pry Haechan’s hands off of you, since it seems like he won’t be doing it himself.
“Don’t be a hater,” Haechan remarks with a huff. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Desperation isn’t a good look on anyone, either, but here you are.” Jeno counters, and Haechan frowns before he looks back at you with a pout.
“He’s so mean,” Haechan whines dramatically, pulling you to stand in front of him. He points at Jeno accusingly. “He hurt my feelings.”
“Don’t worry, Haechan,” you coo, turning to face him. “I happen to think you look very cute when you’re desperate.”
He grins. “Thanks.” His brows furrow in thought a second after, and you wait patiently, eyebrows raised expectantly, for the rest of the sentence to kick in. “Wait—hey!”
“There it is.” you chuckle. “For a software designer, your processing is surprisingly slow.”
“You’re mean, too.” he laments, pouting in a way that’s somehow both cute and handsome. “You’re lucky I kinda like it when you’re mean.”
“Oh, do you?” you muse thoughtfully, reaching up and running your hand through his hair. His eyes flutter shut and a blissful smile makes its way onto his face. “Do you prefer it when I’m mean or nice?”
“Nice, for sure.” he sighs happily as you repeat your motions of playing with his hair. “I like when you dote on me.”
“Is that why you’re such a whiny baby?” you chuckle, and he nods.
“Only for you.”
“Aren’t I lucky?” you drawl sarcastically, and Renjun snorts.
“I’d consider the rest of us deeply unlucky for having to witness it.” he chimes in, and you look back at him.
“Then close your eyes.” you hum dismissively, and Renjun gasps in disbelief.
“I think they’re worse when they’re on the same page.” he remarks to Jeno, who nods.
“They’re definitely worse together, if you ask me.” he agrees, and Haechan opens his eyes to narrow them at Jeno.
“Good thing I didn’t ask, then.” you reply, and Haechan grins at you.
“That was hot.”
“Down, boy.” you warn him playfully, and he wets his lips slowly and deliberately, grinning when your gaze drops to his mouth. “What did I just say?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t listening.” he says with a cheeky grin. “Got distracted.”
“By what?”
“Take a guess.” he suggests, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks you up and down.
“There’s, like, no hope for you, is there?” you laugh, and he shakes his head.
“No, ma’am.”
(You ignore the way the term of respect makes something tingle inside of you.)
“Guys, I think Deadpool tickets sold out,” you say worriedly as you enter the movie theater.
Jihyo looks over at you, confused. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, it says ‘Deadpool sold out’ right under the movie time listings, so… that kinda gave me a hunch.” you explain, pointing right at the sign, and Jihyo frowns.
“Maybe that’s an old sign,” Haechan says, striding over to the front desk confidently. “Hi, can we get eight tickets for Deadpool, please?” You don’t get to hear the woman’s response, but you do see her point behind herself at the sign you very much just pointed to. Haechan’s shoulders slump slightly and he walks up to your group once more. “They’re sold out.”
“Gee, how unfortunate. If only there was some way we could have known… some sort of sign, perhaps… maybe one that your dear friend already pointed out…” you lament sarcastically, and he narrows his eyes at you.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Oh, I can. Not only can I, but I will.” you retort, and he scrunches his nose at you.
“Well, can you two stop doing that weird foreplay banter thing you do so we can pick a new movie to watch?” Mark asks, and you splutter, surprised.
“That is not what we’re doing—” you start to defend yourself, but Haechan cuts you off.
“No, no, no, that is what I’m doing.” he says, and you slowly turn to look at him in disbelief.
“You shut up.” you huff, crossing your arms. “What are we gonna watch now?”
“We could watch The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” Renjun suggests. “They’re re-releasing it.”
“How about we not?” Haechan says instantly, brows knitting together in distaste.
“No, I think it’d be fun!” Jiwoo chirps.
“I’d rather actually be able to sleep tonight, thanks.” you disagree, shifting to stand next to Haechan.
“Well, how about we just split up and see what we want?” Jihyo suggests, and you shrug, looking over at Haechan.
“Wanna see a romcom or something?” you ask him, and the corner of his lips quirks up into a smile.
“Sure thing.” he replies, and Renjun gags.
“Can we go get the tickets now?” he half-requests, half-pleads. “I can’t bear witness to whatever these two have going on for much longer.”
“You dramatic ass whiny baby.” you scoff, and Renjun glowers at you.
“You call me a whiny baby, but when Haechan goes on his whiny baby tirade, it’s all ‘poor Haechan,’ and ‘poor baby;’ what about me?!” he complains, and you raise an eyebrow in amusement.
“Renjun, if you want me to baby you, you could just ask.”
“No, you can’t,” Haechan cuts in, taking your hand and pulling you towards the ticket booth.
“Wh—Haechan!” you laugh incredulously.
“I’m the only one you can dote on,” he huffs petulantly at you before turning his attention to the attendant at the ticket booth. “Good evening; could we get two tickets to, uh…” he looks over at you and you roll your eyes with a smile before scanning the movie listings briefly.
“We Live In Time,” you finish, and he nods resolutely.
“We Live In Time,” he echoes, and the attendant smiles and nods, typing something into the computer.
“That’ll be $20,” she says, and Haechan reaches into his back pocket and pulls his phone out, tapping it to the card reader.
“Ooh, and you paid? What a gentleman,” you pretend to fawn over him, and he chuckles.
“You know I’ve got you, baby.” he remarks casually, and his sincerity stops you in your tracks.
Why was that so attractive?
The attendant prints out two tickets and hands them to Haechan, who takes them with a smile and a “thank you” before looping his fingers with yours once more and leading you further into the movie theater.
You want a snack from the concession stand?” Haechan asks as you two walk by it, and you look over at him.
“Maybe? Why; are you buying?” you half-laugh, not expecting him to agree.
“Yeah, come on.” he urges, leading you over to the snacks. “What do you want?”
“Sour Patch Kids,” you answer, pointing at the box. “The strawberry ones.”
“Good choice,” he remarks, amused as he takes the box from the display and hands it to the guy behind the counter. “Can we also get a large popcorn?” He turns back to look at you. “You want something to drink?”
Taken aback by but admittedly attracted to this energy from him, you nod—obediently, even. “Sprite, please—no ice.”
“Large Sprite, no ice, and a large Mountain Dew, please?” he finishes the order and you step forward to stand beside him, trying your best not to look at him with hearts in your eyes.
When you two get to the theater where they’re showing your movie, Haechan gestures for you to lead the way, so you do, picking a spot close to the back of the theater and sitting down.
He sits down next to you, setting the popcorn between your seats, and drapes an arm over the back of your chair.
“How smooth,” you drawl sarcastically, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“You know you like it.” he replies confidently, and you try to hide your smile as you focus your attention on the screen as the trailers start to play.
It’s about thirty minutes into the movie, and paying attention is harder than you thought, considering Haechan’s doing everything in his power to make you focus on him instead.
At one point, you reach for popcorn, startling yourself when instead of feeling a buttery popcorn kernel, you feel the warmth of Haechan’s fingers.
“It was fate,” he coos sweetly at you, and you narrow your eyes at him playfully.
“Move your hand or I’ll throw popcorn at you.” you threaten, and he laughs, tipping his head back in mirth.
“You’re so cute,” he sighs in delight, eyes twinkling as he watches you fondly. “Fine, I’ll move my hand—”
“Great.”
“But you have to feed me a piece of popcorn.” he says with a smirk, and you blink at him incredulously.
“You’re really something, you know that?” you chuckle, picking up a piece of popcorn and bringing it to his lips. “Open.”
He obliges, sticking his tongue out flat, and you place the fluffy popped kernel on his tongue, trying the whole time not to think about how nice his tongue looks, glistening in the light from the movie screen.
“Thank you,” he hums, chewing happily, and you snap out of it, clearing your throat and returning your attention to the movie. “What a coincidence that it’s just the two of us,” Haechan remarks quietly, and you turn your head to look at him. “Are you sure you didn’t just want a chance to be alone with me?”
You sigh. “Haechan, this movie was my idea. You followed me in here.”
“Watch that cute little mouth of yours before I revoke your snack privileges.”
“You touch my snacks and I’ll make you wish you were at the mercy of that Texas Chain Saw Massacre killer.” you promise him, and he exhales quietly through his nose in amusement.
“Don’t worry, baby; I wouldn’t actually dream of getting between your snacks and your little sweet tooth.”
“Good.”
“Actually,” Haechan muses, and you turn to look at him again. “That’s probably why you and I get along so well.”
It’s your turn to exhale through your nose in a quiet laugh. “Why, because you have a sweet tooth, too?”
“Because I’m sweet.” he answers plainly, like it was obvious, and your snort of amusement is loud enough that someone else in the theater shushes you.
“Is that what your mom tells you?” you tease, and he glowers at you.
“Hey! I’m a delight!”
“Didn’t say you weren’t,” you reply with a smile, and he matches it, leaning a little closer as his eyes drop to your lips.
“Wanna see how sweet I can be?” he asks softly, and you find your breath hitching as he leans even closer.
His lids drop slightly in preparation for the kiss, but you press a Sour Patch Kid treat to his lips instead, smiling innocently when he opens his eyes with a slow flutter.
“What was that for?” he whines slightly, and you raise your eyebrows.
“You seemed like you wanted to taste something sweet.” you hum, and he frowns handsomely at you.
“You know what I wanted.” he huffs, and you shrug, returning your attention to the movie.
“Pay attention to the movie.”
“I’d rather pay attention to you.”
“And as much as I love attention, I’m trying to pay attention to the movie, which I am struggling to do with your repeated attempts to put the moves on me.”
“Oh? I’m distracting you?” he murmurs, a smug smile audible in his voice. “Sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay, baby,” you say as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath, promptly choking on the piece of popcorn and making you whip your head around to look at him in alarm.
He glowers at you as he recovers, your eyes bright with amusement once you’ve assessed that he’s in no real danger. “That was evil.”
“I’m evil.”
“That’s hot.”
“Haechan?”
“Yes, baby?”
You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “Pay attention.”
“Maybe I could if you weren’t flirting with me.”
“Get real, Haechan.” you snort.
“Baby, there’s no one realer than me.”
“Baby,” you say, stressing the pet name, “pay attention and stop flirting with me before I stuff more popcorn down your throat.”
“Damn, that’s kinda hot.”
“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, laughing in surprise and incredulity, and several voices shush you from around the theater.
“Can’t help it; you’re kinda hot when you’re bossing me around.” he defends himself, and you roll your eyes.
“Get a hold of yourself.” you huff, and he frowns.
“I’d rather get a hold of you instead.”
“I’m sure. Too bad.”
“God, you’re a tease.” he sighs dreamily, and you shoot him a funny look out of the corner of your eye.
“Sure, if that’s what’ll make you shut up.”
“I kinda love it.”
“Shut up before you get us kicked out!” you whisper insistently, your cheeks warming at his incessant flirting.
“Mm, yes, ma’am.” he groans, the sound so suggestive you whip your head around to look at him in surprise, scandalized. “I like when you’re bossy.”
“I’m ignoring you now.”
“You can try.”
“I will succeed.”
“You’re already failing,” he points out with a grin, and you scowl at him, pointedly looking forward at the screen without another word.
Even with the music filling the room and the numerous bodies in between you two, Haechan’s staring is getting harder and harder to ignore. His eyes bore into you from all the way across the room where he stands talking to Jeno and Mark, and it’s so intense it’s almost palpable, prompting you to meet his gaze with a raise of your eyebrows.
He grins, flicking his eyebrows upwards, and you chuckle, turning your attention back to Renjun’s rant about his neighbor.
“...and then he had the nerve to tell me to ‘keep my music down’ as if he’s not up at the asscrack of dawn doing construction in his apartment!”
“What a hypocrite,” you say with a grimace, and Renjun nods vigorously, relief written all over his face.
“I’m surprised you even heard any of that,” Jihyo remarks, raising an eyebrow at you as she sips at the straw sticking out of her drink.
You shoot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Well, with all the eye-fucking you and Haechan keep doing, I figured you were a little preoccupied.” she comments, and you narrow your eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, turning your nose up with a sniff.
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t lie to me.” she says with a playfully stern look. “Now, what’s going on with you and Haechan?”
“Yeah, what is going on with you and Haechan?” Renjun asks curiously, leaning forward in anticipation to hear you better.
“Nothing!” you say defensively, and Jihyo arches an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah? Then why is he coming over here?” she asks with a knowing smile that only grows when you subconsciously fix your hair as, sure enough, Haechan approaches, eyes on you the whole time. “Hi, Haechan.”
“Hey,” he replies distractedly, tilting his head to the side as he regards you. “Hi,” he says to you, his lips quirking up into a smile.
“Hi,” you answer, mirroring his expression.
There’s a beat of silence before Renjun speaks. “‘Hi, Renjun. How was your day? I totally see you standing to my right, and I’m definitely not ignoring you like a piece of lint—’”
“Hi, Renjun.” Haechan says with a laugh, and Renjun glowers at him, muttering something under his breath about going where he’s appreciated before stalking off, presumably to subject another one of your friends to his tirade about his neighbor. “You having fun?” he asks you, and you nod, prompting him to smile widely and puff out his chest slightly before saying, “More now that I’m here, right?”
“Sure, Haechan,” you reply with a small laugh, and Jihyo just raises her brows at both of you.
“I’m gonna go find Jiwoo,” she says, shooting you in particular a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd of people.
Haechan immediately steps into the space she occupied, now much closer to you, and his smile widens even more before he speaks, murmuring, “I like your top. You look so good tonight, but I’m sure you knew that.”
“I did,” you confirm, and he snorts. “But thank you. You look good, too.”
“Oh, yeah? We’re kind of matching.” he points out, gesturing to your black lace up top and his dark gray Nirvana t-shirt.
“Are we? That’s gray.” you reply with a growing smile.
“Dark gray and black are practically the same color.”
“But are they actually the same color? No.”
“Why are you being difficult?” he says with narrowed eyes, and you shrug.
“It’s my specialty.” you answer with a beguiling smile, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he feigns exasperation.
“Anyway,” he stresses the word, shifting the conversation. “Do you wanna get some fresh air with me?”
“Mm, not really; it’s kinda cold outside.” you say with a small pout.
“You can wear my jacket,” he offers, and you pause, thinking about it.
“Maybe later. For now, do you wanna come with me to the kitchen? I want a snack.” you ask, and he smiles at the invitation before nodding.
“Lead the way, baby.” he coos, and you roll your eyes with a smile as you do just that, reaching back to link pinkies with him.
“So we don’t get separated,” you explain.
He beams. “Good idea.”
You two make your way through the throng of bodies and into the kitchen, where you promptly start raiding the cabinets.
“I love Jeno and Jaemin to death, but their snack selection is shit.” you huff in disappointment, turning back to Haechan to see that he’s propped himself up against the kitchen counter, watching you with amusement and intrigue.
“Jeno went on a snack purge the other day,” he reminds you. “Said something about overly processed foods and saturated fats.”
“Well, sorry if I like my foods overly processed and my fats saturated.” you gripe, and Haechan laughs, pushing off the counter to walk over to you.
“I think they have fruit in the fridge,” he says, leaning into your space to open the refrigerator door. He pauses before he pulls back, eyes trained on your lips and his own lips part in a soft sigh, tongue poking out to wet them.
“The snacks?” you remind him with a growing smile, unable to resist glancing at his very tempting mouth.
“I’m looking at one,” he breathes, and you burst out laughing, pushing him back gently.
“That was very cheesy.” you giggle, and he shrugs shamelessly.
“It made you laugh, so I consider it a win.” he says with a soft, fond smile.
Your cheeks flare with warmth, not used to the gentleness and sincerity in his eyes, and divert your attention to the now open fridge, picking out a container of grapes that you hope are washed as you pop one into your mouth and chew. The burst of sweetness is very welcome on your tongue, and you lean back onto the fridge, closing your eyes in bliss.
“Better?” he chuckles, and you nod.
“Want one?” you say, offering him a grape, and he nods, leaning in to eat it from your fingers. Before he pulls back, he looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his sultry gaze too much for you at the moment and making you return your attention to the container of grapes with an urgency that doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan.
“Cute.” he murmurs softly, and you huff, trying (and failing) to hide your budding smile at the compliment.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you say, carefully extracting yourself from the small space he’s got you cornered in.
His eyes twinkle with amusement as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Was that an invitation?”
“It most certainly was not.”
“Aw, man. Next time?” he asks hopefully, and you snort.
“Don’t count on it.”
You do your best to hold your breath as you make your way through the hallway, stopping by the window for a moment before sticking your head out and breathing in the fresh air gratefully. After a moment of relief, you decide to open the window wider, climbing out and sitting on the windowsill, feet carefully resting on the fire escape attached to the side of the building.
It’s quieter over here, you note, pleased with your newfound situation as you scroll through your phone. Sure enough, when you open Instagram and tap on Jeno’s story, you see two boomerangs; one of him and his friends sitting in a circle around his bong, and one of him blowing smoke out of his mouth.
You tap the heart for both posts before footsteps pull your attention away from your phone, making you turn your head to see the newcomer.
Haechan stops about a foot away from the window, leaning against the wall. “I thought I’d find you out here. Thought you said it was too cold?”
“It is, actually, but this air doesn’t reek of weed.” you explain, and he nods in understanding.
“Mind if I join you?”
You wordlessly scoot over to make room for him, and he smiles, climbing out and sitting beside you. The side of your leg presses against his as he makes himself comfortable, but you don’t really want to move it.
So you don’t, and you just silently appreciate the warmth radiating from his body as he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you say sincerely, and he smiles at you, nodding.
“The city looks so pretty like this,” Haechan sighs, and you direct your gaze straight ahead of you, taking in all of the city lights in the nearby buildings and the bridges in the distance. “It’s almost as pretty as you,” he says, nudging you with a cheeky grin, and you exhale through your nose in amusement.
“It is pretty,” you agree. “Someone’s feeling flirtatious, I see.”
“Can you blame me? You show up tonight looking as good as you do and expect me not to want to be all over you?” he snorts, and you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised by how forward he’s being.
“‘All over me?’” you repeat, and he nods, looking you directly in the eyes. “Like… all over me?”
“You interpret it however you want to, baby.”
“You’re gonna have to stop calling me ‘baby,’ by the way; it’s starting to confuse me.” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow.
“How so?”
“I think I kinda like it,” you confess, and his gaze drops to your lips instantly, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
“Oh, really?” he murmurs suggestively, running one finger around one of the rips on the thigh of your jeans, and he chuckles softly as you shiver slightly, goosebumps raising on your arms. “Cold?”
“Something like that.” you reply evasively, and he snorts, his smile widening.
“Back to what you were saying… about liking when I call you ‘baby,’” he quickly returns to the previous topic, and you roll your eyes slightly in amusement. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“Friends don’t typically call each other ‘baby.’” you point out, and he shrugs.
“Maybe we can be special friends.”
“Oh, yeah? Special how?”
“Maybe we call each other cute names… touch a little bit… kiss a little bit…” he trails off, and you look over to see that he’s watching your lips again, a small grin on his lips.
“Mm, that could get messy though.” you murmur, and he gazes at you, longing openly written all over his handsome features.
“Life is messy.” he points out.
“This doesn't have to be.” you reply, gesturing between the two of you. Haechan links his fingers with yours and sets your linked hands on top of your touching thighs, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “That feels nice,” you sigh, leaning against him slightly.
“I bet I could make you feel even nicer.” he muses suggestively, and you snicker.
“Won’t lie and say I’m not a little curious.” you admit, and he sucks in a sharp breath of surprise.
“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs. “I don’t particularly feel like holding back right now.”
“Oh, is that what you usually do?” you reply, speaking as soft and low as he just did.
He nods. “You always tempt me, actually—I’m just not feeling like beating around the bush right now.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise and—you won’t lie—intrigue. “And what’s making you feel like that right now?”
“A number of things,” he replies. “How unbelievably good you look tonight, the way I can see the goosebumps on your skin when I touch you, and,” his voice gets even softer but carries an urgency you don’t believe you’ve heard from him before, “the way you’re looking at me.”
“And how am I looking at you?” you question, tilting your head to the side curiously.
“The same way I’m always looking at you.” he answers, and you don’t need him to elaborate.
“So if that’s all true,” you muse, regarding him carefully, “then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
“I like what we have,” he says in reply, and you smile. “Wouldn’t want to ruin it.”
“And what if I said I kind of want you to ruin it?” Your words are quieter than ever, tentative even, but by the way the fire in Haechan’s eyes intensifies, you know he heard you all the same.
“What did I just say about tempting me?”
“It wasn’t a temptation,” you say carefully. “It was an invitation.”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve never been one to ignore my urges before,” he admits. “If I want something, I get it.”
“Oh, yeah?” You can’t even try to hide the arousal building in you as you watch his lips with uninhibited longing.
“Yeah.” His gaze matches yours, unbridled desire swimming in his eyes as he slowly leans in, and you find yourself mirroring him, the two of you moving painfully slowly as you get closer and closer.
“And what is it that you want right now?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“I bet you can guess,” he murmurs as his lips brush the corner of your mouth.
“Give me a hint.” you reply, and he grins, turning your face towards him gently and bringing his lips to yours.
It starts slowly, his lips gently moving with yours, before he pulls back ever so slightly, your eyes opening to see him watching you carefully.
“Good?” he murmurs.
“Good,” you confirm, and he smiles before leaning back in to close the gap between your lips. This kiss is much less tentative, his lips parting to suck gently at your bottom lip, and when you whine softly, he pushes forward, reaching up to cup your cheek as he captures your lips with his over and over again, each kiss more dizzying than the last until his mouth is moving fervently against yours, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth with a quiet groan.
Your hand finds its way to his thigh, and as soon as it makes contact, it’s like a switch flips in Haechan, his lips leaving yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw before finally settling comfortably on your neck, mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at your pulse point.
“Haechan,” you whimper, and he hums against your neck, but you can tell he’s not really listening. “Haechan,” you sing-song softly in another attempt to get his attention, but he just slips his hand under your thigh farthest from him, scooping your legs up and moving them to drape over his lap. “Haechan,” you whine urgently, and his kisses finally falter, the male pausing but not moving away from you as he waits for you to speak. “Can we go somewhere more private and… less chilly?”
He pulls back, lips deliciously puffy from kissing, and nods with a dazed look in his eyes. “Jaemin’s room?”
You don’t even have it in you to be considerate of your friend, the lust clouding your mind and doing away with your judgment as you nod. He grins and ducks back into the apartment, helping you do the same before leading you to Jaemin’s room, never once letting go of your hand.
When you two get to Jaemin’s room, you’ve barely cleared the doorway before Haechan shuts the door and pushes you up against it, kissing you ardently and clutching your waist to drag you closer to him. He nips at your bottom lip briefly before kissing down your neck and sliding his hands up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and looping his finger in the string tying your top together.
“Why don’t we take this off, hm?” he murmurs, slowly pulling the string with a growing grin as the bow—the one Jiwoo so carefully tied for you earlier this evening—comes undone, leaving no resistance when Haechan pulls your top over your head.
He eagerly returns to kissing you, hands groping at your chest as he traces circles around your slowly hardening nipples. He pulls back from the kiss slightly and moves like he’s about to kiss down your neck, only to whine and bring you back in for another kiss, panting against your lips, “I wish I had more mouths.”
“You what?” you say, bursting into giggles so strong that you can barely manage to kiss him back, and he joins you in your laughter.
“Stop, I’m being serious!”
“I know—I think that’s why it’s so funny,” you say through your laughter, and he growls in lighthearted frustration before whirling you around and all but shoving you onto the bed. You squeal in surprise, giggling still as you bounce on the bed, and he rolls his eyes, climbing on top of you. “What kind of eldritch horror are you thinking of becoming? Like how many mouths and where?”
“Can we just—forget I said that?” Haechan whines, and you shake your head with a gleeful giggle.
“I don’t wanna,” you say with a pout, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he groans in exasperation. “I’m kind of a monsterfucker, so you saying that really got me going.”
“You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” you ask, looking up at him, and he slowly shakes his head—whether it’s in disagreement or in disbelief, you’re not sure, but when his lips start trailing down to your collarbone, you’re not entirely sure it matters anymore.
“I’d want mouths on the palms of my hands,” he grunts, cupping your breasts again through your bra, “so I can kiss you and suck your tits at the same time.” Before you can respond, his wet, swollen lips fall to your chest, tongue trailing all over your exposed skin before he’s tugging the cup of your bra down and taking your nipple into his mouth.
A whimper escapes you, spurring Haechan on further, and he wraps one arm around you, pressing between your shoulder blades to bring your chest closer to his mouth. His tongue is warm and wet as it flicks at your nipple, Haechan groaning as he swirls it around and around your stiffened bud.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he mumbles around his mouthful of your breast, and his other hand trails down your body to settle between your legs, Haechan delivering two gentle pats to your inner thighs in a wordless request for you to spread them. When you oblige, he smiles around your nipple before wetly licking and sucking his way from one breast to the other. His fingers quickly and deftly unbutton your jeans, barely yanking them down before his hand slips into your pants, stroking along the seat of your underwear, pressing down harder when you whine.
“Haechan, please,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently when you reach the ends.
“Mm, what is it, pretty? What do you want?” he teases with a quiet laugh, looking up at you as he pushes your underwear aside and trails two fingers up your slick folds, hissing in delight. “Is this what you want?” he asks, dipping his fingers into your entrance slightly and relishing the groan of frustration you let out.
“Yes,” you moan, tugging his hair a bit harder in retaliation for his teasing.
Finally giving into your demands, he pushes his middle and ring finger into your core, lapping at your nipple as you whimper loudly in relief. “Shh, shh, shh—I know, baby, I know.” he soothes you in a hushed murmur, slowly starting to pull his fingers out before pushing them in deeper.
“Feels good,” you exhale shakily, and he coos in understanding.
“It’ll feel even better in a second,” he promises, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. “Just gotta open you up first.” He releases your nipple, giving it one last lick before moving back up to hover above your face, gazing down at your pleasure-filled expression in wonder before he’s leaning down to kiss you, silencing your cries of pleasure as he starts to twist and scissor his fingers inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. All this for me? Hm?”
“No, it’s for Renjun,” you huff sarcastically, breaking the kiss momentarily to glower at him. “Of course it’s for you, dummy.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “There is a time and place for your sass, and it’s not when my fingers are literally inside of you. Besides,” he says, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gasp in pleasure, “why would you be mean when I’m making you feel so good, hm?”
“S-Sorry,” you stammer as his curled fingers massage at your inner walls in search of your g-spot, which he finds quickly, eliciting a sharp whimper from you as you clench around his fingers. “It’s all for you,” you confirm breathlessly, and he grins before kissing you again.
“Good girl. You’re gonna have to make it up to me, though.” he murmurs against your lips, and you pout, prompting him to coo fondly and kiss you again. “Even with that cute little pout.”
“I said sorry,” you complain, and he shrugs, fingers quickening their pace inside of you.
“I’m sensitive.” he replies simply, kissing down to your neck and sucking and biting at various spots until you’re sure there are marks blooming all over your skin. “It’s okay, though—I know how you can make it up to me.”
“H–How?” you ask warily, voice catching as the pleasure builds inside of you, his repeated stimulation of your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to climax as your insides tighten in anticipation.
“Cum for me?” he grunts, and you can’t tell if it’s a request or a stated demand, but you nod, breath hitching and your cries escalating in pitch as you start to do just that, your climax washing over you as your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your body curling in on itself as much as possible given that Haechan’s practically pinning you in place.
“That’s it, baby,” he purrs, coaxing more of your climax out as he keeps fucking you with his fingers, milking your orgasm for everything he can get, your entrance drooling clear evidence of your arousal all over his fingers and into the seat of your underwear. “Making such a pretty little mess for me,” he breathes, kissing you again as his fingers urge the last convulsions of your climax out of you.
You’ve barely recovered before your hands reach for his pants, fingers clumsily unbuckling his belt, undoing his button, and yanking down his zipper. He chuckles fondly and pushes them down to his knees, your eyes locking in on the imprint of his length in his boxers as he palms himself through his underwear.
“You like what you see?” he teases, and you furrow your brows.
“Your underwear’s in the way.” you grouch, and his eyes brighten with amusement, thumbs hooking into his boxers and pulling down until his length springs free. “Much better,” you hum, pleased as you rest your head down on Jaemin’s pillow.
“Look so pretty laying like that.” he grunts as he slowly fucks his fist. “Wish I could take a picture and keep it forever.”
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” you say, and he raises a brow expectantly. “Please fuck me.”
The brightness in his eyes remains, but now there’s a heavier, darker edge to his gaze as he leans over you, lips teasing yours apart.
“Did you just beg for me?” he coos tauntingly, and you sigh.
“I did not beg. I asked nicely.”
“Sure, baby. I’ll give you what you want,” he promises, lining the head of his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushing into you, making your breath catch in your throat. He exhales deeply and dips his head down to your neck, latching onto your skin and sucking as he starts to drag his length out and back in, building a teasingly slow rhythm.
“So full,” you gasp, and he chuckles, kissing up your neck to your lips.
“You feel so good, pretty girl. Tight little pussy keeps sucking my cock back in; you like this that much?” he coos, one hand groping your breast.
“Don’t tease me,” you huff, and he grins widely.
“How are you gonna stop me?” he counters smugly, choosing that moment to speed up the movements of his hips until the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, each thrust punctuated by a whimper from you. “You’re not going to do anything about it; you’re just gonna lay here and take this dick nice and deep in your little pussy until you cum all over it.”
“Fuck, Haechan—” you mumble, dazed by his thrusts and even more by his filthy language.
“You love it, don’t you?” he teases, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss where he plays with your tongue almost lazily.
“Uh-huh,” you can barely manage to get out, and he hums in satisfaction.
“Show me how much you love it.” he urges, rolling his hips against yours sensually. When you start to move your hips against his, rocking up into his every thrust into you, he rewards you by sucking on your bottom lip and flicking your nipple back and forth with his thumb. “Fuck, that feels so good, pretty girl, keep doing that.”
You fuck him back to the best of your ability, that familiar tightening sensation in your stomach alerting you to your impending climax. “Haechan, think I’m gonna cum—” you warn him, and he nods, pinching your nipple just enough to make you squeal.
“Cum, baby; wanna feel you clench around my cock.” he purrs, and your climax hits a moment later, a cry slipping from your lips as your back arches, your hand clutching his arm for something to ground yourself as your body curls in on itself involuntarily. “That’s it, pretty girl—doing such a good job—squeezing my cock so tight, baby, fuck—”
By the time your climax has passed, you’re still trembling slightly as aftershocks of pleasure travel through you with every thrust from Haechan, and you’re so wet you can hear his length moving in and out of you, hear your pussy sucking him back in as it hugs his length tightly, and heat rises to your face.
“My turn, baby; think you can take my load?” he grunts, and you nod instantly, clenching around his length every time he bottoms out in you. “That’s my good girl,” he coos fondly, his brows knitting together as he starts to release into you. “Milking me dry, baby, fuck—” he hisses, and you smile in satisfaction as he shudders, lowering himself to kiss you as he fucks the last bit of his cum into you.
Finally, when his length stops throbbing inside of you, he pulls out and lies down next to you, both of you breathing heavily.
“Hey,” he says, turning his head to face you.
“Hi,” you reply with a smile, and his lips curl into a matching smile.
“You okay?” he asks gently, and you nod.
“Better than okay.” you assure him, and he sighs, relieved. A thought comes to your mind and you nudge his leg with your knee. “Hey.”
“Hi?” he answers curiously, and you roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow.
“If you had multiple mouths—”
“Please let it go, it was silly—” he interjects with a half-chuckle, half-groan.
“I like silly!” you counter, and he looks over at you skeptically, his features relaxing when he reads the sincerity in your face. “If you had multiple mouths, would you have them anywhere besides your hands?”
He thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “I’d have one on each thigh… so while I’m kissing you, I can grope your tits with my hand-mouths and have you sit on my thigh so I can eat you out, too.”
You shudder slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I got a little excited.”
“You’re joking… damn, you’re kinkier than I thought. That’s hot,” he grunts appreciatively.
“I think we should get up before Jaemin comes in here and chops our heads off.” you say suddenly as the reminder that this is not somewhere you want to be caught fucking dawns on you.
“You’re so right,” he agrees, sitting up and helping you off of the bed. You both hurriedly redress, Haechan stumbling as he pulls his pants up and making you both giggle. “Ready?” he says finally, fully redressed.
You ruffle his hair, messing with it until it’s back in place, and hold the strings to your top out to Haechan. “Tie it for me?”
He smiles fondly and steps closer, tying a cute bow into your top and leaning back to inspect his handiwork. “You’re good, baby.”
“Thanks,” you say sincerely, opening the door and heading back to the party. You two give each other a knowing look before you enter the living room and go your separate ways, Haechan heading for Jeno and Renjun while you head for Jiwoo and Jihyo. “Boo!” you say from behind them, and Jiwoo whirls around, clutching her chest.
“Shit!” she exclaims. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry,” you reply without a hint of remorse.
“Where’d you go?” Jihyo asks curiously.
“I was on the fire escape,” you explain, deciding to tell a half-truth. “I didn’t want to smell Jeno’s weed.”
“Ah, fair.” she answers with a nod.
“Hey, your bow is different.” Jiwoo points out, pointing at the bow on your shirt that Haechan tied. “Did you take your top off or something?” she snorts, amused with her little joke, but Jihyo looks over at you carefully, shrewd gaze scanning your body for anything else out of place.
“No, I just had to re-tie it because one of the strings got caught on one of the screws on the fire escape and it looked all wonky,” you lie, and Jiwoo nods in understanding.
“Copy that. Well, I’m hungry; wanna go raid their fridge?” she offers, and you start to nod, but you freeze when you feel something drip out of your core.
“I am totally in, but I have to use the bathroom first.” you say, clasping your hands together in a pleading gesture. “Wait for me?”
Jihyo’s still staring at you like she’s silently interrogating you, and you won’t lie and say you’re not unnerved. “Earth to Jihyo?”
She blinks slowly before focusing her gaze on you once more, eyes now softer and less scrutinizing. “Sorry, I was just… thinking. Yeah, we’ll wait for you.”
“Cool,” you say, relieved, before making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You make quick work of peeing and sorting yourself out, washing your hands and drying them before heading back to the living room where Jihyo and Jiwoo and, to your surprise, Haechan stand. “I’m back!” you chirp before looking over at Haechan. “You weren’t here a minute ago.”
“Jeno and Renjun started bickering about something, so I left.” he replies with a shrug. “You don’t mind if I join you guys, right?” he shoots you a knowing look with a secretive smile, and it takes everything in you not to start giggling like a schoolgirl.
“I guess you can,” you say nonchalantly, and he beams at you.
“Great! Where are we going?” he asks curiously, and you point towards the kitchen.
“To find snacks!” Jiwoo says eagerly, and you all walk to the kitchen, you and Haechan starting to fall to the back of the line until he’s side by side with you.
“You already said their snack selection was garbage,” he remarks, confused, and you shush him.
“Yeah, but I’m not getting a snack; Jiwoo is. So we’ll let her figure that out for herself,” you explain, and he nods in understanding.
“I see,” he hums thoughtfully. “Well… did you tell them? About earlier—”
“No,” you answer, and he sighs in relief. “Don’t worry, it’s our little secret.”
“Copy that,” he chuckles, fingers brushing against yours before they intertwine and he squeezes your fingers gently. When you look down at your linked hands and back up at him, he smiles cheekily. “So we don’t get separated,” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes but pull him forward, finally entering the kitchen in time to see a cranky Jiwoo.
“Their snack selection is ass. What am I, a rabbit?” she laments, and you smile in amusement.
“They’re great at house parties, bad at refreshments.” Haechan says, and Jihyo looks over at you two before her gaze drops down to your linked hands, an eyebrow raising in suspicion.
You carefully and casually let go of Haechan’s hand by running your fingers through your hair, and Haechan fixes his mouth to complain before he looks in Jihyo’s direction and seems to understand, relaxing slightly.
Between Haechan’s need for attention, your inexplicably magnetic attraction to each other, and Jihyo’s deeply suspicious and perceptive gaze, you know you have quite a night ahead of you.
The following morning finds you back at home sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through your phone and checking your engagement before a text banner notification drops down from the top of your screen.
haechan [10:08am] good morning 😌 did you miss me? you [10:10am] sorry……who’s this? haechan [10:11am] you’ve GOT to be joking 😟 you [10:13am] i very much am 💖 good morning haechan ☀️ haechan [10:15am] don’t play with me like that i almost crashed out haechan [10:15am] can i come over? i have a question for you you [10:16am] haechan what are we doing rn haechan [10:17am] ….talking? you [10:17am] right… and would you consider talking a synonym for ‘having a conversation’ or no? haechan [10:18am] ……….yes……….. is this a trick question you [10:20am] so if we’re already having a conversation, by your definition….. why, pray tell, can’t you just ask me NOW 🤨 haechan [10:22am] *Message sent with Invisible Ink* maybe i just wanted a reason to see you ☹️ you [10:24am] oh… well that’s cute actually haechan liked your message “oh… well that’s cute actually” haechan [10:25am] awesome…… so can i come over? 😁 you [10:26am] ofc you can 💖 haechan [10:27am] great can you let me in 😁
You tilt your head, confused by his message, but a knock on your door makes you practically jump out of your seat. You make your way to the front door and look through the peephole, barking out an abrupt laugh when you see Haechan sporting a cheesy grin on the other side of the door.
“You are insane,” you laugh as you open the door for him, inviting him inside. He enters, still sporting the playful smile, and shuts the door behind himself.
“In, like, a cute, hot, sexy way, though, right?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes with a smile before shrugging and nodding, watching as relief floods his features.
“Your question?” you ask, getting straight to the point, and he visibly balks, the normally shameless Haechan becoming quiet and shifty. “Haechan?” you call his name with a tinge of worry in your voice.
“Did you have a good time last night?” he asks, and you raise your eyebrows.
“That’s your question?” you question, in disbelief.
“I’m building to it,” he explains. “Now: did you have a good time last night?” he repeats, and you blink at him impassively before sighing in slight defeat.
“I did,” you answer, not sure if he meant the party or… well, the sex… but you had a good time regardless of which he meant. “Did you?”
“I had an amazing time.” he says sincerely.
“Great,” you reply, just as sincerely. A small silence passes before your impatience gets ahold of you. “Haechan…”
“Yes?” he responds, nervousness creeping into his voice.
“Your question?”
“Right,” he mutters, clearing his throat as he prepares to speak. Meanwhile, you move to sit back down in your chair, swiveling around in the seat as you wait for his question. “Um—look—I really enjoyed last night. It was amazing, actually, and—I’m talking about the sex, by the way.” he stammers, his sudden clarification at the end making you giggle, regarding him fondly.
“I figured, yes.” you assure him, and he nods, somewhat relieved. “Go on,” you urge him gently, and he swallows visibly.
“I would love to, um… do that again… but I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship right now. I’m still getting used to juggling my job and my social life, and I really don’t want to fuck up our friendship—”
“And you want to be friends with benefits,” you finish for him, and he pauses, body tense as he rapidly tries to read your reaction.
“...Yes?”
“Okay,” you agree, and he just about crumples with relief, leaning against the kitchen island for support. “I’m down. But if we don’t want it to ruin our friendship or the friend group, maybe we shouldn’t tell them?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he sighs, significantly more relaxed than he was a moment ago. “Plus, it could be kinda fun, y’know? Us… sneaking around… together…” he says, gesturing between the two of you with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.
“I couldn’t agree more.” you say sweetly, and he beams at you, all traces of his earlier nerves gone. “Do you think we should have some ground rules? So we don’t complicate things?”
“Sure, yeah,” he agrees instantly, and you smile, patting the chair next to you invitingly as you pull up the Notes app on your phone.
“So we want sex with virtually no emotional connection, right?” you clarify, and he nods, his reaction a second too late to process as casual. Ignoring it politely, you continue on. “So, maybe ‘no cuddling’ should be a rule.”
“No cuddling?” he laments, and you nod resolutely.
“Cuddling encourages emotional intimacy.”
“Fine,” he sighs, frowning slightly. “Can I still hug you?”
“Hugging and cuddling are… not the same thing, so yes.” you answer with a laugh as you type the first rule, and he smiles, chuckling lightheartedly.
“Maybe… we shouldn’t spend the night after we have sex?” he suggests, and you nod, typing it into the note you’ve made.
“Is this, like, exclusive?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.
“I guess not…” he says, an air of reluctance to his words that makes you pause and look at him carefully.
“Haechan, speak now or forever hold your peace.” you warn him, and he nods firmly.
“We don’t have to be exclusive if you don’t want to be. It’s up to you.”
“How about we leave that part open-ended for now, but make the next rule ‘no jealousy?’” you offer as you type in the next rule.
“Okay, that sounds good.” he says, nodding slowly in agreement. “Next rule?”
“Um, no romantic gestures? Like, no buying each other special gifts you wouldn’t buy for another friend, no flowers, no making each other romantic playlists—stuff like that.” you say, and he looks off into the distance pensively.
“What about pet names?” he asks warily, and you half-sigh, half-laugh.
“Haechan, I think you would pop a blood vessel if you had to restrain yourself from calling me pet names.” you state, and, eyes wide, he nods vigorously in agreement, making you laugh.
“It’s true!” he insists, and your laughter grows.
“I know! That’s why I said it,” you giggle as you type in the next rule, and he starts to chuckle before joining in on your laughter. “So pet names are fine, but—”
“But?” he asks hesitantly.
“‘No PDA’ should definitely be a rule.” you suggest. “It’d definitely blow our cover.”
“Okay… agreed.” Haechan says slowly, his subsequent nod more confident than his words.
You type in the new rule and sit back, regarding the list carefully. Haechan peers over your shoulder at your phone screen, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Does this look good to you? Do you think we’re missing anything?”
“No, I think it’s perfect,” he says, sounding sure of himself, and that’s enough to comfort you.
“Well, great!” you say, taking a screenshot of the list and texting it to him. His phone pings on the kitchen table with your incoming text, and he looks at it briefly before tucking it into his pocket. You rise to your feet, Haechan straightening back up as you stand, and turn to face him, extending your hand. “Wanna shake on it?”
He takes your hand with a small smile, lips quirked up in amusement before he looks up at you and tugs gently, pulling you against his chest. “Honestly? I’d rather kiss on it.”
You blink twice, stunned slightly by the sudden intimacy, but you nod. “We can do that.”
He grins, tilting his head and nudging your nose with his gently. “Good,” he breathes before he kisses you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to move, one hand cupping your jaw and the side of your neck while his other arm wraps itself around you, resting on the small of your back as he pulls you in close. His lips mold with yours so smoothly that it’s like you’ve been doing this for a lifetime, but every nip and suck from him winds you up even more than you thought possible, making for a beautiful combination: all of the comfort, no stilted awkwardness, with all of the excitement.
When you two finally break apart, it’s for air, your hand gently resting on his chest, still clutching his shirt—you don’t even know when you started doing that—as you both attempt to catch your breath.
“Good talk,” you pant, and he grins.
“Great talk.” he agrees breathlessly. “I actually have to go home to work on a code for this new program we’re building, but I’ll see you? Hopefully before our trip to Fire Island with everyone else, but if not, then I’ll text you?”
“It’s kind of criminal that you have to do work on a Sunday when you have actual work days to work on stuff.” you say with a pout, releasing his shirt and gently smoothing out the small wrinkles you caused. “Yeah, I’ll see you for the Fire Island trip.”
“I know.” he agrees with a frown. “Alas—not all of us can make it in life by being cute and likable.” he teases, and you shoot him an empty glare, making him laugh. “But I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.” he says, thumb carefully brushing your cheek.
“Okay,” you hum, trying your best to avoid leaning into his touch and closing your eyes.
“Later,” he says, reluctantly releasing you and walking backwards to your front door until he bumps into the corner he has to go around, a sheepish chuckle escaping him as he waves once, turning and exiting your apartment after you wave back.
Now alone, you look at the list you two compiled, carefully reading over each word.
1. No cuddling. 2. No sleepovers after sex. 3. No jealousy. 4. No romantic gestures. 5. No PDA.
They seem like simple enough rules to follow; straightforward and to the point, carefully designed so you don’t blur the lines too much between platonic and romantic.
But, given the way he embraced you earlier and the way you so badly wanted him to stay longer, you can’t help but wonder if the lines were already blurred to begin with.
tada!!! i hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part two, coming out on wednesday, december 11th!
DON’T WANNA WAIT? parts two and three are currently posted on my patreon here :)
#haechan smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#donghyuck smut#donghyeok smut#lee donghyeok smut#lee haechan smut#lee donghyuck smut#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#donghyeok x reader
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Seeing kny men shirtless for the first time
Pairings: Rengoku x fem!reader; Gyomei x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader (bonus: all hashira men x fem!reader)
Word Count: 3,2k
Warnings: this might be a little shitty so be nice pls, this is actually the first time I ever wrote for Gyomei so please please please let me know what you think! not 100% proofread 🥹🤍
Rengoku Kyojuro
“Have you seen Rengoku-san? There’s something I want to ask him about our upcoming mission.”
Tengen tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, lips unable to keep that dirty grin off his face. Yeah, surely you’re asking for a mission and not because you’re having a crush on the flame hashira since joining the pillars.
“He went outside in the gardens to view the blooming roses”, he lies oh so innocently.
A bright smile creeps up your face, heart already skipping a beat in excitement. If you were only brave enough to finally ask Kyojuro out, how easier your life would be if you’d just keep your distance to him. But the prospect of seeing him alone is enough for your mind to go blank. Hopefully, the others don’t notice.
“Thank you so much, Tengen”, you blurt out with a hasty bow before yanking out of the room.
“Didn’t he say he wanted to change since he sweated so much during training?”, Shinobu thinks out loud.
“Yeah, that’s going to be a lot of fun”, Tengen replies with a smirk plastered onto his face.
Your mind races back and forth as you make your way to the gardens. What will you even ask him? Maybe what he has planned, if he already knows something? What if you mess up? This is actually the first time you and Kyojuro got assigned a mission together. You have to make a good impression or otherwise, he won’t take you with him again.
“Rengoku-san, I don’t mean to disturb you, but I have a few questions regarding the ne-“
Your breath gets stuck in your throat immediately, feet coming to a rapid stand.
There he is, the flame hashira.
Shirtless, his upper body soaking wet while he empties a bucket of water over his head.
“Oh, (y/n)! I didn’t expect you here!”, he announces with his eyes widened.
You can’t even blink, mind going dull. You always secretly imagined what Kyojuro might look like underneath that uniform, if his muscles look as buff as they feel underneath your touch while training.
And they do.
Oh god, they definitely do.
“I-I…Tengen told me that…You’re here to see…the roses”, you blurt out, still unable to look away.
“Indeed! But before that, I really needed to change my uniform since I sweated a lot during training.”
“Yeah, I can see that”, you mumble.
“(y/n), are you not feeling well? You look quite red from afar. Allow me to check on you.”
When he suddenly starts walking towards you with his chest muscles tensing with each and every step, you feel like fainting. Of course you never doubted that this man looks good underneath that uniform, but this?
“Your cheeks are really hot”, he comments while running his wet hand up and down your cheek.
“I…I…”
Your mind is a mess, not a single thought is making sense right now. Are you dreaming? Is that really Rengoku Kyojuro standing in front of you with his abs glittering in the heat of the sun, so close that you’d be able to touch him.
“Maybe you should go and see Shinobu-“
“I’m flustered!”, you finally cry out like an idiot.
Only to regret your words immediately.
His hand stops right in its tracks, the piercing presence of his orbs forcing you to look up at him.
“Why would you be flustered, (y/n)?”, he questions innocently.
May the ground swallow you whole in hope you’ll never return. God, why does this have to be so embarrassing? You’ll definitely have a word with Tengen when this is over.
“Because I…I have a crush on you, Kyojuro.”
The words you never dared to say out loud, that lingered through your mind each and every time you saw him. Like a rock, they fall off your chest while a wave of pure panic starts rushing over you.
You just confessed your feelings to him.
Him, Rengoku Kyojuro.
“I think I need to go now”, you blurt out, already starting to turn away when Kyojuro grabs your wrist gently.
“Please don’t go, (y/n). Actually, I feel the same way about you.”
He sweeps you around so rapidly that you are forced against something as hard as a wall. Did he accidentally throw you against a wall, the nearby tree?
The second you open your eyes again, you stare at his bare chest, only millimetres away from your face.
That wasn’t a wall.
“I had an eye on you since the first time I saw you. You are just…so amazing!”, he confesses with a passion that is even unusual for him.
“Kyojuro, I…”
Your bare face touched his naked chest.
“I…”
And don’t get started on his sight, his broad chest, the muscles that flex when he grabs your shoulders passionately.
“I…I can’t…”
“What’s wrong, (y/n)? A cat got your tongue?”, Tengen jeers from behind.
All your senses seem to come back to you in the split of a second when a wave of anger washes over you.
“You little…Why did you do that!?”, you cry out while storming towards the much taller man.
“Because your face looks very flashy when it’s this red.”
Gyomei Himejima
To say that you are exhausted would be the understatement of a century. Being out in the scorching sun all day really took its toll on your already bruised body.
Not to mention the training methods of none other than the stone hashira himself.
Gyomei is not a stranger to you. You’ve known each other for quite some time by now, joining the demon slayer corps almost simultaneously. And that force of a man never failed to impress you.
You wrench your sweat-soaked clothes in the river while staring at your own reflection. Why are you even here, though? You might not be a hashira yet, but you trained with Gyomei countless times before. Over and over, you shoved rocks around and almost drowning in that exact river. At this point, the basic training of the corps members isn’t even enough for you to break a sweat. You find yourself shoving that rock 10 cho by now while carrying tree trunks on your back.
You furrow your eyebrows. Now that you think of it, you didn’t even catch a glimpse at Gyomei himself since being here. Apparently, the hashira training does keep him busy.
That sting of agony that pierces through your heart can’t be stopped, though. Over the span of those last years, you got to know the stone hashira better. Despite his tall and threatening appearance, he is the softest man you’ve ever known. So kind that he brought tears to your eyes more than once, so considerate that it’s hard to believe that this man lives alone.
It was inescapable for you to fall from him head over heels. And now you find yourself longing for his presence even though you know all too well that he is busy training the corps members.
“I didn’t expect to greet you here at this late hour.”
You almost trip over head-first into the water, caught by a strong hand last-minute before you take another dive into the river.
“I’m beyond sorry for scaring you like this, (y/n)”, an all too familiar voice continues while pushing you back on your feet.
Normally, the first thing you see is his demon slayer uniform and cloak draped around him in a somehow elegant way.
But not today.
You swallow hard, widened eyes blankly staring at his naked chest. This man standing in front of you…Gyomei wears nothing but his uniform pants.
“I…uh…don’t w-worry”, you stutter like an idiot, his arms still holding you in place gently.
“Did I interrupt you? I didn’t know that you were taking a bath.”
His soft voice paired with that sight in front of you. You’ve never seen him shirtless, never witnessed the way his veins pop out of his arms and how well formed he is underneath that uniform. It would be so easy to allow your fingertips a taste and let yourself discover his muscles even better, to just stretch out your hand and-
“Does it bother you that I am shirtless? I came here to take a bath myself.”
“Bother?”, you press out.
“I…I’m not bothered at all!”
“I guess I’m just a little…flustered…”
“Flustered?”, he repeats in confusion.
“If I make you feel uncomfortable, I’ll cover myself of course. I just noticed you were here and we haven’t seen each other for a long time by now.”
“I missed you”, he adds, forcing your world upside down for a minute.
Since you’ve got to know him, there was never more than friendly words between Gyomei and you. Not more than a shoulder rub, not more than motivating words from time to time. You never allowed yourself to compliment him or talk about anything apart from missions.
Until now. Until Gyomei confessed out of nowhere that he missed you.
While being shirtless
“I…missed you too”, you finally give in.
You allow your eyes a little glimpse at him. Just a little taste of his broad shoulders and how his veins stand out. Just a little something of his rock-hard abs, his enormous upper body that is usually covered by his uniform. Just one look at-
“I thought about you all the time, to be exact”, you breathe out before you even realize what you’re talking about.
“I’m feeling the same way, (y/n). Let me assure you that my heart beats just as fast as yours at the moment.”
Gently, he cups your hand with his and presses your palm against his bare chest, straight against his racing heart that pulsates against your skin.
Oh god. You feel like fainting any given minute, your very own heart pounding so hard that you might get a heart attack.
“Now, allow me to put on my uniform again so that we can have a proper-“
“Wait!”, you blurt out.
“Let’s just stay like this for uh…a little longer…”
Sanemi Shinazugawa
It’s hard to keep your palms from sweating when you know exactly where you’re going. To him, the wind hashira. The man who swept you off your feet without even trying, the man you haven’t seen in such a long time by now.
While Sanemi always kept himself busy with missions, you were assigned to a mission far away from home. It took you over a month to finally find the demon who was responsible for this mess. And eventually, Sanemi just stopped writing you letters or replying to your messages. Even though you were so sure that he might feel the same way about you, he proved you wrong.
In the most painful way.
“I can’t go any further, that’s exactly where he is”, you complain while following your crow around.
You know this path uncomfortably well, the way it leads you next to a river, through a field of strawberries. Straight into the wind hashira estate.
“Direct orders from Kagaya-sama! You need to undergo the hashira training!”
“I just returned from an exhausting mission, did you tell him that?”, you bark back only to get attacked by your stinky crow.
“So cheeky! Watch how you talk to me!”, it cries out, literally dragging you along with it while its beak bursts the skin of your cheek.
Your heart almost stops beating, pounding rougher and rougher against your ribcage with every step you take towards the wind hashira estate.
What if the man you still love rejects you? What if he breaks your heart in front of everyone else, if he speaks out those words you imagined when you waited another day for his reply?
You want to escape, want to get as far away from here as possible. But your unforgiving crow drags you with it until you find yourself at the front doors of his estate.
“Get yourself together, dumbass! Go inside and talk to him! GO!”
With one last bite it finally leaves you alone, right at the opened front door.
There’s nothing you’d like more than vanishing from this earth, to get swallowed whole. Why on earth does it have to be him first? Why aren’t you allowed to train with Tengen, Giyu, basically everyone else? Your heart races so hard inside your ribcage that it takes your breath away, eyes staring into the dark estate.
Is he even home?
You allow yourself to take a few steps into the building, to look around. No cries, no voices? Maybe he isn’t even home. Are they training somewhere else, in the nearby woods, maybe?
“Fuck!”
His voice almost sends you over the edge, forces your eyes to dart around in sheer horror. That was Sanemi, without any doubt. But is he alone?
What if he’s not?
What if he’s with a girl?
You swallow hard, the ugliest thoughts taking over your head when you hear water splashing from a room nearby.
You can’t help it. As quiet as possible, you make your way towards the room the sounds originate from, ready to find literally everything. What if that’s the reason he didn’t write you back? What if he fell in love with another woman and simply forgot about you?
Your eyes peek through the ever so slightly opened door.
And your jaw drops to the floor in an instant.
There he stands, nothing but a towel covering his private parts while droplets of water run down his naked back. Sanemi just washed himself.
But oh…
You can feel your mouth watering just by looking at the scars that cover his back, how delicious the water than runs down his neck seems. You’re only a few steps away from that force of a man, only a few steps in order to touch him. You always wondered what his skin feels like, if his outside is as rough as his inside. And what does he smell like straight out of the shower? Does he still smell like himself? And what about his abs-
All air drains from your compressed lungs as you suddenly find yourself pinned against the wall straight in Sanemi’s bathroom.
“Why the hell are you spying on me like some little freak?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“I…wasn’t spying”, you press out, his distressed orbs meeting yours.
Fuck, you’re screwed.
“Oh yeah? Why were you standing outside my bathroom then? I didn’t even know you were back!”
“Because you never fucking asked”, you finally bark back.
He draws even closer, lingers over you like an unpromising shadow with his naked upper body still dripping. No, you have to concentrate on the fact that you’re mad as hell right now, there’s no room for inspecting his upper body.
But his abs definitely look as good as they feel.
“You were out on a mission, how the hell was I supposed to ask? I thought you’d just let me know when you’re back”, he bites back.
“Oh, could have tried answering my damn messages, maybe? Did you ever think about that!?”
“Me answering your messages? You never replied to me!”
You furrow your eyebrows.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What I’m talking about? I sent you countless messages and you never answered. I even asked Kagaya-sama if you died or something! I…I was so fucking worried…”
His heavy breath mixes with yours, caresses your oversensitive skin.
“But Sanemi…I did the same”, you finally mutter.
Sanemi’s chest rises and falls rapidly, a few water drops escaping the force of his skin. His oh so glowy skin. Of course you knew that this man would look good shirtless. But this? How are you supposed to stay focused when his skin turns pink ever so slightly, when his muscular chest moves like that?
“Can you stop staring at my abs and focus on me for one minute?”, he barks while flicking in front of your way too focused eyes.
You feel your cheeks heat up in an instant, glossy eyes staring at him like a caught deer. If there’s one thing that’s worse than checking Sanemi out, it’s definitely getting caught.
“Sorry, I have to go”, you mumble while pulling yourself away from him.
Only to find yourself wrapped in his naked arms even tighter.
“You’re not going anywhere. I just asked you something”, he warns you.
“Let go of me!”
“Did you…miss me?”
Your arms stop right in their tracks, widened eyes staring at his flustered face in sheer disbelief. There he stands, Sanemi Shinazugawa, straight out of the shower while asking you if you missed him?
“Yeah, always”, you reply out of instinct.
“Good. Because same.”
He doesn’t even give you the chance to second-guess your answer. In the split of a second, you get devoured by his muscular arms, your very own kimono soaking wet in an instant.
Are you dreaming?
“Wait, what?”, you breathe out.
“And you totally checked me out”, he adds proudly.
“I didn’t check you out-“
“Oh yeah?”
He lets go of you just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his delicious upper body again.
“Maybe a little bit…”
-Bonus-
You huff out in exhaustion. What the actual fuck were you thinking when you agreed on training with all hashira? Well, apparently not that you’d literally vomit all over yourself after getting hit without any mercy by all of them.
“That little fucker Shinazugawa”, you curse under your breath while stomping towards the wind hashira estate.
“I’ll kick your puny ass next time.”
Your feet drag you back to them with last strength. Rengoku, Tengen, Obanai, Shinazugawa, Tomioka…why on earth are all of them so damn strong? Super unfair.
“Have you seen how I beat the shit out of her?”, you hear Sanemi jeer from afar as well as the constant mumbling of the others.
“It wasn’t necessary to hit her this hard”, Giyu comments.
“Hell yes it was. Now that brat knows what she’s dealing with!”
All you see is red. Even though your body begs you to stop, you storm towards their voices.
“Listen up, you little shit-“
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, eyes darting around without a real aim.
There they stand. Shirtless. Every single one of them.
Oh.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault that you’re a loser-“
Just this once, you’re actually able to ignore Sanemi’s shitty words. That toned abs Rengoku has, Tengen’s veiny arms, Obanai’s athletic build, the scars that compliment Sanemi’s muscles so well-
Why is it suddenly so hot?
“Are you okay, (y/n)?”, Giyu questions while rubbing the back of his head with a towel.
How is it possible that he looks this good underneath that loose uniform? You always expected Giyu to be rather athletic that muscular given his fast movements. But that mountain of a biceps definitely doesn’t lie.
“I…”
Not a single logical thought is left in your blank mind, eyes roaming back and forth between them.
“I need to go.”
In the matter of seconds, you disappear inside the wind hashira estate without a trace.
“Is (y/n) alright? She looked rather pale”, Rengoku thinks out loud, still staring at where you last stood.
“She was definitely checking me out”, Tengen announces proudly.
“You? Bet she was looking at me”, Sanemi jeers at the tall man.
“How are they so hot?”, you mumble to yourself while inspecting them through the window.
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt
#kny#kny x reader#hashira training arc#kimetsu no yaiba#kny x y/n#kny x you#kny fanfic#kny fluff#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer rengoku#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku kyojuro#kny rengoku#rengoku x reader#kyojuro rengoku#kny kyojuro#kyojuro#gyomei himejima#kny gyomei#demon slayer gyomei#gyomei x reader#kimetsu gyomei#rengoku#sanemi#sanemi shinazugawa#kny sanemi
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By The Warmth Of The Oven
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.
Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?
a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡
bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆
“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you.
“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends.
“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before.
Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story.
“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response.
“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.
“In the kitchen?”
“With you.”
Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.
You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.
“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.
He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time.
When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth.
“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.
“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”
“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”
“Bucky!”
You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat.
Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you.
You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.
“Looks like I was right.”
“Huh?”
“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming.
“That's the liquor talking.”
“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”
You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.
“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.
“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong.
#glimpses of love in the snowfall#elixirs snowfall daydreams#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky imagine#bucky fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes oneshot
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Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.
⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to an MC Who Is Cheerful and Oblivious ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Machete, Mr. Hood, Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Minor Spoilers for Homicipher (Mr. Scarletella’s Part), Minor Canon-typical Mentions of Violence. Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,100 words. Request: “Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.” Author’s Note: This was such a fun request to think about since a human like this existing within the other world would pretty much be a living, walking target – like, you’d probably be dead so quickly if you were oblivious or naïve or too trusting (like me when I first played through the game and was smiling every time a hot monster man talked to me 😭). Since you didn’t specify any characters, I just picked a handful that I thought would have varying reactions to the type of reader you requested. I hope you enjoy!
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡
╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
👣: Mr. Crawling loves your cheerful and friendly personality, finding it a breath of fresh air within the other world. It draws him to you even more, like a moth to a bright flame. He likes how you sometimes just randomly giggle or laugh. He does it, too, so it’s nice to meet someone so similar to him! He definitely feels this sense of kinship with you when he notices all the similarities you two share. Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to keep you safe, wanting to protect you from everything or everyone attempting to harm you in the hopes you don’t lose that sparkle – that light within you.
👣: He’s already very protective of you, and your obliviousness to the other world and its residents makes that feeling even stronger. He is aware that your friendly and trusting nature will be taken advantage of in the world he calls his home, so he somehow manages to take a more proactive role when it comes to keeping you safe… if that was even possible (it’s ON SITE if he sees Mr. Stitch near you. Mr. Crawling knows how that particular resident acts, and he would prefer not to have him kidnap or try to eat you…).
👣: Whenever you laugh, he also laughs – you do the same thing with him, too, so you both kind of bounce off of each other and act like the other’s personal echo. Any other resident who sees the two of you kind of thinks you have a few screws loose, watching from afar while you both just randomly laugh together without a care in the world. Honestly, Mr. Crawling thinks it’s nice to be able to laugh with someone else like this.
👣: Overall, your personality manages to make him love you even more (if that was even possible). Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to make sure you never stop smiling, never once making you feel like you’re not supposed to laugh even if it may not be seen as appropriate in the situation. He doesn’t care that sometimes your obliviousness results in both of you finding yourselves between a rock and a hard place. He will be there by your side until the day you tell him to leave – his love for you is unconditional, and that’s just a fact no matter what kind of person you are.
🗣️: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped also finds himself immensely endeared to you and your personality. He loves how happy you are all the time, and he finds his mood improving whenever you’re around, too! It’s wonderful to have someone like you around, someone who is always so cheerful and upbeat, especially considering the place you have found yourself trapped in. He appreciates it – appreciates you, as a whole – but that doesn’t mean he has no reservations about your personality…
🗣️: His anxiety spikes whenever he thinks too much about what you were potentially getting up to whenever he wasn’t around, worried about you getting taken advantage of or giggling at the wrong question and ending up injured, or worse, dead. He really enjoys spending time with you, you’re like a ray of sunlight in such a dark place, and the thought of that being gone after having just experienced it is… quite an unpleasant thought (he doesn’t know what sunlight is, but he can vaguely remember a yellow warmth from a time long forgotten that you remind him of). If he had a body, he’d probably be ripping his beloved hair out just because of how oblivious you can be.
🗣️: Mr. Chopped is definitely the type to just start scolding you point-blank, telling you that you need to be more careful – his beautiful hair is going to turn grey at this point with how often he worries about you! Please don’t make him worry… It’s not good for his metaphorical heart. He even lectures you about how he typically tells the difference between people he can trust (like you, Mr. Silvair, the Hairdresser) versus people he knows he can’t trust (like the Hooded Child or Mr. Stitch) in the hopes it will have you thinking about your safety more.
🗣️: Sometimes he feels a sense of helplessness whenever he thinks about you and the fact he can’t do anything to keep you safe; it’s something he opens up about to Mr. Silvair whenever you’re not around. Mr. Chopped finds himself wishing that he had a body, even though you had assured him he was perfectly fine in your eyes without one. He just wants to help and protect you the way that others you knew were capable of doing. Whenever you sense he’s feeling down, though, your bright smile is enough to wash away his worries about your well-being, even if only for a moment.
🔪: Doesn’t understand why you’re so chipper all the time. Honestly, I feel like Mr. Machete would find it annoying, the fact you’re always smiling or giggling at one thing or another. He’ll purposefully chuck his sword at you in the hopes that it will scare you, make you wipe that stupid smile off your face, but it never does… It falters a bit, sure, but it never fully goes away, and that just pisses him off more.
🔪: He kind of makes it his mission to try and break you, to see how or what he can do to finally make you get angry or upset. After all, you never really fight back when he tries to start things with you, and that’s boring. He wants you to get frustrated at him, wants to see you throw a punch or try to hit him after another attempt at making your smile disappear, yet you never do. You remain smiling, and you’re oh-so blinding whenever you do, and he hates it. He hates you (or does he? He isn’t even sure himself… emotions are too complicated).
🔪: Overall, Mr. Machete has mixed feelings toward you. He can respect the strength it takes to keep a smile on your face, to remain positive and happy in a place filled to the brim with violence and death… That doesn’t mean he likes it, though, hearing your laughter whenever he does something you find endearing or if you see something you find amusing. It’s a sound that's headache-inducing, yet it also makes him want to pick you up and squeeze you (I’m a firm believer that he would have cuteness aggression). He has a love-hate relationship with you.
🔪: Mr. Machete also finds himself fed up with your obliviousness and naïvety, especially regarding other residents. He’s getting sick and tired of you finding yourself in trouble and, when it finally sets in you’re in danger, you call to him for help. Why the hell are you calling for him? You got yourself into this mess, and you’ll figure out a way to get out of it… Well, that’s what he says, but he usually takes care of whatever resident you found yourself in a conflict with, or he tosses you effortlessly over one shoulder and absconds if he doesn’t think it’s a fight he can win (don’t ask him why he even bothers saving you – he doesn’t know the answer, either).
🪓: Your cheerful and peppy attitude, the way you’re always smiling brightly and warmly at everyone you meet, makes Mr. Hood feel both endeared to you and worried about you. You do realize you just agreed to give that resident your heart, right? If he wasn’t here, you most certainly would have died, and that’s not exactly a thought he wants to entertain. He felt protective over you since the first moment you met, and that feeling had not died down once (even if looking after you had made him feel like he’d aged a century).
🪓: Always places himself between you and other residents when you attempt to communicate with them, using himself as a shield just in case you accidentally agree to something absurd or laugh at the wrong thing. Mr. Hood really shifts into teaching mode after cases like these, making sure you know exactly what certain words mean and when not to laugh, smile, or blindly agree to things. Honestly, if you were oblivious and overly trusting, he would feel it was his duty to stay by your side at all times and would be worried about what would happen if he left you alone.
🪓: However, despite the persisting feeling of worry your personality and some of your traits bring him when watching you interacting with most of the other residents, he can’t help but enjoy your presence. It’s new, and he surprisingly likes hearing the sound of your laughter. He finds your personality and behaviors to be cute, even though they bring you trouble more often than not. Most of the time, sometimes unconsciously, Mr. Hood finds himself resting his hand on the top of your head, patting it softly whenever you look up and smile at him so brightly.
🪓: Mr. Hood, despite finding that your obliviousness and your inability to take most things seriously typically ends up with you winding up in troublesome situations that could have been easily avoided, he still wouldn’t change a single thing about you (he has no problem staining his hands with more blood to keep you safe – killing residents while protecting you at the same time is something he’s good at, after all). Your smile is just too bright, your laugh almost infectious, and all he wants to do is make sure it never fades. He feels a strange ache in his chest whenever you take his hands into yours and tug him along, laughing all the way. He doesn’t understand it, but he also doesn’t have the desire to understand it, either.
🩸: Your personality intrigues him, and he finds himself desiring to know what you’re thinking about. What makes you so happy? How can you continue to travel through the other world, facing one traumatic event after another, with a smile constantly plastered on your face? A person like you is new to Mr. Scarletella, and he wants to be around you more. He wants to figure out how he can be the person making you smile and laugh in such a way – he wants to be able to bathe in the warmth and brightness your aura radiates.
🩸: Mr. Scarletella doesn’t make his presence known most of the time throughout your journey, but he watches you from afar, keeping an eye on you. However, if he does need to step in to keep you from harm, he will. Your reaction to him is unlike anyone else he's met, though. Most people who saw the man with the red umbrella would scream and run the other way, terrified of the story that was intertwined with his existence, but you didn’t. Honestly, it makes him want you more – you’re new, you’re different – and he likes it… likes you. There’s something about the sound of your laughter and your happy-go-lucky nature that makes him feel alive, in a way.
🩸: However, because of your obliviousness and naïvety, when he asks for your name and you just give it to him without a second thought… well, it makes his goal a lot easier. If I’m being 100% honest, being oblivious or overly trusting around Mr. Scarletella is not a good mix. Because he finds you interesting and different from other humans he’s seen before, he’s pleased that you’re his now – heart, body, and soul. You forget everything about yourself after, though, and he doesn’t find you as appealing as he once did (he low-key kind of regrets asking for your name).
🩸: For feel-good purposes, though, we’ll just ignore the last point and continue with the fluff… So, overall, Mr. Scarletella would find you fascinating and would find himself wanting to be near you in any capacity, whether it be as your master or your servant, he wouldn’t care so long as he got to be with you. He honestly wonders how you’ve managed to live for as long as you have considering your general attitude towards most things, but he’s glad that you did. Being with you makes his lungs feel like they’re full of fresh air, and he gets a pleasant tingling sensation in his body whenever he hears your laughter echo through the dilapidated hallways of the other world.
#🌸 . plum writes#homicipher#文字化化#homicipher x reader#homicipher x you#mr crawling#mr chopped#mr machete#mr hood#mr scarletella#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling x you#mr chopped x reader#mr machete x reader#mr machete x you#mr hood x reader#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella x you#homicipher imagines#homicipher headcanons#imagines#headcanons#fluff
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Girl, I Do This Often
Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.
Word count. 5.2k
A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days
On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.
A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”
By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute.
He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”
Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-
That was until the fourth day.
With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.
“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”
And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.
So close. So big.
Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.
But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs.
“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”
And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could.
“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”
“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know.
And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you.
“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”
If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.” Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”
And oh has it really been that long?
Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously.
“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”
You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”
“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”
Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some.
Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-
“Right here.”
It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?”
“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week
A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.
One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did.
By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh!
One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing.
Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”
That was a few hours ago.
Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.
Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind.
“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”
At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”
Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.
And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard.
Smack!
“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”
Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”
And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully.
“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”
And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.
“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”
Smack!
“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”
You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.
You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami.
Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside.
“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen.
The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him.
And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds.
“See? Enough space, no?”
You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban.
How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.
Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote.
“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”
You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”
Intensity setting 2.
But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”
“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”
Intensity setting 3.
But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too.
Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself.
“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”
You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”
Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth.
Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again.
Intensity setting 4.
“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly.
“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?”
Intensity setting 5.
And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.
“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties.
So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.
“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”
“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours
If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint.
But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully.
So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-
Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.
Fuck it.
“Sh-shit, Choso I-”
“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth, tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”
And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.
Over and over and-
“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”
“So?”
And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.
“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”
Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.
“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”
The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot.
Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”
“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”
He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.”
And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way.
Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-
No.
You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-
And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind.
“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”
And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully.
It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his.
It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place.
Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”
“Cho-”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days
The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small.
Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.
And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never.
“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”
And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole.
You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”
“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”
“Louder.”
“Please.”
There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”
Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.
“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”
And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump!
Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”
“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”
“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”
It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice.
So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose.
“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”
And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-
Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?”
And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-
“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin.
Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours
To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him
It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.
Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.
Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-
And that was when he felt it.
That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you.
It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-
“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”
He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”
Oh?
And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom.
“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”
“The meeting isn’t here now, right?”
Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.
And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.
“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.
“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”
Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste.
Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”
And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls.
Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”
“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”
God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving.
Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself.
You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.
“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”
Going faster.
Deeper.
You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”
But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.
Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”.
So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-
“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”
A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).
Plagiarism not authorized.
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