#I know he doesn’t have an actual spot right now
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 day ago
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141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?
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This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.
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Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood
Word Count: 900
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
This time, it sticks.
Somehow.
Miraculously.
After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.
You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.
John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.
“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.
“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”
Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.
“It might not be like last time.”
John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
“It’s okay, John.”
“Are you sure?”
You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”
“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.
No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.
Gone. All of it. Gone.
Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.
“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.
“Might?” asks Johnny.
“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”
Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.
“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.
“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.
Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”
Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”
He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”
“Johnny.”
He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They’ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.
It’s all coming back in pieces.
You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.
You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.
But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.
There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.
You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.
“I’m not risking you. Never again.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.
You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.
Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.
Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.
And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.
How many years of trying now?
But you’re still young.
Don’t stress about it.
It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.
Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.
He presents his hand, palm upward.
You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.
In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.
Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.
He knows. You don’t have to say anything.
Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”
No one is watching.
“I love you.”
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arcanefox207 · 10 hours ago
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The Warden.
GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3
Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.
Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.
M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S
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You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  
As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  
You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.
You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.
“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”
“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 
He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    
“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 
As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.
“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 
You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  
“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.
He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 
“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 
You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?
“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 
“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.
“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.
You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  
“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.
But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 
“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  
You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   
You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.
“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”
You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.
“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 
“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 
“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 
Why is this turning you on so much?
“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”
Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.
“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 
You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 
You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 
“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  
“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   
He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 
He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 
He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 
He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 
“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”
Fuck...
He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.
The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  
As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  
He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   
He can’t be serious… 
Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 
He is serious.
His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.
“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”
He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   
The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     
“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 
You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 
This was only ending one way. His way. 
“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 
You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.
He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 
God he was big.
“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 
You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.
“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.
He was so thick. 
You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  
“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 
You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   
“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  
“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.
With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.
He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  
He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 
You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.
This sick fuck was edging himself. 
He wanted more. Needed more. 
“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.
He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 
“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 
He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.
He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 
You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.
“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 
He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 
“What's this?” 
Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.
He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.
Fuck.   
“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.
“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”
It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 
“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 
“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 
“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 
Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  
He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 
“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 
“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.
You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 
Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 
“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 
You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  
“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 
“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.
You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.
“Get on with it.” You concede. 
He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.
With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    
His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 
There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.
It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  
He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  
He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   
Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.
“Please..” you beg him between moans. 
“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 
“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.
He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 
Your climax tears through you. 
“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”
He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.
He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 
“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 
He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 
“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.
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Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)
@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks
@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel
@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy
@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog
@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou
@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal
@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort
@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi
@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring
@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions
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t0jisd0ll · 1 day ago
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Yandere guitarist (male) head-cannons
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cw: yandere traits, literally nothing else lol, this guy is a cutie pie <33
disclaimer: I want to emphasize that I do not endorse or support this type of behaviour. This content is purely for entertainment purposes.
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Yan!Guitarist, the golden-hearted lead guitarist of a local indie band, who’s always wearing the biggest, goofiest grin as he pours his soul into every performance.
Yan!Guitarist, who notices you for the first time mid-performance, nearly missing a chord when he catches you smiling and nodding along to the music.
Yan!Guitarist, who practically bounces off the stage after the set, rushing to find you with a slightly breathless, “Hey! Did you like it? Did you have a favorite part? Oh, wait—you don’t have to say the guitar solo, but… was it the guitar solo?”
Yan!Guitarist, who immediately lights up when you compliment his playing, his face going red as he scratches the back of his neck and stammers, “Aw, you’re just saying that… but, uh, thanks. Really.”
Yan!Guitarist, who finds himself thinking about you nonstop, his bandmates teasing him for how distracted he seems during rehearsals. (“Dude, you’re writing love songs now? Who’s the lucky person?”)
Yan!Guitarist, who starts inviting you to every gig, always making sure you get the best seat in the house, his face lighting up whenever he spots you in the crowd.
Yan!Guitarist, who doesn’t even try to hide how much he’s into you, constantly sending you cheesy texts like, “This riff reminded me of you!” or “Practicing is way harder when I can’t stop thinking about your smile.”
Yan!Guitarist, who gets adorably pouty when you’re too busy to hang out, sending you exaggerated sad selfies and messages like, “Guess I’ll just practice alone… again… 😢”
Yan!Guitarist, who can’t stand the thought of you spending time with anyone who might take you away from him. He’s not aggressive—just clingy, always finding ways to keep you close.
Yan!Guitarist, who drags you to band practice and lets you sit on the couch while he plays, throwing you shy but excited looks every time he nails a tricky solo. “Did you hear that? That was for you!”
Yan!Guitarist, who insists on walking you home after every show or late-night hangout, his arm slung protectively around your shoulders as he chatters about his dream of you being his permanent plus-one.
Yan!Guitarist, who becomes your personal cheerleader, hyping you up at every opportunity and making sure you know just how special you are to him.
Yan!Guitarist, who might seem soft, but when he sees someone flirting with you, his energy shifts. He’s quick to bound over, throw an arm around you, and cheerfully introduce himself as “their boyfriend!”
Yan!Guitarist, who has a habit of slipping his hoodie or jacket over your shoulders, murmuring, “You look better in this than I do. Actually, you look better in everything, so… just keep it?”
Yan!Guitarist, who doesn’t realize how possessive he’s become until he catches himself thinking things like, “They’re mine. They’re mine, right? They wouldn’t leave me… would they?”
Yan!Guitarist, who gazes at you with so much adoration it almost hurts, softly whispering, “You know I’d do anything for you, right? Just… promise me you’ll always stay by my side.”
Yan!Guitarist, who falls so hard and fast that he’s practically your shadow, trailing after you with boundless energy and endless affection, determined to keep you as the center of his world.
Yan!Guitarist, who might be golden retriever soft but will still bare his teeth at anyone who tries to come between him and his favorite person.
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© t0jisd0ll on tumblr. Please do not steal my work as I spend time, and I take a genuine effort to do it.
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kararisa · 3 days ago
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darling, starling
— 27. through it all — ✦ (wc: 0.8k)
notes: this took longer than expected ^^ hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
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To Yae Miko's credit, she cut straight to the chase. 
Not that Scaramouche would give her much credit in general, given that she had always treated him with such indifference over the years before he finally moved out. But he'd take his small blessings whenever he could.
It was a cut-and-dry deal: Yae Miko would interview Scaramouche regarding the recent scandal between his partner and one of the band members of Windborne. He would get the chance to clear the air with the help of one of the most influential news outlets in all of Inazuma, while Yae Miko would get an exclusive story people could only dream about.
It should have been over the moment they ended the interview. But here they are, making casual conversation. At least as casual as it gets between a son and his estranged mother-in-law.
Scaramouche has seen these tactics before. Whenever Yae Miko wanted information, she’d make casual conversation with the interviewee to get them to open up. And that’s when she strikes.
Ironically enough, it was also Yae Miko who taught him how to avoid this. She was the one who taught him when to give information and when to hold back; how to satiate people’s curiosity enough so they leave you alone. Basic media training — training he and Kaori knew by heart.
Yae Miko tilts her chin downwards, the way she does whenever she gets curious. “You’ve been back in Inazuma for a little over a year now. Is it nice living with them? I’m assuming so since no one’s spotted you packing your bags just yet.”
“I still live with them. But that’s none of your business.”
“Oh come now, you saw me turn off the recorder. Everything we’re saying right now is off the record.”
Against his better judgment, he yields, “It’s... nice. On the days when they actually wake up early, they help me cook. It’s become a routine of sorts.”
He knew that was exactly what she was looking for when he saw the hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
It’s a slippery slope, trusting a journalist. Some will risk their lives for the truth while others will stab you in the back while shaking your hand. But if it’s Yae Miko, he has no doubt she’ll only publish the truth, if only a little embellished. She has to sell stories, after all.
“You’re never usually this civil with me,” Scaramouche doesn’t attempt to mask his suspicion. “What do you hope to gain with a conversation that’s off the record?”
Yae Miko offered a cryptic smile, her eyes revealing a flicker of sincerity. “Am I not allowed to be curious? People are actively looking for you just for the chance at an interview and you reached out to me in the hopes of clearing the air about your relationship.”
He’d be loathe to admit that she was one of the few people he trusted to handle the story properly. But he still had to ask, “And now you’re just this so-called off-the-record conversation as some sort of blackmail?”
She sighs, “I’m getting an exclusive interview with the author who’s dating an Inazuman pop star. Would you blame me for asking a few questions? Besides, you’ll see none of this conversation mentioned in any articles.”
“How do I know you’re not just bullshitting me...”
“I can understand your apprehension, but words hold power, Scaramouche. Everyone in the industry knows this. And so do you.”
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Scaramouche has never really seen eye-to-eye with Yae Miko on a multitude of things, but one of the few things they can agree on is that people shouldn’t just blindly believe what people say just because they have a large following. The Narukami Press has always strived to publish articles that are reflective of the truth. 
But bias is inevitable, whether you work in journalism or public relations.
“A large majority of people are always going to want to chase the latest drama without caring if it’s true or not,” she starts. “You’ll find no such motivation in me to keep fanning the flames. I want them to die down as much as you do.”
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“People like us have a responsibility to be careful with what we say and how we say it,” she continues. “The drama with Zenith was blown out of proportion, that much is for sure. People were hungry to see their downfall given that they were on top for so long but they were just as eager to drag you down with them.”
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“Setting the record straight by yourself will be nearly impossible,” she states matter-of-factly. “But your friends have been preparing their statements to defend your partner, yes?”
He isn’t even surprised that she knows about this, especially a PR move this big. Working with his friends will be the best way to get the rumors to die down to a manageable level.
“Your word and Xiao’s will be what people hang onto the most. Make it count.”
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“And fight for them, Scaramouche. They need you now more than ever. If you decide to ignore all my advice, then that’s fine by me. But never stop fighting for them.”
“Like hell I’d ever stop. No matter what happens, I’ll be with my partner through it all.”
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✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧
summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?
author's notes:
i lied, this was my favorite chapter to write by far
happy new year everyone!! updates will probably slow down from here but i hope you enjoyed the chapter ^^
taglist — currently CLOSED:
@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @nymphxie @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @cinnaniyoom @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @feiherp @venturinea @nnasv @retiredmommylover @onmywaytoteyvat @tiredslepz @saccharine-sucks
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kikyoupdates · 3 days ago
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For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒
various!jjk x f!reader
reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn
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You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes.All for the sake of a better tomorrow.
previous | story masterlist | next
“I didn’t think he was actually serious about watching us train.”   
Toji glances next to him, brows furrowed. You’re holding onto his hand as you walk side-by-side, and every so often, you beam at him, giving him a front row view to your adorable little face. On the opposite side of you, however, also holding your hand, is Satoru. You’re in the middle of both of them, as happy as can be. It’d be nice if you could say the same for Satoru, but you’ve come to learn that he can be awfully grumpy whenever Toji is involved. He’s not used to having to share your affection.   
Satoru squeezes your hand and scowls. “I already told you before that I’m not letting you train [Name] unless I can see it happen with my own eyes. You’re not allowed to hurt her. That was the condition.”   
“Having to get permission from a child…” Toji shakes his head disappointedly. “I wonder how I’ve fallen so low.”   
“I heard that, asshole!”   
“Satoru, please be nice to Toji,” you say—much to Satoru’s immense frustration. You glance up at Toji yet again, and the moment you smile at him, he instinctively does the same. “He agreed to train me. For free . Isn’t that amazing? Especially since something tells me he really likes money.”   
“You’re right,” Toji chuckles. “I love money.”   
“Everyone loves money,” Satoru mutters. “You’re not special.”  
“[Name], I get the feeling he doesn’t like me.”   
“That’s because I don’t .”   
You never thought you’d see the day where Satoru and Toji would bicker childishly back and forth. After all, the only other meeting they were supposed to have was many years from now, in a literal fight to the death. You know it’s too soon to get your hopes up, but already, the story has changed. And you intend to keep it that way.  
Eventually, you arrive at your designated training spot for the day. It’s a clearing in the middle of the woods. You’ve got plenty of space here, and if Toji really wanted to, he could easily knock a few trees down and make even more room.   
“I’m a little nervous,” you admit. “But also excited, because I really want to get stronger. I know it’s important to manage my expectations, though. I’ll never be anywhere near as strong as you, Toji. How did you get to be so strong, without any cursed energy?”   
You already know the answer to that question, of course, but you figure it’s about time he explains it himself so that you don’t have to keep pretending to be unaware.   
“Ah, right. I never told you. It’s a Heavenly Restriction,” Toji says. “That’s the trade-off. I lost all of my cursed energy in exchange for my body becoming stronger, and all of my senses being sharpened. Because of this, I can still see and interact with curses, despite not having any actual cursed energy. I need to use cursed tools in order to exorcize them, since curses can’t be killed without cursed energy, but it’s never been a problem.”   
Of course it hasn’t been. Look at you. You’re basically the Arnold Schwarzenegger of this universe.   
“Wow,” you marvel. “No wonder you’re so cool! I could tell right away that you were super strong. Why would your clan members be so rude to you? You don’t even need cursed energy when you’re already this powerful. I’ve never met any of them, but they sound stupid.”   
Toji cracks another smile. “ Very stupid. Like I said before, they’re a bunch of fools who can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”   
“He’s talking about asses again,” Satoru grimaces. “[Name], does it really have to be this guy who trains you? I’m seriously worried he’s a pervert. I can already tell he’s going to be a bad influence.”   
“Toji is the best mentor I’ll ever have,” you state firmly, and you make sure to wrap your little arms around him, adamant.   
Satoru lets out a heavy sigh. It’s okay. He’ll come around to Toji eventually. It’ll just take a while for him to get used to things. Also, Toji won’t be a bad influence for you, but rather, you plan on being a good influence for him. Maybe, depending on how things go, he won’t abandon Megumi this time around. Maybe he’ll actually try to be a good dad.  
You’ll be overjoyed if you can make that happen.   
Toji pats your head a few times. A bit roughly, but the sentiment is there. You may not realize it, but you’re already starting to grow on him quite a bit. He’s never met a kid like you before. Or anyone, really. Someone he has so much in common with, but in spite of the unfortunate circumstances you’ve been born into, you manage not to give in to your bitterness and hate, unlike him.   
And so, Toji will train you. He’ll teach you how to fight, how to use cursed tools properly, and how to hone your body in order to surpass your limits. But along the way, he may very well end up learning a thing or two from you as well.  
He will be your teacher, and you will be his.  
“Actually, I have something sort of similar to a Heavenly Restriction,” you say.  
Toji blinks, visibly surprised. “Oh. Really?”   
“Yeah. Well, technically, it’s a restriction I imposed upon myself. A Binding Vow. I decided to make one a while back to try and become stronger.”   
“What kind of vow is it?” Toji asks, and already, you can hear Satoru groaning as he buries his face in his hands. Even just the mention of your vow seems to bring him immense agony. Poor guy.   
“Like you, I can’t use cursed energy. Not because I don’t have any, but because the second I use it to hurt someone, I’ll die.”   
You beam, brighter than the sun itself, and of course, Toji can’t believe what he’s hearing.   
“Every time!” Satoru fumes. “Every time, you talk about the conditions of your vow with a smile on your face! What’s wrong with you? It’s not something to be taken lightly!”   
“I’m not taking it lightly. I just think it’s cool that Toji and I have so much in common. We were fated to meet!”   
“You barely have anything in common! He’s allowed to fight without the risk of constantly dying, unlike you! Stupid! Moron! Dumbass!”   
You glance over at Toji with a frown. “Do you see how he talks to me? I’m starting to think this is an abusive friendship.”  
“A Binding Vow where your life is on the line?” Toji blinks repeatedly. “Why would you do something like that? What… did you gain from it?”   
“Well, I’m really weak and I don’t have much cursed energy to begin with, and I still haven’t shown signs of manifesting a cursed technique of my own. So, in exchange for risking my life with this vow, I gained the ability to convert cursed energy into positive energy. So that I can heal people. Isn’t that awesome? I’m so smart.” You pause for a moment, then grin. “Do you have a knife on you? If you want, I can give you a demonstration—”   
“No knives!” Satoru cries out. He’s already traumatized enough from the last time it happened, and he certainly doesn’t need to see it again.   
Seriously. Poor guy.   
Toji didn’t think you could possibly surprise him any more, but time and time again, you outdo yourself. Like Satoru, he never knows what to expect. And Toji has always prided himself on his cool-headedness and ability to make rational decisions. He hates the world of jujutsu sorcerers, true enough, but even so, he’s kept his anger at bay all this time. If he really wanted to, he probably could have slaughtered the entire Zen’in Clan by now.   
“You’ve drastically increased the odds of you dying, in order to help other people?” Toji can’t help but marvel. “You really are selfless. What would possess you to put someone else’s needs above your own, when people have only ever treated you cruelly?”   
“I don’t really think of it that way,” you frown. “It’s not like people have to be nice to me in order for me to do the right thing. People can be strong in lots of different ways, but jujutsu sorcerers kill curses in order to save lives, right? So, that’s what I decided I wanted to do. It seemed like the most important thing. Using my strength to make the world a better place.”   
On this point, you and Toji differ. He’s nowhere near as kind or self-sacrificial as you are. Admittedly, he’s never even bothered to think about saving anyone’s life. All he ever wanted was to be acknowledged for being strong. But the Zen’in Clan immediately shunned him, because he was born without cursed energy.   
Still, it’s impressive. The fact that you don’t let yourself be discouraged, no matter how others treat you. No matter how often they dismiss you and treat you like dirt. If you’re able to stomach all of the abuse thrown your way and still have such selfless goals, then at the very least, mentally… you’re already stronger than he is.   
“You really are the strangest little girl I’ve ever met,” Toji chuckles fondly.  
“Thanks,” you grin, and once again, you wrap your arms around him and give him the biggest hug you can manage.   
Satoru rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to be a compliment, but whatever.”  
Toji lets you hug him for a while. He’s already gotten used to how affectionate you are, and he’s surprised that he doesn’t seem to mind it. But as easy as it would be just to stand around and chat, you’re here for a reason.  
You’re here to get stronger.  
“Now,” Toji says, lips pulled into a smirk, “shall we begin?” 
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It was bound to happen eventually. Toji has been training you for a little while now, and it was only a matter of time until the Zen’in Clan found out. �� 
Needless to say, they’re not happy about it.   
They already don’t think highly of Toji to begin with. In their eyes, he’s a failure. Someone unfit to be a sorcerer. But now they know that he’s training you, another failure. At least, on paper. These elitist dickheads seriously only care about one thing, and it’s power. But only the kind of power that they deem acceptable. Which is ridiculous, because Toji could easily break all of their skulls if he really wanted to. They’re seriously playing with fire.   
Long story short, you’ve been summoned. By the Zen’in Clan. The Gojo Clan of course heard about this and essentially told them to fuck off and mind their own business, but then the Zen’in Clan was all like, “You’re telling us to fuck off? No, no—you don’t get to do that. We’re the ones who tell you to fuck off. Who do you think you are to boss us around? You’re all a bunch of dipshits. Don’t make us go Super Saiyan on your asses.”   
…okay, fine, that’s not exactly what they said. You’re paraphrasing. But the situation kept escalating, and it was getting really tense, so you decided the best thing to do would be to just get the meeting over and done with.   
Which brings you to the present.   
Toji scowls irritably. “You didn’t have to come. All this does is make these rotten assholes feel like they can order everyone around and get away with it.”  
The Zen’in Clan estate stands before you. It’s even bigger than the Gojo Clan estate. Which makes sense, because Satoru is essentially a one-man army. The Gojo Clan still has many skilled sorcerers among their ranks, but as a whole, the Zen’in Clan is most likely stronger.   
Not that it really matters, because Satoru could easily take on all of them at once, and win .   
“It’s okay. I don’t really mind,” you shrug. “They can be as grumpy as they want. You’re still going to train me no matter what, right?”   
“Of course. I refuse to ever bow to them.”   
Toji grits his teeth, visibly seething, and meanwhile, Satoru crosses his arms. He came with you, of course. He outright refused to let you go on your own. Even though you reassured him that Toji would be by your side, but still. As always, he’s overprotective to a fault. He probably fears the Zen’in Clan might mistreat you, the way your own clan did.   
“If they say something to get on my nerves, we’re leaving,” Satoru mutters.   
“You should,” Toji nods. “Everyone here is disgusting trash, dragged up from the deepest, murkiest recesses of hell —”   
“Alright, alright, let’s just go!” you exclaim, grabbing both of them by the hands and pulling them along.   
It’s strange, being in a place that you know so much about, and yet, it still feels so foreign. You already know that in the future, all of these people will be slaughtered. By Maki. You’re not quite sure what it’ll take to prevent that. Maybe if you’re able to keep Mai safe. But then again, this place is home to parents such as Maki’s father, who would go so far as to try and kill his own daughters, so you’re not even sure if you want to save them.   
You suppose you’ve got plenty of time to think about it. A lot will happen before then. You need to focus on saving everyone else first.   
You and Toji are both used to being looked down upon. You’re no stranger to cruel, scornful looks, and neither is he. Evidently, though, the Zen’in Clan members weren’t expecting Gojo Satoru to show up as well. Because he’s here, no one dares to so much as even frown at you. Some stop and stare for a few moments, having never laid eyes upon him before, some instinctively cast their heads down, and others opt to avoid looking at him altogether, out of jealousy, inferiority, and resentment.  
You have to admit, having Satoru here helps. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to try anything funny.   
You’re brought to one of the rooms and told to wait for the head of the clan to arrive. Snacks and tea have been laid out for you, and you happily gorge yourself, seemingly without a care in the world.   
Toji sighs. “You’re making yourself right at home, aren’t you?”   
“I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you reply, cheeks stuffed. “They put out these snacks for us, so it’s okay if I eat all of them, right? They won’t get mad?”   
“I doubt it, but it’d be funny if they did.”  
Ironically, you, the weakest of the bunch, are the least concerned out of everyone. Toji is in a shit mood because he hates everything and anything to do with the Zen’in Clan, and Satoru is stressed out because he’s constantly worrying about you, and meanwhile you’re just… chilling. Also, the snacks are pretty good. You might seriously finish them all at this rate.   
Time passes. It seems the clan leader is determined to make you wait as long as humanly possible. Honestly, you’re starting to wonder if he brought you here just to laugh at how he’s wasting your time. You feel like you’re being trolled.   
Eventually, though, the door to the room slides open.  
But it’s not at all who you were expecting to see.  
It’s a boy. He’s small, most likely around your age, and peering into the room inquisitively. His eyes widen when he takes note of Satoru, of course, but for some reason, he seems to be paying Toji the most attention of all.   
Ah.   
It takes a little while for you to realize who he is, because he’s still young and hasn’t yet dyed his hair in that distinct blond shade, and also, he’s missing his ear piercings. But you recognize those sharp, upturned brown eyes, and his childlike appearance becomes more and more familiar, the longer you think about it.   
This boy is none other than Zen’in Naoya.   
There he is. There’s the little misogynist.   
Naoya hesitates for a moment before stepping into the room. He’s alone, by the looks of it. The clan leader isn’t with him. You suppose he must have stopped by out of pure intrigue.   
Naoya eagerly slides the door closed, then bounds over to Satoru. “You’re him, right?” he asks, eyes all but sparkling. “You’re Gojo Satoru, aren’t you?”  
“Yeah,” Satoru replies, visibly disinterested.   
“Wow, cool! I never thought I’d actually get to meet you. I’m Naoya. My dad’s the leader of the clan, and he says that one day, I’ll take over as the new leader! Everyone tells me I’m a genius. I even manifested my cursed technique early.”   
Naoya puffs out his chest, looking proud as can be. He’s supposed to be a year younger than you, so he’s not even seven years old yet, but it seems like that ego of his is already going strong. Not that you’re surprised. That’s what happens when you spoil a kid and fill their head with arrogance and conceit. Kids are the product of their environment, after all.   
“That’s nice,” Satoru comments insincerely, and you almost feel bad for Naoya, because he grins widely, not realizing that it wasn’t a genuine compliment.   
Naoya then turns towards Toji, and his smile gets even brighter. “Toji, is it true? I heard that you’re training someone. He must be super strong, then. Since you agreed to help him. What’s he like? Wasn’t he supposed to come today? Or is he not coming until later?”   
“What do you mean?” Toji frowns. “She’s right here.”  
“ She ?”   
“Yes, she. As in, her. The girl sitting next to me. [Name].”   
Naoya slowly turns his head towards you, eyes gradually filling with horror. He can’t seem to believe what he’s hearing. Also, it probably doesn’t help that you’ve been stuffing your face with crackers this whole time.   
You hurry to swallow what’s in your mouth, then smile. “Hi, Naoya. I’m [Name]. It’s nice to meet you.”   
“What?” Naoya gapes. “Toji, this… is who you’re training? You’re training a girl ?”   
Oh boy. Here it comes.   
“... but girls are weak!”   
As expected, Naoya wastes no time in spewing his flawed ideology. He seems outright offended by you. In fact, up until now, you may as well have been invisible to him.   
“Especially this girl,” Naoya continues, pointing an accusing finger your way. “She barely has any cursed energy. I can tell. And she definitely doesn’t have a Heavenly Restriction like you do, Toji. Right? She’s a weakling. Why would you train a girl? It’s a waste of time. She doesn’t deserve it.”   
Toji narrows his eyes. “Is it really any business of yours who I decide to train?”   
Naoya takes a step back, faltering for a moment. You know that he looks up to Toji. Their relationship wasn’t really expanded upon much, but even though they’re cousins, they’re not very close. Naoya’s admiration for Toji is a one-way street. He might even be jealous of you because you get to train with his idol.   
“Why do you assume girls are weak?” you ask.  
“It’s not an assumption,” Naoya glares. “Girls are supposed to grow up and become wives, then give birth to powerful sorcerers. They’re not strong enough to fight. They should leave all of the serious stuff to men, and focus on cooking, taking care of children, and making their husbands happy.”   
“Hm. I see.”   
You stare at him long and hard, watching as he clenches his fists and grows more frustrated by the second.   
Then, you smile.   
“I think you’re kind of stupid.”   
Naoya blinks repeatedly. It actually looks like his brain short-circuits for a few moments. Once again, he can’t help but feel like his ears are deceiving him. He’s a genius. That’s what everyone always says.   
No one has ever, ever called him stupid.   
“Take that back!” Naoya childishly exclaims. “Who do you think you are to talk to me that way? I’m not stupid! I’m a hundred percent smarter than you are! You’re just a dumb, weak little girl, and you must have tricked Toji into training you!”   
Satoru’s expression darkens. “Hey. You don’t get to say that to her. I’m the only one who’s allowed to call [Name] dumb.”   
Even though the strongest sorcerer in the world is addressing him, right now, Naoya is so focused on his hatred of you that he doesn’t even pay him any mind. You’re not invisible anymore. Suddenly, you’re the only person he can see.   
And it pisses him off.   
“I just think what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense,” you shrug. “How could all women be weak? I’m sure some are weak. But there are men who are weak, too. Anyone can be weak. Or strong. Nothing is set in stone. And if you put in enough effort, then it’s even possible for someone who used to be weak to become strong. That’s how I see it, at least.”   
Naoya grits his teeth. He’s so angry that he’s shaking. Clearly, his ego took a massive hit when you called him stupid. But if he’s going to say stupid things, then you feel compelled to point out just how stupid they are.   
“[Name] is easily smarter than you,” Satoru sighs. “She’s even smarter than me . She likes to act dumb, but she’s actually gifted. She’s only seven years old, but academically, she’s as smart as a high-schooler. Between the two of you, she’s the real genius.”   
“...what?”  
Naoya looks taken aback. Since Gojo Satoru said it, it must be true. Once again, his brain can’t compute. He’s supposed to believe that a girl is superior to him? No… even if it’s true, it doesn’t matter. What matters is strength , and that’s something you don’t have.   
“S-So what if you’re good at school?” Naoya huffs. “Studying and getting good grades doesn’t mean anything. You’re still weak . We’re jujutsu sorcerers. Are you going to pull out a textbook while you’re fighting a curse and expect to win? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a girl, and you need to take back what you said about me being stupid, or else I’ll get really angry!”   
He proceeds to slam his little fists down onto the table, and in doing so, he accidentally breaks one of the small plates in half. You watch as he winces, and a cut appears on his hand. It’s a relatively shallow wound, but blood flows from it nevertheless.   
Naoya bites down on his lip, tears pricking his eyes. He’s clearly resisting the urge to cry. He’s probably been taught never to show weakness, or to complain. Still, he’s only a kid, and it must hurt. Plus, he’s probably pretty embarrassed right now. You’d feel bad for him if he started wailing in front of his beloved Toji.   
You offer a gentle smile, and without saying anything, you reach out and grab Naoya’s hand in yours. He flinches, and he’s probably just about to slap your hand away, but before he manages to, you take a deep breath and concentrate.   
It only takes a few seconds. One moment, Naoya is cradling his bleeding cut, and the next, you’re wiping his blood off with a napkin and revealing clear, unblemished skin.  
“There you go,” you beam. “All better now. You’re okay, right? It doesn’t hurt anymore?”   
“Huh…?”   
Naoya stares down at his hand in disbelief. He swears there was a cut there, just a second ago. But now, it’s… gone? And so is the pain. It’s already a thing of the past, and it leaves him wondering whether he just imagined the whole thing.   
…no, that can’t be. After all, the broken plate is still there. The broken plate he cut himself with just a few moments ago. Which can only mean that you healed him. You healed him? Seriously? Someone like you knows reverse cursed technique, which is something even the most elite sorcerers struggle to grasp?  
All of a sudden, it feels like the entire room is spinning. Naoya swears he’s seeing stars. Everything is so backwards. Nothing makes any sense. The fact that you know how to use positive energy, the fact that Toji is training you… just, none of it.   
And to make matters even worse, you’re still smiling.   
“Like I said,” you hum. “Anyone can be strong. You never know what to expect, so maybe you should try to give people a chance.”    
Naoya doesn’t respond. He can’t come up with what to say, and even if he tried to speak, he doubts the words would form.   
From this moment onward, he won’t be able to get you off his mind.
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livingincolorsagain · 2 days ago
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tagged by @saryasy for a 2024 fic roundup, thanks for the tag babe <3. a bit late but hey im here now lol
July
pledge allegiance to my burning heart (2.3k, t) (rebloggable link)
Eddie’s always wanted the things he couldn’t have, but Buck already has a designated spot on his couch.
first buddie fic of course had to be couch theory. and eddie’s pov.
August
and you won’t let it (1.4k, t) (rebloggable link)
It’s just… he’s watching Eddie, standing near the fence, away from almost everyone, a drink in hand and a smile on his face, a beautiful, bashful smile that is directed at Marcus.
Marcus, who’s a friend of Karen. Marcus, who’s tall and smart and handsome. Marcus, who’s a goddamn rocket scientist. Marcus, who paused after hugging Karen and wishing her a happy birthday, because he spotted Eddie there by plates, having a very serious discussion about ladybugs with Jee-Yun.
Marcus, who’s been talking to Eddie all day, making him smile and laugh, then dragging him away from the party, so now they’re standing alone, and Buck doesn’t know what they’re saying, what they’re talking about, but Eddie’s cheeks are flushed even more than usual, his eyes are bright and glistening even as he ducks his head, staring at the glass in his hand for a long moment, and Marcus’ eyes stay on him until he’s looking up again, shrugging, as if to say what the hell, why not.
(Or, Eddie dances with a guy. Buck is very normal about it actually, thank you very much.)
jealous insane buck who wants to crack his chest open so eddie can crawl inside. what’s not to love
September
sunlight through a window (443, g) (rebloggable link)
The last rays of sunlight peek through the curtains of Eddie's bedroom window, spreading over the bed.
Buck is sitting against the headboard, a pillow stuffed behind him and a light blanket covering him.
Covering them, because Eddie is flush against his side, warm skin on warm skin, slick with cooling sweat. Buck has an arm around his narrow waist, fingers idly rubbing over the smooth skin, back and forth, up and down, until he reaches a spot that has Eddie giggling, a full body jerk.
Buck smiles, drags his fingers lightly over the same spot one more time, Eddie growls playfully, takes hold of his hand but doesn't move it away as he says, "stop," and only managing to sound breathless about it.
Buck's smile widens, and he turns his head to the side, looks down at Eddie's upturned face, breath stuttering, because one of the sun's stray rays is falling across Eddie's face, making his eyes a molten golden brown that threatens to unravel Buck, bury him, keep him warm and loved.
October
of pretending; (351, g) (rebloggable link)
Eddie thought he would get used to the silence. He thought as the days and weeks and months went by, it would get easier, feel less cutting, less hollowing, less like someone had carved his heart out of his chest and left a jagged hole behind.
It didn’t.
He put the decorations up alone, took them down alone, even though he brought them long ago with Christopher and Buck. Even though he only really brought them because they both loved the tiny pumpkins and little sitting skeletons and the orange and pink lights, obsessing over where they were going to place them right in the middle of the aisle as Eddie watched them, heart so full it almost spilled over.
November
in the passenger seat (1k, t) (rebloggable link)
“I drive,” Eddie repeats, rolling his eyes in Chimney’s general direction.
“Yeah,” Hen says, and now she’s smiling, “when absolutely necessary.”
“Everyone drives when absolutely necessary! What, you want me to drive around for fun?”
“Some people do,” Buck chimes in, utterly unhelpful, he guesses, given the look Eddie throws his way.
“That’s terrible for the environment.”
Well. That is true. Buck swallows down his own smile and shrugs.
“Eddie,” Chimney says, walking back over to the table, “how did you get to work today?”
Eddie frowns. “That’s neither here nor there.”
Buck’s lips twitch. Eddie’s cheeks are flushed pink. Buck knows, from experience, how soft and warm they feel under his lips, under his thumbs when he presses them into the dimples there, swipes them back and forth over the skin, watching Eddie’s eyes flutter close then open slowly, heavy-lidded and brilliantly brown and endlessly loving.
“Because Buck drove you here?”
(Or, Evan Buckley was put on God’s green earth to drive Eddie Diaz around.)
passenger princess eddie diaz. that’s it. that’s the plot. (okay there’s also a lot of feelings. it’s me after all)
the stars are still in the sky (600~, g)
The quietness stretches, blankets them, as the wind picks up, the cold intensifying; like it's putting up a fight it knows it's going to lose once the sun breaks through the horizon.
Eddie says, "I'm going to miss you," then pauses, takes a deep breath, "I think I already do."
And Buck feels the words land in his chest like sharded glass, his heart splintering like an old piece of wood that needs to be sanded down.
He closes his eyes against the burn, his throat closing, and it takes him too long to open his eyes and say, "I'm going to miss you, too."
Eddie sits up a little, locks one arm in place and rests his head on his palm. He has a gentle smile on his face when Buck turns to look at him, and Buck suddenly feels caught, trapped with nowhere to go, and when he opens his mouth, he says,
"We can always, y'know, look at the stars. Together."
might actually be one of my favorite fics ive posted this year
half his heart and soul (320~, g)
Buck gets it, is the thing. He would do the same, he thinks, if he were in Eddie's shoes. He would do it all, and more, for Christopher. So, he gets it.
He's not mad, he's not confused. He understands.
Eddie's heart and soul is in El Paso, Texas, so he's following it.
What he doesn't understand is the way Eddie is still wringing his hands nervously, fidgeting. He doesn't understand why he can only meet Buck's eyes fleetingly, like he knows, if Buck looks for more than a second at a time, he would see something he doesn't want him to see.
And Buck wants to see, but he's being a good friend, so he doesn't ask. Doesn't chase Eddie's eyes, no matter how much he wants to.
December
almost married (340~, g)
Buck is mindlessly browsing through suits when Eddie steps out of the changing room, arms spread out a little, hair swooping, cheeks pink, and a bright smile stretching his lips.
Buck's breath hitches, and he blinks once, twice, before abandoning the rack of suits and walking over to Eddie.
"What do you think?" Eddie asks, still smiling brightly, like he already knows what Buck thinks.
"Do a spin," Buck says, sounding a little breathless, and Eddie laughs, but he does do a spin, raising an eyebrow when Buck fails to look away fast enough from how the pants are snuggly hugging his ass.
"Yeah," Buck says softly, "That's the one."
Eddie beams. "Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah," Buck takes another step closer, and now he's close enough Eddie has to slightly tilt his face up to keep looking at his face. "Yeah, it is."
no pressure tagging @confessionseddie @buick118 @moonsharky @letthesunburnyourskin @capseycartwright @tidesreach <33
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mixedstyles · 1 month ago
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Is it weird I kinda want a year where the driver championship is fought between Max and Valtteri? Like I want Valtteri to be number one driver in a competitive car so badly. Because he SLAYED in Mercedes. But he was the number two driver. I also just think it would be a very interesting dual 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
Also did you know Valtteri, Lewis, and Max have the most podiums shared by the same trio (20)
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nightly-ruse · 2 years ago
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I think about the two sides of Mapleshade’s ending so much.
Like the idea of the death of her kits, murders, and own death going on the make a Queen’s Right thing is SO COOL I just eat that up (recommend bonefall’s au he did this and it’s sick)
But also the idea of either never being found out and just living her life know her kids aren’t Birchface’s but raising that way, lying to her whole new family, and still living. Is incredibly interesting. Or the idea of her running off to the farm and raising her kits there.
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ginzuras · 1 month ago
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still thinking abt the ashfur redemption au if anyone was wondering
#i’ve decided it’s now featuring squilf and bramble tension during po3 bc she wants the deputy spot#added tension to her choice to foster mother for leaf bc she knows it sets her back from becoming deputy#but she loves leaf more than . anything else#but also maybe there’s a little resentment there anyway#anyway she doesn’t tell anyone who the kits father is#but everyone assumes it’s ash bc he and squilf are still . close friends#neither of them do anything to deny this bc it’s easier than explaining the truth#(ash does not know the truth either)#anyway in the meantime fire is having a Weird Time watching all of this#thinking of bluestar and the choices she made and why she made them#knowing squilf wants to be leader#bramble in this au is not Evil but he is a little more aggressive and prideful bc of hawk & tigers influence#and fire is looking at his daughter and looking at who he chose as his deputy#and wondering if he made the right choice#meanwhile ash is like (staring out at the lake) i think im gay#and missing hawk and feeling so conflicted and wrong about this#and can’t talk to squilf bc he’s terrified those actually Are his kits#and she’s desperate to talk to him bc she needs support rn but she can’t be fully honest with him abt this#without betraying her sister#if i didn’t clarify this before ash and squilf did have a Thing#but then they both realized they weren’t actually interested in each other#it was just easier to pretend they were than to confront reality#reality being ash is gay and in love with the son of the guy who killed his mom#and his not bf manipulating him to be the backup plan for orchestrating fire’s death#and for squilf it’s ‘i’m probably a lesbian but i have a job so i don’t have time for that’#i will continue writing this in tags because erm.#i have anxiety#anyway<3#have a nice night
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rowarn · 7 months ago
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IF YOU NEEDED ME !
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simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !
tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)
; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.
or.
he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.
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Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable. 
You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.
A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.
“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.
“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.
He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator. 
“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.
You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”
He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”
“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”
Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.
A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 
You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 
But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 
You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.
Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 
You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.
You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 
You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 
Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 
Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 
Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.
“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”
“I–”
“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”
“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.
You’re so pissed. 
Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 
But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.
How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 
“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”
Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.
“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.
You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 
By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 
You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 
When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 
You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.
It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 
You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 
You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 
You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 
The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 
Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 
He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.
“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.
He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 
He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 
“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”
He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.
“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”
“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.
“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.
“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”
Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”
“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 
He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 
“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 
“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”
“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”
“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”
You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.
You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”
“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.
You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 
He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”
“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.
“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”
The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 
You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 
There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 
He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 
“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.
He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”
“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”
“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 
The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 
You want him.
Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 
He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 
A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 
Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.
He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 
Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 
You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 
“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”
“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 
“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.
“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 
“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”
“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 
You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 
“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”
“I-I’m just–”
“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”
“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”
The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”
“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.
You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 
Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.
As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 
He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 
When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 
“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 
His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 
The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.
Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 
“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 
He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 
He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.
To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.
He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 
He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 
Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 
He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 
And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 
“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 
He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”
“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 
“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 
He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 
You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 
He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 
Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 
You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 
His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.
As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 
He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 
Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 
You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 
“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 
Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 
You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 
He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.
“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 
You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”
“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 
“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.
“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”
You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 
He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 
It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 
As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 
Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 
He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 
It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 
“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 
He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 
And fuck, do you love it. 
The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.
You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 
Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 
He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 
He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 
You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 
His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 
He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 
“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.
“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.
“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 
You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.
When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.
“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 
Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 
He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 
You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 
“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 
He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 
More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 
He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 
He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 
“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”
“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”
“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 
He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 
He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 
You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 
Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 
Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 
You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.
“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”
“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.
“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 
“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.
“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”
You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 
He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 
After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.
Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 
You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 
His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.
“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.
His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”
His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 
When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 
He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 
“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”
“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 
He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”
You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”
He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 
You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 
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this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!
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ramonathinks · 7 months ago
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tags: older reader x younger satoru gojo, squirting, slight overstimulation, oral (f), smut | gojo satoru
note: i actually don’t like this fr but lol
you’ve never had a real orgasm. not at all in your almost 33 years. no man has ever even almost got you there. but you didn’t know that, you thought you had one before. feeling a bit good and then the feeling disappeared. you were… satisfied maybe? but it was always like this with guys your age.
so you knew why it was different with satoru. but man, it was different. really different.
he was 6’7, had a pretty long and girthy cock between his legs and always had a goofy smile on his face. he was 25 and for some reason… he was interested in you, instead of the younger and presumably prettier girls in the office.
from the moment he transferred to your department, he was in your face and trying to get your attention. it was always something with him — picking up some coffee for you, walking you to your car, and flirting.
it was always something small… a whisper in the ear to praise you for the good job on your presentation or a hand on your lower back.
it was supposed to only be dinner. yet here you are, with him in your bed and his mouth on your cunt.
“you’re delicious.” he mutters, lapping at your folds, stretching your lips open so he can get every bit of wetness spilling out of you. he was avoiding your flit, getting closer and closer before he moved away to focus elsewhere. kissing the trail of wetness on your thighs or dipping his tongue back inside of you. your stomach clenched and you could feel more wetness spilling out and that’s when his lips met your clit — a tiny kiss before he rubbed his face into you and sucked hard enough to make your toes curl.
he can barely wait anymore, he climbs off the bed before removing the last layer of his clothing and rubbing his aching leaking cock against your folds. pushing in, you both moan.
“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his hips back and forth, inching himself in. he’s holding back, seeing your face twist between pain and pleasure.
“please i—” your brain is fuzzy and feels like mush, you can barely think. he’s so big and just from what’s inside, he’s close to digging you out.
“shhh… you don’t have to beg senpai. i’ll give it to you right now,” his face is still wet with your juices as he speaks and he releases a short moan feeling you around him. “feels so good already—” he says.
pulling himself al the way out just to slam back inside of you, before he slows down so you can feel every inch of him. speeding his pace so his tip can just almost touch a spot that you never had touched before… a spot you didn’t know existed, but knowing that he was close to something and feeling it .. did something to you
“sator—ahh!” your thighs are shaking and you feels big pressure in your insides that make you try to move him off of you. “i feel like ‘m going to…” he’s slamming into you with one hand on your clit as if he knows what you’re going to say.
a squirt of wetness flows as he keeps moving inside of you and you can see that wetness on his lower half but he doesn’t seem to mind it; his face is in pure bliss as he stares back into your eyes. he pushes on your stomach more, more wetness leaking onto your sheets. your eyes are rolled back but he grips your thighs and forces you to sit on top of him.
“can’t-”
“but you will, right… for me, senpai?” and it was something about him calling you senpai again that made you squirt more uncontrollably, splashing more than just a stream. he grabs your ass and grips it hard, pulling you up and down his cock. your insides tightened around him and you unconsciously rolled your hips a few times.
you could feel a wave of everything washing over you, his cock hitting a different part deep inside you, which made your back snap and you wrap your legs around him even more, cumming in his lap with a big moan; a mixture of both cream and squirt soaking his lap.
“i’ll make sure you never forget who made you cum this hard.” he kisses you, grabbing your jaw so that you can open your mouth before he spits in your mouth and you groan, sinking your nails into his back.
you wake up late, almost in the middle of the afternoon, wrapped in your sheets and satoru gone. you aren’t so surprised but you put your robe on and walk down the stairs.
you hear talking or a bit of arguing.
“listen kid, im not leaving my daughters with you. now tell me—” you freeze at the voice of your ex and you see a fuming satoru.
“no you listen—”
holding the robe even more tightly together, you walk towards the two men to make your presence known. “c’mon girls, there’s food on the table.” your daughters race to the kitchen.
“wait babe, i made that for us—” you shoot him a stare and satoru shuts his mouth.
“thanks for dropping them off, have a good day.” you shut the door and sigh. “why didn’t you wake me?”
“i tried but you were so worn out. i guess i overdone it…”
“you guess? i never came in my life and you…” you whispered, feeling dizzy thinking about last night.
“let’s get you something to eat.”
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tonycries · 8 months ago
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Bad Things (To You)
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Synopsis. Things they just can’t help but do to you in bed that have you feeling too good.
Pairings. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), pússytalking, light pússy-smacking (Toji’s), daddy kínk (Toji’s) cúmplay, squírting, slight exhibitionism (Sukuna’s), bondagé, chokíng, overstím, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. Was fl@gged n taken down, so here ya go PHEWWWWWWWWW. Also yeah Geto’s I said what I said.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Just the tip.” Or?
“T-Toji, I don’t think-”
“Shhh, doll. M’not talking to you…” Toji hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Angling his head just right to watch his aching cock between your legs - red, angry, just teasing your sloppy hole - ramming inside at such a filthy pace. 
Toji really can’t help but drink in your pretty gasps as he edges you closer and closer to- which orgasm was this again? Hell, he can’t even remember, he’s had you on his thighs - on his mouth - on his fingers. Too drunk off of you and those pretty lil’ moans falling from your lips. 
A sinful - flimsy - excuse that had Toji begging to finally put his aching cock in. On his knees, practically with the way he loops two strong arms tighter around your waist. Tight. Reaching down to give your pretty cunt a soft-
Smack!
“Ah! Hngh, what-”
“M’talking to her.”
And you can do nothing but keen, at both the stretch and the way he increases his pace. Giving you such a  taunting kiss on the cheek before talking - not to you, no - to your poor pussy. 
“Your pretty pussy says she can give cum f’me another time.” he grunts. Still just the tip, but already all sloppy desperation and nonsensical babbles. “I know she can. My good girl, no? Gonna cum on my cock?” 
And shit Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than right now. Because one look at you - all teary and gasping deliciously around him, bucking your hips for- mercy? More? has Toji wanting to cum right here. To just plunge his throbbing cock into you and add to that absolutely filthy pool of precum on the sheets below.
But no. He promised, right?
“S’too much- M’so full please.” you beg, pussy quivering with exhaustion because once Toji gets hooked it’s impossible to escape. And you don’t think you’ll make it out alive. 
“Really?” he hums, reaching down to lick those big fat tears streaming down your cheek. “And this is jus’ the tip? Too much for my baby?”
Positively cooing at how cute you were because you might say you can’t give him another one of your sinful little orgasms - but the way you were milking his cock deliriously, nails digging into his slutty waist to pull him closer, told him what he already knew. “She-” Looking down at your ravaged cunt, “-tells me you can.”
It’s all the confirmation Toji needs before he’s hitting your g-spot. Hard. Eyes widening at the way you gasp out a strangled moan of what sounded like his name. Pussy sucking him up so tight it almost hurt. 
Shit. 
Now, Toji’s had enough of playing nice. And he tells you - a little over twenty times, actually, while he slams into you like a man possessed. That promise of “just the tip” being the last thing on his mind while he fucks into you so dangerously deeper and deeper - inch by fucking inch. 
And fuck he thinks he’s never making that promise again because there was no sight like the one of your snug cunt being split apart on his cock. 
“Ya like that, doll?” he’s groaning, hips stuttering so mindlessly. Barely even thinking about getting himself off because fuck Toji needed to see you cum so bad. “See, now I know you can cum f’me again. And-” Toji throws your legs over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down- “-that slutty pussy of yours is saying that ‘just the tip’ might jus’ not be enough.”
A mating press. Toji Fushiguro had you in a fucking mating press. He was so unfair. Throwing you around like you were nothing but his lil’ plaything. Hissing so lowly against your lips as he bottoms out. Finally. “N’ I think she might jus’ be right.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Good lil’ wife!
There were only two things that had Nanami rushing home after a long day at work - you, and that pretty lil’ pussy of yours. 
The difference? Well, maybe it was the way Nanami had you bent over the kitchen counter, kissing your forehead gently, whispering soft little praises in your ear. His darling wife. 
Miles away from how he’s just pulling your drenched panties to the side - too impatient, too starved to remove them. “Was thinkin’ about this all day, my love” Weeping tip just kissing your sloppy hole. “Wanted to come home jus’ to- fuck- this cute lil’ pussy.”
Unforgiving. Nanami Kento was absolutely unforgiving. 
Because without another word, he’s stuffing your cunt so disrespectfully full. And oh, how he loved this view, loved the way your scramble to grab onto the counter - the shelves -  him. Just anything to get used to the stretch as he fucked into you in quick, mindless little thrusts. Like it killed him to wait.
Yeah, Nanami was sure that this was his favorite part of the day - a little reward when he gets home.
“Kento- ngh-” you keen. “D-did something happen at work?”
“No.”
Oh. Something did, probably a messed up report or another one of Gojo’s antics - but right now, talking about it was the last thing on Nanami’s mind. Because he was set and fully and completely ruining you.
Which is why he’s pooling some of the stray icing on the counter - were you baking before? It makes some dangerous, carnal part of himself jump at the thought of you making something for him. How adorable.
You gasp as you feel him harden impossibly inside you. So angry and hot as he dragged against your plushy walls. Veins bumping against your plushy walls in a dizzying little bump! bump! bump! Shit, you weren’t making it out alive. “Fuck- Kento you just got-” 
The taste hits you before the realization. Sweet - like icing. Whatever sentence at the tip of your tongue is cut off as Nanami bullies two fingers inside your mouth. 
The way you gag and moan so deliriously around him has all the blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, Nanami has to steel himself from painting your slutty pussy white right then and there - that wouldn’t make him too good of a husband now, would it? How dare he even think of cumming before you do.
“Shhh.” he huffs, hot against your ear. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, catching on the stray smudges of icing. His favorite. “Jus’ take it f’me, my girl.”
All your muffled whines have Nanami only slamming into you faster and faster. Your messy pussy was just soaking his aching cock - smearing your sweet juices all over Nanami’s heavy balls, seeping into your apron and- Ah, that apron. How Nanami loved to fuck you in this, such a cute lil’ pink number that had his cock twitching so dangerously inside you. 
Faster. Sloppier.
But it wasn’t enough. 
“Should’ve hah- expected this to happen, huh?” One hand snakes its way down to your throbbing clit, rolling the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more- “When you sent me those fucking pictures today?”
Because you weren’t quite the innocent little wife that you loved to pretend to be - no, you knew exactly what you were doing sending those selfies in this apron. And nothing else. 
“Better not pull that shit again, darling.” Nanami grunts at the sheer thought of it. Pressing at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and craning your head to look into his darkened gaze. “Wouldn’t want to regret it.”
Such pure pride shining in his eyes at your fucked out state - apron stained with the sticky mixture of your slick and his precum. 
And the one thing you know you won’t regret is the way you’re cumming. And cumming so hard that it almost hurts.
You, all messy and gorgeous cumming all over his cock, that Nanami can’t help but have his hips stuttering. so sloppy as he thrusts once, twice before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum. Tight balls squeezing so painfully as he cums the way he’s been dying to ever since he opened those sinful little messages from you. 
God, he loved coming home. Whispering, so deceivingly gentle against your lips, sounding miles away from your sweet lover. “Now, spread those pretty legs f’me, darling. Wan’ see if something else tastes as sweet..”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Spell my name (and yours)
“What’d that spell, m’girl?”  
Now, Geto always has been told he has a silver tongue - you just never expected he’d use it like this. With you, sat so prettily on his face, eyes watery, swollen lips dropping into a soft oh! as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
You gasp breathlessly, “I-”
Oh? Will you finally get it this time? 
“I don’t know.”
Well, to Geto, that just meant he wasn’t doing his job well enough. And he took that personally. 
You could almost sob in desperation as he pulls away ever-so-slightly, pathetically tugging on his dark locks to pull him closer. Uselessly. 
Because Geto loved this part. Loved spreading your quivering thighs shamefully apart, all the way until you were letting out such cute lil’ moans at the stretch. Loved acting all disappointed as he stopped making out with your pretty pussy to let her drip! drip! drip! your sweet sweet juices down his waiting tongue.
“M’disappointed.” he tuts, mockingly, your frustrated whines going straight to his aching cock. “Thought you’d finally get it this time, beautiful.”
It’s been like this for so long now, Geto teasing you with his mean tongue. Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock to spell out sinful little words on your dripping cunt - not letting you cum until you got them right. 
Oh it just made you want to cry in desperation - and you’re so drunk off of his hot mouth that you barely even realize when you do. Big fat tears dripping down your cheek as you whimper,  “S-Sugu, please. Jus’ wanna-”
“Cum?” he muses, giving your folds a long, languid lick. So unfairly gorgeous underneath you that it was almost dizzying - so smug in-between your legs, dark hair splayed across your pillow, your slick glossing all over his pretty pink lips. Ones which move as he plows on, “Then tell me what it spells.”
It’s laughable, really. That muffled little warning - if you can even call it that - before Geto’s diving back nose-deep in your pussy. 
Bullying his tongue through your swollen folds - circling your sloppy entrance, dipping in and out in and- It made his cock twitch so painfully to catch the way your mouth drops open in disbelief, torn between trying to catch what he was spelling and bucking up for more more more-
“First two letters?” 
You’re snapped out of your euphoric daze, eyes flitting down to where your boyfriend was devouring you with his eyes as much as he was with his mouth. 
“Uh- Ngh-” you mewl with each flick of his tongue. A warning. A threat. Slurring slightly at the overstimulation, “Is it- ah- G-E?”
At this, Geto lets out a happy groan - one that has white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes. Mouth only working faster, tracing out delirious little patterns on your pussy. Starting at the base, working all the way up to roll his tongue over your swollen clit. 
So rough that you wondered whether it hurt - whether his tongue was cramping up, jaw tired. 
“M’alright, sweetheart. Now, next letter.” 
Shit, had you said that out loud? Ah, you don’t get to wonder too long about it, because Geto’s rocking your cunt so messily over his soft mouth. Drinking in your broken whine of, “T! It’s T.”
“Good. Next.”
“C?” you babble, grinding down harshly. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as your clench around his soft tongue. But oh you were so cute that he just had to forgive your little mistake. 
“Nope.” Geto chuckles, popping off your throbbing clit with a lewd pop! “Try again.” Before starting his assault on your poor cunt again. Faster. Harder. Almost like he didn’t want you to get it.
He likes this - loves it even. Lapping up at your juices like it was his favorite taste, like he never wanted to leave. Just lay there and tease you for hours and hours and- 
“Ngh- O. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s O. Geto!” 
That’s right, spelling out his name on his girl’s pretty cunt - his his his- And, well, making you yell out what was to be your own last name soon? That was just a bonus.
It makes his balls squeeze so dangerously at how proud you were at your little victory. Walls fluttering around his tongue in a way that Geto knew meant you were close - too close. It almost makes him feel bad for what happens next. Almost. 
“Now now. Stay still, beautiful. Haven’t spelled out my first and last name jus’ yet.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - The thirsty
Choso loved you - so much so that it hurt. Everything from that pretty lil’ smile to the way you say his name in bed. And - nobody ever knew this - but he especially loved you when you squirted all over his achingly hard cock, until it was glistening and drenched with you.
The first time it happened was an accident - knuckle-deep in you when he’d hit that one spot just a bit too hard. Watching in awe as you soaked his fingers in your juices, so sloppy and dripping all the way down his wrist. 
An accident. A sinful, dangerously convenient accident. One that had poked such a carnal, primitive part of Choso awake. One that had you here - legs spread so shamefully open, grip tight on your hips, bruising as he fucks you from behind. 
“Cho-” you mewl, tears soaking into your pillow. “I don’ think m’gonna ngh- squirt.”
“No.” he moans, sounding as if his sanity was dancing away from him with each time his twitching balls smacked your ass. So heavy and just aching to cum - but not yet. No, he had more important things to do. “No no no- Fuck- need this so bad- you don’t understand, baby.”
And oh with the desperation of a madman, Choso’s snaking a hand down to toy with your swollen clit. Flashes of white behind your eyes each time he draws quick, maddening little circles on it. 
“But-”
Faster. Sloppier. Not even circles because Choso thinks he might just go insane if you don’t cum now, all over his fingers and his cock and-
Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you before you’re cumming all over Choso’s fingers. It barely even feels like it, just a few exhausted tingles that have your vision spotty, tears clinging to your lashes at the pure overstimulation. 
And the haze has barely even cleared up before Choso’s moving again, as if on instinct. No rhyme or reason. So messy with the way he was squeezing his cock into your tight pussy in mindless, sloppy grinds like he couldn’t take it anymore - and he probably couldn’t.
“O-one more.” he groans like a mantra. Slamming his hips hard enough that it would leave marks for tomorrow - his hip on your ass, fingers on your waist. “Jus’ one more- fuck fuck need this need this-”
You just wished you had the energy to turn around and catch whether Choso looked as fucked-out as he sounded. Low moans turning into broken whines like he was begging you. Begging himself. 
Abs rubbing against yours, crushing you with his weight while he tried to milk that last, sweet orgasm out of you. Running only on the thought that this next one would hopefully have him soaked with your sweet sweet juices, dripping off of him. 
“Ngh- baby, do it f’me.” Choso’s babbling in your ear, dark hair tickling your neck. Hoarse little grunts leaving him each time he hit that plushy spot inside you, sending stars behind your eyes. “C’mon I want it. Need it so bad. Fuck fuck fuck-”
“But I don’t know if I can-” that little doubt makes its way out of you, in a soft delirious whine that has Choso twitching so ferally inside you. Close, he was so close. Too close - this had to be the one. 
“You- ah- can, baby.” he latches onto the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Fingers frenzied on your ravaged clit now, matching the time of his hips as he thrusts once. Twice. “You will.”
And you weren’t even sure if your last orgasm had bated before the next one was crashing in. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks, at the same time your quivering pussy soaks Choso - all of him. Over and over-
Unstopping even when he’s shuddering to a halt, painting your poor pussy white with his cum, forming such a sinful pool on the sheets as you cum and cum and-
And Choso can’t even bring himself to be disgusted - because it doesn’t feel real. He’s here, pure electricity thrumming through his veins, your walls milking him so deliciously good, and just glistening and covered in your sweet juices. It’s all he’s ever wanted. 
Well, for now. Because look at you, exhausted, thighs still shaking with the intensity of your orgasm - so fucking gorgeous - a mean little part of Choso can’t help but think - 
What if he could make you squirt twice?
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - To taste, to command
“This what you want, brat?” he grins, grinding his angry, clothed erection on your pussy. Teasing. Torturous. “Wan’ to be split apart on m’cock, huh?”
Now, usually Sukuna would punish you a little more at that delirious little nod you give him - tell you to use your words like a good girl. But right now - shit, he’d never admit it - he’s been dying to get a lil’ taste of your cunt.
Pushing your legs further upwards, bending you in half all the way till your knees reach your tits. Mouth just watering at the way your pretty cunt was all glistening and clenching around nothing for him. At the idea of you crying on his tongue like you’re his favorite meal and-
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Master, we have guests. Curses from the far North seeking court.”
Ah, shit. Just when he was getting to the good part. Though, one look at you - and that adorable little pout - has Sukuna wondering - why does he need to stop?
Your head absolutely spins with the fact that Uraume was standing right outside, and Sukuna was still lowering himself back down till he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt. 
“Speak.” he hums, glossy lips latching around your swollen clit and it takes everything in you to not just scream. “I’ve got my mouth full.”
It’s the only thing said before Sukuna’s making out so sloppily with your pussy. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, no care in the world for whether or not anyone outside would hear the lewd little squelches come from down there. 
You, however, have your thighs squeezing uselessly together, half-hearted protests spilling from your lips about “they’ll know!”
Only to get a muffled, “Who cares?” as he dips his tongue into your messy hole. 
Sukuna didn’t exactly expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence - not with the way you were sprawled so shamelessly on his bed, with him nose-deep in your pretty pussy and only probing deeper. 
But, ah, you always did surprise him - because somehow you manage to blink away those big fat tears in your eyes, hips stuttering as you let out a breathy, “U-um, Kuna isn’t here right now.”
His cock twitches so dangerously at the words spilling from your lips - knowing exactly how to push his buttons just right. He hears Uraume shuffle outside, clearly sensing the traces of his cursed energy - heh, what fun.
“Do you know when…’Kuna’ will be back?”
God, your little nickname sounds so funny on their tongue that Sukuna’s huffing out a little chuckle into your cunt. The vibrations making you jolt and squeeze so sinfully around him. “Shhh, brat.” he cuts off your whine, “M’ ‘not here’, remember?”
With a half-hearted glare you’re pushing the great Sukuna’s head deeper into your sloppy pussy - mainly because you wanted more, but partly because you really needed him to be quiet right about now. And he takes it in stride, lapping up at your sweet juices. 
“He- uh-” you’re cut off with him bullying his tongue inside your sopping entrance. Stretching you out. Circling the ring of muscle. 
Urame sounded rightfully impatient now, “Yes, my liege?”
“He’ll be back later.” you choke out, face flushed at the way you were acting so pathetic and Sukuna was only smirking smugly into your folds. So blissed out as he rolled your clit between two fingers. “Very later. I’ll ah- let you…know.”
And honestly you don’t even hear Uraume’s quick “thank you” - or whether they even manage to make it far enough to miss the sharp yelp of Sukuna’s name as he doubles down on his efforts. 
He knew exactly what you needed. What you craved. Tongue pushing against all the right spots so harshly over and over- Having you choking and sputtering out nonsensical little praises that you’d be absolutely mortified if anyone else heard.
“Kuna-” you gasp breathlessly, hips bucking up for more more more- “Been s’good for you so- ngh- can I cum? Please?”
Hell, if everyone was this trash at his feet begged like this then Sukuna might just be able to call himself a merciful ruler.  Well, not merciful enough to give you what you’ve wanted for so along, apparently. Because immediately, Sukuna’s pulling away, flashing you such a devilish grin. “Buckle up, brat. Because I haven’t cum yet.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Tied up n’ gorgeous
Of course, the great Gojo Satoru has a whole box full of overpriced blindfolds. Ones a bit silkier than normal, a bit softer on the skin - not for wearing outside, no. Ones that were for times like this.
“Sweetheart, fuck- y’look so gorgeous like this.” he groans, kissing down the thin fabric tying you to the wooden bedpost. Down, down, down until he’s pushing his face in-between the valley of your breasts. “Almost makes me wan’ forgive you for being all mouthy earlier.”
Ah, there was that too - when you were extra sassy with him today, making a few too many comments about how dumb that blindfold looked. Like you just wanted this to happen. And it took only one too many defiant comments until he had you bound to the bed, pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. So needy for him.
“Ugh, m’sorry, Toru.” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently at him, breath hitching at the way his throbbing cock twitches painfully inside you at that. So easy. “Can you untie me. Please?”
“Hmmm lemme think.” Gojo looks down at you, a dangerous little smile curling his lips. “Nope.” And as if to further prove his point, he lets frustration out through you - stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. 
Biting his lip at how pretty you were all breathless, pussy bulging so obscenely around him that it was so fucking hard to look too. Too sinful. 
“But-” you whine, “I thought-”
“What that I’d be nice?” your loving boyfriend finishes your sentence for you. And oh his voice had that familiar tone of amusement but his eyes had anything but. Dark and half-lidded, some dangerously smug satisfaction sparking in the as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts. “Ya thought wrong, sweetheart~”
So high off the sight of you all cockdrunk and trapped - nowhere to run or hide. Though, you think you’d wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. 
Feeling so debauched and downright filthy. Groaning at the feeble ring of resistance as he pushes relentlessly.
And you need to spread your legs maybe - breathe - or just claw at Gojo’s back for his fucking massive cock and for showing you no mercy. But you couldn’t, not with his godforsaken blindfolds tied around your wrists, so fucking tight no matter how much you tug.
“Shit shit shit- fuck these ties.” you gasp, thighs and arms both aching as he uses you as he pleases. Body torn between shying away because the stimulation was too fucking much, and just bucking your hips wildly for more. “And fuck you, Toru.”
“Fuck me? Me?” Gojo has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh. Fingers moving down to toy with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his deft fingers in order to shut you up. “Real funny, sweetheart.”
God he almost considers going easy on you at your barely-lucid little squeals. Heavenly pussy squeezing him tighter than ever despite your little act. 
And you know it too - how your facade is crumbling bit by bit. How you’re reeling from both his merciless cadence and the way he was talking to you in such a mean little tone. 
Heart thumping as he swiftly reaches over - hips still unstopping - to grab another blindfold and oh-
“Funny enough that-” Gojo loops the blindfold around your neck, right over your racing pulse. Just lose enough that you can breathe, but tight enough that you’ll have such embarrassing marks to explain tomorrow. “I want to fucking ruin you, my girl.”
“Fuck- yeah- m’sorry, Wan’ it so much. Wan’ you to-”
At this point, you’re cockdrunk and delirious enough that you barely even realize when he’s tightening the blindfolds at your neck. Choking and stuttering at maybe his grip- maybe the way it felt like he was pushing into your lungs.
Gasping into your open mouth. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ Teeth tugging at the delicate fabric around your neck, catching on skin. Dangerous. Hips burning now as he licks away at the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek. “Then cum f’me, sweetheart.”
Hard. Violent. 
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears as you cum harder than you think you ever have.
And oh, it’s so adorable how you try to pull off the blindfolds, scrambling to grab onto Gojo for some- any semblance of sanity as you lay there, breathless and shaking. 
Cunt clenching so intoxicatingly around him that Gojo really can’t help but fill you up with his hot seed. Thick and so filthy. He’s got you in an iron-hold grip, hips moving in unstable, animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. 
Gojo planned to tease you a little longer, but, oh well - might as well just paint your pretty pussy white, right? Might as well fuck his cum deeper and deeper and-
“Hey, sweetheart, can you shittalk my blindfold again? I wanna have more angry sex.”
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A/N. Uraume definitely knew.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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sttoru · 7 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. talks of marriage. unprotected. breēding kink; crēampies. jealousy. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ not proofread; excuse the grammar. wc: 1.7k
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“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k pure gold necklace he purchased just today, with his initials on it.
something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couln’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.
the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. the older man is grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him. you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.
“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy. you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully. “i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”
each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.
“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?” the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.
“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips. he switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.
a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is. he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.
“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours. he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”
satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.
he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.
“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock. his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.
satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”
you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.
“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure. you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.
the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘n give you some proper loving.”
satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.
you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.
oh, don’t get him started on kids. satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.
satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.
even if satoru ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.
your lover nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.
satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”
your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.
his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body. satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of y’rs. . .”
his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.
satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.
he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.
satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return. the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “cunt ‘s gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”
satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.
“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath. your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”
your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.
“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.
his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.
“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal. your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.
he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.
he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.
“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.
his wife and partner for life.
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s0dium · 7 months ago
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Obsession
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Warning: Love drunk men, fingering, titty sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, love drunk reader
~
Love courses through your veins. He’s all you can think about.
You wonder if it's normal to be this enamored with someone, to be this hopelessly head over heels infatuated and obsessed. You can't even focus on what needs to be done anymore because he's absorbed your entire being; he's in your head when you wake up, a gentle whisper in the back of your mind during conversations, a constant in your dreams, day or night.
But it's a doomed one-sided crush you remind yourself. You're not even sure if he knows you exist and in quieter moments, you wonder if perhaps it’s better this way. Loving from a distance means you never have to face the potential heartbreak of rejection, never have to see that polite smile of someone who doesn’t return your feelings. It's safer, you tell yourself, to admire him from afar, keeping your heart guarded behind the shield of daydreams and what-ifs.
So surely, right now in this moment, you must be dreaming.
It feels too vivid, too intense to be just a figment of your imagination. The warmth of his breath against your cheek, the weight of his bare body pressing gently down on yours, the softness of his lips moving against your own with an insatiable hunger—it all feels astonishingly real.
Because it is.
You don't know how but now you're naked underneath him, letting him touch, grope, suck, kiss, nip, and bite anything his hands and mouth can find. He doesn't let up either, he's exploring your body like a starved man, like he'll never get a chance to touch you ever again and wont pull away until he's had his fill.
You gasp when you feel his fingers between your legs, tracing your inner thigh before gliding between your pussy lips. Instinctively, you jerk back at the feeling; his fingers collecting your arousal and sliding up and down. But before you can speak, he kisses you again, his tongue eagerly intertwining with yours. When he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless, a thin strand of saliva connects your mouths.
"Just let me take care of you okay?" He hums before dipping two fingers into your tight hole. "Just been waiting so long to do this."
You don't even have time to react before he's curling his digits and massaging a sweet spot you could only dream about hitting on your own. His other hand gropes your left breast and with his index and thumb, begins to play with your perky nipples. As if that wasn't enough, his mouth found your other breast and gave it the same attention, licking sucking, and rolling your nipple like it was candy.
Colors dance across your closed eyelids and you wonder if this is heaven, if you've died and reached nirvana because the pleasure is just that good. You dont know if you can handle this, handle the fact that he's sucking and playing with your nipples while finger fucking you. Your toes curl and uncurl from the hot searing euphoria that is absorbing your body and emitting from your core. Your back arches off the bed and your crying his name, moaning it even, something you only dreamed about doing late at night when you craved him.
Suddenly, his mouth releases your nipple with a pop and he ceases all of his ministrations, leaving you breathless and confused.
"Fuck, I-" He's breathless himself, his face flushed and pupils blown. "Need to be inside you, need to feel you." He practically groans, and you thickly gulp at his words. Your brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his abdomen after being released from its confines.
He watches you lay down on the bed, breasts and cunt glistening from juices. You dont know this but he actually thinks he is dreaming. You look like a painting right now and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from spilling just at the sight of you.
"Please," You whine, "Please fuck me."
Who is he to deny you?
Without a word he presses his tip against your entrance and slides into you, grunting at the snug fit of your walls. You let out a loud moan from the feeling of him filling you so so perfectly, so well you mentally curse yourself for thinking a dildo or your fingers could ever do the job.
Then with a moan of his own, he slides out of you, nearly leaving you empty, before rocking himself back into you. Oh, how he wanted to fuck you slow and nice, like you deserved, but as the seconds passed, his resolve seep away until he just couldn't possibly hold back anymore.
His thrusts become faster, quicker, slamming in and out of you with such vigor and ease due to your combined juices coating and dripping from both his length and your hole. The friction is delicious, and his tip seems to hit your g-spot perfectly with each thrust. He even grabs the underside of your thigh and pushes them against you, effectively folding you and half and allowing him to go even deeper inside you.
You could feel your rational slipping away as he groaned about how fucking good you felt, about how good you where taking him, how he had been dreaming about this. You want to say something too, say something about how you feel the same way, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth right now is wanton moans of his name.
The pleasure was becoming too much, it had been slowly building and building and you know your about to break any second, burst with such euphoria you don't know if you will ever come back from the high. Before you do though, your brain manages to work again for half a millisecond to express the exact words you are feeling.
"Love you! M'love you so much!" You gasped before letting yourself succumb to the mind-numbing orgasm that was waiting for you. Your whole body shook and quaked from the pleasure and your mind went white. You thought you might cry, from happiness or pleasure you did not know. But you didn't. You simply went limp while you let him use your body like a sex doll.
You are barely clinging onto consciousness when you feel his hips stutter against you and he scoops you up, holding you close while he cums inside you.
"Love you too, love you too." He groans against your ear.
Any character you want ;)
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who-is-there · 8 months ago
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I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-
-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.
-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.
-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.
-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.
-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if you’re leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.
-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.
The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.
It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.
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k-hotchoisan · 7 months ago
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save a horse, ride a cowboy
<san x fem!reader>
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Choi San. Half naked. Cowboy hat. Useless ass crop vest.
Your dreams are wetter than the sweat on his chest.
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a/n: no words just horny thoughts the moment choi san appeared like that in the mv and I needed to get it off my chest. 🤗
wc: 1.8K
warnings: smut. pwp, party!au, deepthroating, blowjobs, slight hair pulling, one time spanking (LMAO), orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, it's just choi san brain rot, kinda dacryphilia?, yo it's just straight up filth that's all you need to know
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan  @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf  @jeon-ify @itza-meee @Miss-Fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @owlbeforesunset @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @Haleyjoye @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @ewok7attack @yunhogrippers @kibs-and-bits @Liyahbug  @mikrausch @sophiemueller05 @lissiesykes  @yeo-arriba @luvt0kki @vic0921 @httpseungmxn
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You stare down at the man a couple of feet away, his figure too prominent to miss. He’s in a useless black cropped vest, bronze studs lined up the hems of the clothing accompanied with long fringe details that hung lower than the fucking vest itself. You barely take notice of the leather pants he wore, mostly because his arms were just there—thick and so perfectly muscled. But the star of the fucking show? His bare fucking tits. The vest barely covered jack shit, his tits just basking under the dim lights, thick and perky. Your eyes shift to his face before you start flooding the vicinity with your drool. Hell no. 
San still hasn’t noticed you. Maybe it’s because of the obnoxious black cowboy hat he has on looking like it’s blocking his view or something. And he tops the look off with a simple black bandana decorated with fringes that he wraps around his neck. 
You want to wrap yourself around his neck too. 
Your hunky little crush still doesn’t seem to notice you blatantly ogling him since it looks like he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mingi. 
The sound of a desert-themed party sounded interesting to you when your friend brought it up to you but it didn’t hook you in enough to actually garner your interest to go, that was, until your friend had offhandedly mentioned that San would be there.
You didn’t put your hopes up of course, because in your peripherals, it seemed like you weren’t the only pair of eyes just eye fucking San, and so you were satisfied letting your fantasies just stay within the confines of your brain, now just full Choi San brain rot. 
And when your brain starts ringing alarms on San looking like he was looking your direction, your eyes immediately shifting to your drink. But it seems like you caught his attention. 
From your peripherals, you watch him push past people, approaching you much quicker than you had liked. 
“Hey, y/n, caught you staring”, he smiles cheekily. 
“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you Choi San?” 
He shrugs. 
Then he mouths something, but you can’t seem to catch what, and that sentiment seems to have been written all over your face, because the smell of spicy citrus hits you, accompanied by the low rumble of San’s voice right at your ear, freezing you at your spot.
“I was saying that you’re a pretty cowgirl today.”
Shit. Fuck. 
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You stare up at San, tears gradually pooling at the corner of your eyes at how fucking thick this man’s cock is. But gods did it feel so fucking good to have San’s fat fucking cock shoved down your throat like that. You watch the way his abs contract when his groans are pulled out from him, the way his nipples are so fucking hard from how horny he is making you suck him off like that. Your panties are pretty much useless at this point trying to keep your slick from trickling down your thighs. 
“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me aren’t you?” San groans, his fingers tugging harder against your scalp, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You manage to hum in agreement almost too quickly, and San only scoffs at your desperation, well not that he’s holding up any better. His eyes shut again, and he throws his head back, rutting his hips against your face, his moans going up in pitch, and when he happens to steal a glance at your face fucking his cock, you feel the space in your mouth fill up even more. 
Only curses and moans leave San’s mouth, and there’s only so much force you can use to squeeze your thighs from holding your cunt off from leaking all over the fucking floor. 
“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dollface. I can’t fucking—fuck!—can’t fucking wait to fuck your other tight little hole next”, San huffs breathlessly, his sanity dangerously dropping in levels. 
With a broken, deep moan, he suddenly pulls out of your mouth, fucking his cock with his hand instead, letting his cum spill over your mouth and chest, slightly shaking from the pleasure especially when he can’t keep his eyes off you licking his cum off his cock and the corner of your lips. 
You watch him catch his breath, and he’s so fucking attractive when he furrows his brows like that, but you decide to pull away to get some towels to clean yourself up. 
The moment you stand and turn around, San’s arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest, and you realise his fingers are loosening the knot on your top, and San doesn’t waste time to yank it off your shoulders. You barely have the time to process but you realise it doesn’t fucking matter the moment his deep voice bleeds right into the crevices of your brain. 
“Now where do you think you’re going babe? I said I was gonna fuck your other hole next, wasn’t I?” 
No more butterflies in your stomach anymore, it’s probably a whole ecosystem at this point. 
San’s fingers intertwine with yours, unfortunately, he doesn’t let it stay a second more fluffy when he has you on the bed, his thick fingers tugging off every single useless piece of clothing off you. San licks his lips when he’s greeted with the sight of your pussy just so fucking wet and leaking for him. His eyes meet yours, and he looks like he’s about to eat you up any second.
“How much do you like walking straight?” He asks, his fingers trailing a fucking blaze down your thighs, and you watch the way his cock hardens—the way precum from his silt is mixing with the thick cum from before when his thumb tugs against your wet folds. 
He looms over you, fingers keeping your legs spread wide open for him, his pants pulled lower, his half-hard cock resting on your inner thigh. 
“Not much of a fan”, you reply, realising that trying to snap your legs shut with Choi San’s fingers in between them was a stupid idea. 
“Good”, is all San replies before he pushes his thick cock right into your pussy, and you swear he’s knocked out all the wind from you at the way his thick cock slid in, filling your whole fucking pussy up. You gasp, fingernails digging into his arms, but he doesn’t even seem to take notice. But what he does take notice of is the way you’re fluttering around him, so fucking dazed at the way his cock feels in you. 
“So fucking good, San”, it leaves your lips as a whine. 
He exchanges a smile, “Your tight pretty pussy, and it’s all for me.”
Your eyes roll back when he pulls out slightly and thrusts into you again, and again, until the sounds grow wetter, louder, and San fucks you harder, making you wonder if you were gonna lose your legs or mind first. The sensations are completely melting off the neurons of your brain, and your hands are pressing against his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly. You feel your face flush slightly, wondering if he feels the same way as you do. 
Your thoughts are completely cut short when you feel his fingers curl around your neck, forcing you to look up at him when he lets his lips melt against yours. Your tongues meet, and you taste very light hints of alcohol underneath the sweetness. Soft moans pour out of San, and he’s only getting thicker inside of you as he lets your hands rake through his short locks.
“You’re like fucking heaven, you know that?” San whispers as he pulls back. The sweetness lasts for a second until he adds on, “And I wanna drag you down with me, baby.”
His arms are around you and he lifts you, in one swift motion, he has you straddling his hips, and you do him a favour by getting his pants off him. San pretty much kicks the remainder of his pants off, his arms pull you by your thighs to his once more, and you’re hoping you don’t drool because something about San being fully naked beneath you, only his vest barely covering his fat tits, just ready for you to fucking ride him was sending you into a fucking orbit. 
And even when you’re dripping and stretched open for San, the feeling of his cock splitting you open from below only threatened your remaining sanity. You watch San bite his lip, holding himself back from just bursting into you, also evident from the way his fingers are pressing hard against your thighs. 
But when you start grinding against him, he realises he probably isn’t gonna last much longer. 
And when his cock hits your spots for the nth time from below, your cunt flutters without warning, and the knot snaps before you could even say anything, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking tidal wave.
And San isn’t slowing down. 
His face is in complete bliss—muttering curses and releasing moans,
“Ah, fuck. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, he hisses, feeling you pulsate around him helplessly as he continues to fuck into you, forcing you to continue bouncing off his cock. 
Tears bubble at the corner of your eyes once more from the sheer pleasure the moment you feel San hold your ass down, your arms wrapped tightly around him, feeling his cock twitch and spurt warm cum right into your poor hole. Wait. Something feels funny. You swallow hard, hoping, praying he doesn’t do anything because you swear something might just break in you if he does.
“S-San, wait it’s too much-“
You’re barely holding it together, and it all falls apart when his palm lands an impact right on your ass, forcing another wave of orgasm to hit you even harder this time, a strained cry leaving your throat, your pussy completely pushing San’s cock out, your hips lifting off him as you squirt all over his thighs, San’s cum spurting out alongside the clear liquid. San watches the way your eyes are screwed shut, your tears trickling down your cheeks, the way your body violently shakes while he soothes you with his palm up and down your back, and he thinks he’s in love. 
As you descend from your high, San captures your lips with his, humming soft praises of taking him so well once he pulls away, letting you lie on his chest. 
“I guess you're my pretty cowgirl tonight ”, he teases, letting you hit his chest playfully. 
San’s arm snakes around your waist as the both of you slowly make your way to the front door, catching the gaze of the partygoers, and he leans in as the both of you walk, low enough to reach your ears,
“I’ll make good use of the bandana next time too, so tell me doll face, how close do you like your wrists to be?”
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