#Might have been breathing a little hard

[kazunarei]

(smiling proudly like Oil-shine)

He's learning~~!

watched maid dante intimacy rooms again. who let dante pick up dirty talk??

dante is always calling eiden out on his "shamelessness" but dude!! look at yourself!!

you're gripping eiden's tail!! YOU'VE GOT YOUR TAIL WRAPPED AROUND EIDEN'S LEG LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!!

[sapsolais]

.

[dutybcrne]

When Diluc gives his heart to someone and genuinely enters a relationship with them, that's it–that's it for him. There will never be any other that could hope to replace them, whether they leave him or they pass on.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[l48yr1nth]

Hi. Just wanted to say I really like your art. The way you use shapes is truly amazing and I love every art piece that comes up on my dash. :).

I AM. GOING. TO CRY.!

thank you and i love you and ur awesome and . i love you. :) :) :3

[prudencepaccard]

didn't get cast in ensemble. they did cast a girl at callbacks I literally taught the harmony to though. fucked up

[nezuscribe]

it's been three weeks since arranged!gojo, your husband, the man you're growing to care deeply for, told you he'd be back.

there was some dispute he needed to oversee with the eastern tribes, something about the land that one was fighting for, but he promised, promised, it wouldn't take over a week to settle.

now it's been nearly a month, and there has not been a single word from him.

your maids told you this was normal, but you didn't miss how they spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed nervously whenever the name gojo came up.

you can't sleep in his bed, the smell of him overtaking your senses and making you go insane. you go back to your old room, huffing as you turn around each night, not able to sleep. other times you'd pace the floors, picking at your nails until they bled, wondering about what could've happened, not able to shake off your last moments with him whenever you got to thinking too hard.

"i'll be back," he had murmured in your hair, cradling you close to his chest as he said his goodbyes. his strong arms caged you in, and you had no room to fight him off as you tried to nod.

"bring back some eastern sugar," you said, "i've heard it's good for pies," your words were muffled, trying to cheer up the mood. you heard him laugh, his chest rumbling a little bit, but there was a hint of anxiety laced in it.

"i'll miss you," gojo finally whispered, his men in the background shouting for the others to hurry up.

"i know," you mumbled, craning your head to look up at him, trying to crack a smile that just came out wobbly, "but i won't tell you i missed you till you come back."

he smiled, rolling his eyes as his thumb ran up and down your cheek.

"i promise i will."

well now it's four weeks later and you can't sleep at night, your past words haunting you, wondering if you should've just told him what he wanted to hear in case...

but a couple nights later, when you're sitting at your desk, looking out the window, you hear it.

the clacking of horse hoofs, their scattered neighs.

you almost think you've gone delirious from sleep deprivation, rubbing at your eyes as you stumble closer to the windowsill, squinting your eyes as you look in the dark.

but you see the distant torch, the way it's getting closer and closer to the estate.

you have no care for modesty, pulling a thin robe over your body as you run out of your door, nearly falling down the stairs as you skip every other one, your bare feet hitting the stone with such force that you nearly break it.

the maids and servants around you are bustling to get ready for their return, but you don't care, weaving your way through their bodies as you run out through the entrance. you can feel your feet getting scraped up by the rocks, the cold autumn wind biting at your barely clad skin, but you feel like you're not moving fast enough.

his horse is the first one you see, leading the group of tired and aching men. his black stallion is dark as the night itself, and you doubt he can see you.

but gojo does, and when his eyes find the shadow of your body from across the field he's abandoning formation, his feet kicking the side of the horse to make it go faster.

it's rushed, and the closer he gets the more you can see the damage on his body. the bandages around his arms, the ones that peek out from his tunic on his shoulder. his face is littered with scrapes and bruises, but his smile is blinding.

you run to meet him, watching as he mounts off of the animal, his strong arms throwing themselves around you are nearly crushing and almost makes you stumble backward if not for his support.

there's a heavy silence that follows, and you're glad that his men take the hint to go another way, knowing the dangers of leaving you two out alone on a field.

you can't breathe, your arms so tight around his neck that you're worried you might be choking him. the way he lifts you to get you closer to him would make your body heat up if not for the fact that you know he needs you to be almost one with him.

"i thought you died," you say bluntly, your words said wetly into his neck, your scattered tears wetting his skin.

"i know," gojo murmurs, feeling like he can finally breathe for the first time in a month.

he finds your lips in a messy kiss, biting at your plush skin as you moan, feeling like if he didn't have you near to him he'd probably die. he smells your lavender oil dotted on your neck, the lingering sweetness on your lips from something you probably baked to help with your stress.

his hands lift you up further by your hips, his strength, despite his injuries, still unbridled as you wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers weaving into his snow-white locks as you hear him mumble curses beneath you.

"i missed you," you say against his lips, his feverish kisses driving you to madness. the way you say it with a choked-out sob, your tears mixing with his own.

gojo whines, biting at your neck as he tries to hide his face away, the vulnerability that you bring out of him is something that even his enemies would probably gawk over.

"i promised i'd come back," his voice is nearly gone with the way he says it in between his sloppy kisses on your neck, tugging at the fabric that hides the bareness of your chest with his teeth.

you crane your head to look at him, hitting the back of his head gently with an angered look.

"three weeks late," you reprimand him, almost reveling in the stricken and kicked look he gives you with those eyes.

he goes to say something but stops, shuffling your weight onto one of his arms (he had the right to brag about his strength), and rummages around one of the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a bag as he waves it in front of your face.

you gasp, suddenly climbing off of him as you turn it around with your fingers. he pouts at the fact that you detached from him, trying to wrap his arms around your waist to haul you back up.

"is this...?" you look up at him, new tears sprouting in your eyes as you wail, almost dramatically as your head hits his chest with a thump, pulling him into another hug as you seem to sob louder from when you first saw him.

"you cry more over the sugar than me?" he mutters petulantly, his hand still cradling the back of your head as you just limply stand there.

"don't ever leave again." you bite out, pinching his back as he yelps, but still leaving a searing kiss on the side of your face.

"i won't...my lady," he whispers teasingly, and this time, his promise is undying. he'd be a stupid man if he ever willing left this again.

fuck those state affairs. gojo would rather be home with his wife, watching her bake as she scolds him for eating her batter.

[tonycries]

Match My Freak!

Synopsis. Trying out new kínks? Careful, he might just get addicted.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bondagé, creampíe, bréeding, cúmplay, exhíbitionism (Choso’s), oral (female + male), grínding, breathpIay (Nanami’s), Sukuna is BIG big, with tattoos there, overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. Hope y’all have a great week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Tied up (for now)

“You’re really serious about this, doll?”

And Toji can only look up when you’ve finished tying his wrists to the headboard with a dainty lil’ bow. Pulling back to admire your work, “Dead serious.”

Fuck, this wasn’t his usual scene. Why aren’t you the one that’s helplessly bound and spread so shamefully on the mattress? Why aren’t you the one with your pretty thighs quivering, hips arching up at his mercy? And why is he the one so turned on by it?

“Fine then.” Toji’s biting his lip as your puffy folds start dragging down, down, down his swollen cock so slowly. So utterly torturously. “Ya wan’ it hard or gentle when I fuck ya?”

You bristle at his absolutely smug tone, hissing out a low, “You mean when I fuck you?”

“Heh, jus’ kidding doll.” he chuckles, waiting until you’ve barely just let your guard down before flattening his feet on the bed. Abs rippling, biceps bulging as he leverages his hips up - right along with you. “I’m choosing.”

It’s all that’s said before he juts his cock up to give you one, sharp thrust. Feeling your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head as he expertly hits your syrupy sweet spot in one go. 

“You little-” All the breath goes out of your lungs as he repeats the motion. Making you whirl your head down, nails digging warningly into Toji’s abs when you spy the devilish smirk playing at his lips, the furrow in his brow that did not bode well for your poor cunt. “You’re ngh- all tied up, so why can’t you act that way?”

“Whaaat?” he drawls, fucking out whatever retort is on the tip of your tongue with another mean ram of his hips. “S’it that bad if I wanna hah- teach my girl how to do it properly?” This time keeping up a pace of quick, shallow jabs that have the mattress creaking, sweat beading at his focused brow, “C’mon now, if you’re gonna tie me down n’ fuck me then do it right, doll.”

It’s all you can do to spread your legs wider around his toned hips. Toji’s cock too massive, the stretch too much. Too good as his fat head hits at your every bundle of nerves each and every time.

“G-good good.” you hear him choke out. “Fix that posture now, arch some more, pretty- jus’ like that yeah-”

You’re wobbling precariously on top of Toji as he greedily scoots down the mattress further, eyeing how your snug cunt was sucking him up so obscenely. Sinking down until your swollen folds were just kissing his soaked balls. A disbelieving little laugh leaves as he watches the way your hips stutter down pathetically to take him in deeper and deeper.

“Oh? Quick learner, huh?” He’s tugging subconsciously on the restraints, “Alright then, doll, see if you can- take- this-”

And God, Toji has never been more thankful for those long hours at the gym. Because he’s bucking his hips up so wildly into your tight pussy, all the way until his tip was nudging your bruised cervix. Dragging against your gummy walls with nothing but the power of his hips and the feeling of you and your perfect cunt and you-

“C’mon now ah-” he groans at the way you’re squeezing him so tight. Angling his head to watch the way the fat of your ass bounces against his thighs, sweet sweet juices trickling all the way down to his twitching balls. “Faster. You can move those hips faster f’me, right?” And fuck, does he wish he could touch you right now. To toy with your pretty, forgotten clit. To move those hips of yours rougher down his cock. “Yeahhh, now spit. Jus’ like I do.”

“Hngh-” you gasp as he makes you spit right onto his awaiting tongue. Once. Twice. Some of it missing, hitting his plump lips. Walls squeezing so hard, stars behind your eyes as you take it so well. “Shit shit shit- too- much-.”

“Aww, what’s the matter? Can’t talk properly anymore?” Toji’s licking lewdly at his now-wet lips, grinning at your strangled moans, “Didn’t you say you were gonna f-fuck- be in charge this time, woman?”

You all but scream with that rough cadence at which Toji’s bouncing you on his cock. Bruising. Powerful thighs smacking against yours, blinking away the big, fat tears in your eyes, you moan, “You’re so mean, Toji.” 

And of course, Toji has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh. Letting out a mocking, “S-so mean, Toji.” 

“F-fuck you!”

At this, the only response you’re getting is him beckoning you closer with a slow nod of his head. And you barely even realize how you’re deliriously complying before he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. Humming out a ragged, “Who’s fucking who, doll?”

RIP!

He didn’t need an answer - and you didn’t either. Both of you knew, despite those pathetic restraints digging into his wrist - now laying tattered and useless on the floor. Two big arms pin your hips against his own. Ruthless. 

“Because I think I hafta teach you that lesson first of all.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “She's My Collar”

It’s around this time that you know your husband has stopped thinking about you. When you know he’s just past pussydrunk that all he can do is lap messy at your cunt, feeling well and fully intent on breaking you.

“Kento.” you whine brokenly around your third orgasm. Tugging on those sweaty strands of blond resting at their favorite position between your legs. Nanami’s hot tongue pooling your sweet sweet juices like he was addicted. “Ken- ngh-” He doesn’t hear, of course.

Your lips wobble, the overstimulation too much. His tongue too mean. Pushing past that feeble resistance, making you pull more forcefully on his hair now, “Ken.”

And fuck, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive. Because that focused little furrow of Nanami’s brow only deepens, letting out a deep groan as he wraps his glossy lips over your ravaged clit. Cheeks hollowing while he sucks like it was his favorite candy - and it probably was. 

“Ken!” you yelp, subconsciously gripping at that familiar yellow tie of his. Yanking - hard. “Ken- s’too much ngh-”

You manage to blink away those tears in your eyes as Nanami’s sloppy, depraved tongue finally stalls and shit, you didn’t know if this was better or worse. Because he was so pretty kneeling before your legs - eyes all glassy and half-lidded, neat hair uncharacteristically disarrayed, such a pretty pink blush all over his face as Nanami’s eyes flit down to the tie currently restricting his airflow. 

“Oh!” you hastily drop your white-knuckled grip on it, “I-I’m so sorry, Ken. Are you o-”

“Little freak.” And you watch, jaw sagging open, when he’s wrapping your shaky fingers back on the piece of fabric. Tongue darting out, so wet and glistening with your syrupy juices, “Tighter.”

You barely have time for anything else before he’s so happily diving back in. Nose deep in your puffy cunt, tongue lapping so teasingly at your sloppy entrance as he murmurs, “So? Not gonna use that again?”

You don’t know what to say - but to Nanami, that doesn’t matter. And he’s only having the time of his life trying to make you choke him with his tie. Smug smirk obvious against your swollen folds as he bites down lightly on your oversensitive clit. 

You’re bucking your hips up, “Fuck!” Pulling on that tie so tightly that he’s almost jerked away from your heavenly cunt. And, unfortunately for you, this seems to be the exact reaction that Nanami wanted. 

If you thought the tie would get you some semblance of mercy then you were wrong. So utterly fucking wrong. 

Because two hands of Nanami’s are just bruising on your hips, sure to leave neat little marks for him to kiss away later. Reeling himself back to your dripping wet core, “Hah, fuckin’ cute.” Thumbing open your puffy folds to admire the way your entrance is winking and glistening up at him. “So fuckin’ cute. Don’t think you can take this pretty pussy away from me, my love.”

“B-but Ken.” you’re giving him a playful squeeze. Drooling all over the fresh sheets, “Dunno if I can ngh- cum again…”

“Of course you will.”

He’s flashing you the most devilish side-grin as you tighten your hold on his tie, veins popping up along his neck with the strain to make out with your cute cunt once more. Making your knees so weak as he spits.  A steady, lewd stream of saliva right on your messy hole. Spying on how it drools down your slit, “M’gonna make sure of it.”

And fuck, if Nanami wasn’t a man of his word.

Making your head spin as his hot tongue bullies into your tight pussy, giving long, steady licks at all those sweet spots he’s mapped out. In and out. In and out - over and over.

But it wasn’t enough for him. 

“C’mon now,” Nanami smacks and groans his lips against yours, tilting his head back to look up at you from between your legs. “Pull on it. Use me.” When you can’t let out anything but delirious whines, the harsh feeling of his watch stings into your thigh. Deliciously cool as a long finger is circling around your clit, greedily eyeing how sloppily you were grinding up to meet his frenzied cadence. “Use me- fuck. Use me, my girl.”

“Like- hah fuck- this?”

The tie is now serving a different purpose - and you’re just dragging Nanami around like it’s some leash. Angling his pretty face just right to drag your sloppy cunt all over, nose nudging at your clit. Tongue poking and prodding your gummy walls. 

And he lets you. God, he lets you. 

“Yeah, use me- fuck jus’ like that, my love.” he spits into your cunt, letting his glasses fog up at the heady proximity. “Fuck- making such a mess all over. Hah-” 

“Oh my god- yes. Ken, feels too- good-” Dangerously good.

It was getting so hard to tonguefuck you exactly the way Nanami would like, too. Your slutty walls squeeze him too tight, hips stuttering wildly all over his nose. That tie around his neck only getting more snug, having his head feel so sinfully light. So drunk off the feeling. 

You’re gasping, pleading when Nanami fights against the pull of the tie, “F-fuck ohmygod m’so close- hah-”

But not as much as when you finally cum, sending thick, sweet gushes of your slick down Nanami’s chin. Stars behind your eyes, ankles locking so hard around your husbands broad shoulders. Just covering the lower half of his face - all the way until you could catch it dripping down his jawline, soiling his expensive tie. 

Yet, Nanami doesn’t mind. In fact, he enjoys it. Enjoys untying the restraint around his neck, leaving pretty red patterns. Swiftly putting it around your own neck, Tight. “Your turn.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Knots

“S’too hah- loose.”

It’s all that’s said before Geto Suguru is pulling on that messy ponytail his long locks have been haphazardly bunched up into. Plopping the dark little hair tie back into your twitching fingers, “Do it again.”

If you were in a better state of mind - you’d probably have snapped at him right now. Given him a piece of your mind, but oh it was so difficult to not listen to what your beloved boyfriend was saying - not when he had you folded in half beneath him in such a tight mating press, swollen cock so meanly ramming into you, spreading the obscene pool of cum forming below you.

And neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted by it - not one bit. 

“D-do you hah- do you have any idea how fuckin’ gorgeous you look right now, angel?” Geto’s ragged voice is grazing your ear, having you bucking sensitively into his hips. He takes your incoherent whine for an answer, “So why don’t you be a hngh- good girl f’me and tie my hair so I can see you better, hm?”

“B-but Sugu-” you’re sobbing, cunt flexing reflexively around his unforgiving cock. “You said that last time.”

Why would you still talk coherently? In Geto’s eyes, that was a failure. And he’s only giving you a sly grin, trailing a finger down to draw circles on your ravaged clit, “Oh, did I?” He did. “I must’ve ah- forgotten.” He didn’t. “Only once more, pretty, I promise.” He doesn’t.

“P-promise?”

“Promise.”

As if to prove his case, Geto’s gesturing for you to look down at where your poor, overfilled cunt was sucking him so good. Like you were trying to milk something delicious - like it wasn’t enough. Even though your folds were puffy and glistening with his cum, spilling all the way down to his twitching balls. 

He’s grunting at the sight of a thick, slow glob of cum running down your thigh. “So p-pretty, right?” Pulling you down across the soaked silky sheets to ram his hips harder. “So gorgeous? Y’know m’gonna keep this up until-”

Whatever sinful little threat - promise - dies in Geto’s throat as your shaky hands strain upwards to bunch the long curtain of his hair. 

Hips only stuttering ever-so-slightly at that heavenly feeling of your fingers raking his scalp. 

“Mhm, so f-fucking good when you listen.” he lets out a guttural groan, head dipping into the crook of your neck to help his poor girl. “Better hah- make this one be the one, angel - unless ya want me to fuck fuck fuck- fill up this pretty pussy again? And again? And again and again and-”

 And you knew - shit, you knew better than anyone how half-jokingly tying your boyfriend’s hair up in the middle of sex had led to this. 

So you’re giving him a delirious headshake, feeling like one more bout of Geto filling you up with his seed and you’ll fucking explode. Squealing through tears, “I-Ill tie it- Sugu, ngh-”

Mercifully, Geto lets you tug and angle his head all you want so that you can get to work on trying to fucking make it out alive. 

Meanwhile, he busies himself with trailing down on your bloated stomach, eyes widening in wonder as he reaches about halfway down. Five fingerpads pressing down so hard and-

Oh. Fuck. One more isn’t going to be enough.

“God- fuck, didn’t know this hah- tight pussy could even hold that much.” he breathes out. Eyes locked on that steady stream of white dribbling out of your stuffed hole, pushing and pulling with each thrust. Each mean, sloppy thrust. He groans, “Makes me wanna- ngh- give ya more.” Fat tip nudging at your cervix, sending you gripping so searingly onto his scalp. “So ya better hurry up, angel.”

And at this point, all you could do was let out wet whines, bracing yourself with two hands on Geto’s hair while you desperately buck up to try to meet his maddening tempo. Jagged, sloppy thrusts. Only getting meaner. Closer.

“I-I am!” you sob, only having made it past the first loop in Geto’s ponytail. “M’trying so hard, Sugu.”

“Then try harder.”

And, shit, did he grow bigger? Stretching out your gummy walls as much as they;d go. So fucking hard with the way you’re so full with his seed already. So fucking wild as he can’t manage to see that heavenly view without those dark locks falling into his face.

So fucking good and you can feel your release just dancing right in front of you, edging you with each drag of Geto’s veins down those sensitive spots in your cunt. With each twist of your fingers on his hair. Dipping a rough hand down to your poor clit and-

It’s all it takes for you to cum. So watered down and sensitive at this point, merely faint, distant tingles that have you smacking your hips up to meet Geto’s.

And he wasn’t too far behind, either.

Slamming you with one, two harsh thrusts that you think you feel right in your stomach before bestowing you with thin ropes of his seed. Vision hazy, stars behind his eyes with each twitch of his cock. But ah, did he have the perfect view to all this sin. 

Hair pulled back in the perfect ponytail to eye the way your greedy cunt happily milks his fucking soul dry. One he’s almost sad to untangle. 

Balls clenching dangerously at that adorably betrayed look on your face, Geto hums, twiddling with the hair tie around his finger, “Whoops. It came off~ Guess you have to tie it again, huh?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - DIY

You’d meant it as a joke, you really did. 

When your poor, needy boyfriend came up to you when you were in the middle of a work call with your coworker - eyes glassy, cock so rock-hard and leaking angrily all over his fist - you’d just told him to “get off to your panties.” Fully expecting a pouty Choso to tell you to end the call, maybe even sulk until you cheered him up.

What you did not expect was to be splayed out on your living room couch, Choso pressing up from behind. Your shorts pulled down just enough for him to drag his weeping cock all across those panties peeking.

Until they were so flimsy and drenched, until you were frantically hitting the mute button on your phone, looking over your trembling shoulders to whimper out a quiet, “Ch-Cho-”

“Shhh.” he whispers, hot breath hitting your ear. Sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to where he was sliding his swollen cock underneath your panties. Just gliding down your sopping wet cunt, “M’jus’ doing what you wanted, right? Jus’ ‘getting myself off’. You just keep going with your call, baby.”

Choso knew that contact name - that loser from your department that was too fucking close despite your relationship with him. The one that insisted on extra work calls, just a tad too touchy. A bit too starry-eyed.

And fuck, all it takes is one graze of Choso’s fat head against your puffy folds, feeling the way your sweet slick beads and rolls down his length - and he was in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, breathing out a ragged, “Oh, baby you feel so good.” Hips moving uncontrollably back and forth between them. Again. And again and again. “How do you feel so f-fucking good when m’not even inside you?”

“Sh-shit-” you wiggle your hips back, addicted to the feeling of his toned abs rubbing against your back. The scratch of those tufts of dark hair, the lewd thump! thump! thump! of his prominent veins against your cunt. “I wan’-”

“No.”

Shit, did you just get wetter? Choso makes a mental note to tease you for how much you loved this mean little tone of his later. But for now, he’s reaching over to the phone still limply in your hand. 

Deftly pressing the unmute button, he murmurs, low and dangerous. “Jus’ keep going with your call.”

You don’t even have the time to respond, because a confused voice sounds from the other end of the line. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah!” you wince when your voice cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Torn between moving your hips away and bucking down for more more more- “Perfectly- fine.”

“Oh, well, anyways about that upcoming project…”

“No no no no fuck- hold his pretty pussy still.” And Choso was only pulling your shy hips closer by those slutty panties of yours. Fist tightening around the excuse of fabric, fingers so bruising on you as he grinds his painfully hard cock deeper. “She’s so hah- wet, baby. Leave her with me.”

Trying to run away? Choso didn’t like that, not one bit, as he snakes a hand down to pinch your pulsing clit between his fingers. Rolling the sensitive nub in a way that has you letting out a gasp. A loud gasp. 

“What was that?”

You’re so desperately trying to hold back your loud, slutty moans as Choso toys with your pretty clit that you almost miss the question. You would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he grunt into your ear, “Answer, baby. S’r-rude to leave someone hanging.”

“Ah- I uh-” you mutter into the phone. Giving your boyfriend a warning sideglance, “S’just my…pet. He’s really needy right now.”

The word “pet” has barely escaped your glossy lips before Choso’s rutting into you harder. So debauched. So sloppy with the way his precum was dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess of your drooling cunt.

“Oh yeah, I have a pet too. A dog, always wantin’ to go out on walks and-”

Your slick just a glossy sheen down his fingers - all the way down his wrist - from where he was just abusing your ravaged clit. Giving a light flick! before groaning, “Yeah. Needy. F-fuck this ‘pet’ of yours is real needy.”

And then he’s ramping up his pace - grinding like he was possessed. Like he couldn’t give less of a shit if your coworker could hear the lewd squelches from down below. Your muffled moans as Choso draws messy lil’ patterns on your clit, simultaneously spreading your puffy folds to slide his cock faster between them.

Rougher. More desperate. Getting off to just the mere feeling of your panties digging into his hand as he pulls on them lazily, and your cunt clenching and trying to suck him up. 

In his feverish state, Choso’s angry, red tip just barely slips between your dripping slit and into your sloppy entrance. Having you keen, “Cho!”

And that’s all it takes for him to cum - thick, hot globs of cum to paint your pretty walls white. Pulling out to absolutely soak your panties with his seed, pooling between your legs - your stomach - where was still playing with your clit. Smearing it everywhere, like he was proving a point. 

The very same point that has him pulling your limp arm close enough so your phone was right at his ear.

“Hey, maybe you and I can walk our pets together. Then head out for a dinn-”

“I’m the ‘pet’, n’ she’s a bit occupied right now.” he grunts into the phone. Ignoring the flustered bursts of protests from your coworker, “Do it yourself.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - X marks the spot

“You can take it, right?”

You don’t even know what broken little response you’re blabbering out, and it didn’t matter either way. Because Sukuna is shoving his fat head into your sloppy hole - just barely. Not getting too far past that first little ring of resistance, after which, you’re letting out a sinful yelp. Which, of course, makes him immediately pull out completely and do it all over again. 

“Kuna- oh my god-” you gasp, legs trembling as you grip onto the bathroom sink at this dingy little party. “Not gonna- hngh- fit.”

And it’s true, you needed to breathe. To stretch, to maybe spread your legs more - anything and everything to make up for Sukuna’s massive cock and the pathetic preparation you’ve had.

But he’s only giving your ass a sharp smack! Letting out a dark chuckle when you squeal and scramble to claw at the cool tile. “N’ who was the one that hah- dragged me in here cuz she got too hot n’ bothered seeing some rando flirt with me?”

You’re batting your lashes behind at him so deceivingly innocently, “S’not m-my fault. She was trynna hngh- get your number right in front of me.”

“Right.” Smack! “S’this slutty pussy’s fault, huh? And I say this good girl can take me.” Sukuna’s bending his knees, angling his angry, weeping tip to smear his precum all over your gaping hole. He hums at how glistening wet you were for him, how nicely you were dribbling all the way down your thighs. “See? Be grateful I even wet this lil’ cunt for you. Now, lemme feel how tight you actually are, brat.” 

Oh God, maybe this is why Sukuna usually stretched you out - teased you for hours - before splitting you apart on his swollen cock. 

And he’ll never admit it, but just one, shallow grind into your cunt and the man feels like he could cum right then and there.

“H-holy shit-” he breathes, eyes widening in genuine surprise at the way your puffy folds were bulging around him. Not even quarter of a way in yet, yet big, fat tears were wetting your cheeks, “Damnn, girl- ngh- fuck. No one else could compare.”

He can’t stop himself - and you can’t either. The stretch too sinful. The nudge of Sukuna’s fat head against your sweet spots too good that you’re fucking yourself back into his throbbing cock. Inch by inch. So agonizingly slow. 

For once in his life, he’s awe-struck. Staying so teasingly still to watch the way your ass bounces back against his toned pelvis, trying to bully his too-big cock inside your gummy walls. 

“Shiiit- tightest lil’ thing I’ve ever fucked.” Barely even at the halfway mark before you start slowing down ever-so-slightly, “Awww, what happened to my lil’ show? We’re not even all done, yet.”

Fuck, he twitches wildly when you’re turning back with your dewy eyes and it feels like he’s pushing into your lungs. You whine, “I can’t, Kuna- won’t- s’too big!”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, “Not this again.” A large hand coming around your neck, fingernails sharp at your racing pulse as he tilts your head up. “Open that filthy mouth now.” Giving you a dangerous, sickly-sinful grin before spitting a steady stream of saliva. Wiping at the excess on your lower lip so gently, “Won’t have this mouth saying what my cunt can’t do, okay?”

And shit, he’s so big. So unforgiving. So ready to break you apart on his relentless cock. Feeling annoyed at that version of you who’d usually complain about all the stretching out your boyfriend would do.

“Jus’ a bit more-” he’s groaning. Hissing at the way his heavy balls are smacking against your ass. Starting to toy with your neglected clit, “Bit- fuck you take me so perfect- more-”

And it’s all you can do to let out wet, fucked-out groans as he finally moves with purpose. Not as rough as he wants, yet - just calculated, deep grinds just to fit inside. 

“She’s gonna take me ah- allll up.” He’s running his mouth against yours now, free hand dancing down to that bulge beginning to form at your stomach. “Gonna feel myself in here, right? Take m-me until-” Just devouring the sight of your folds struggling and swollen around his thick cock - now, not too far from that ring of ink around his soaked base. “-til I can’t see this tattoo anymore, right?”

You’re jolting, “Oh- please!”

“Please what?”

The fat of your ass almost pressing against his sculpted abs, big arms keeping you so close. “Please jus’ stuff me full, Kuna.”

Fuck, do you even know what you’re saying? He doesn’t know - he doesn’t care either. 

Because in one, fluid motion, Sukuna is pinning your arms back with one of his, using the leverage to bury himself so deep. All the way until your pretty pussy was sucking up that tattoo at his hilt. heavy balls smacking your clit, your slick slobbering all down his thighs - his abs - everywhere.

“X marks the spot, huh.” he huffs, words strained. Reeling back, back, back - just dragging his massive cock along your walls. Slamming back so mean until you’re pushed further up the counter, until he can’t see his tattoo anymore. “Now…lemme show you why you shouldn’t be jealous of any trash, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Splash zone!

It’s everywhere. Dripping from your burning cheeks to glossing over your swollen lips, dripping all the way down to your blue lingerie. Gojo’s cum was everywhere.

But he doesn’t seem like he’s had enough with the way he’s slapping his angry, spasming head by your cheek. Smearing whatever’s left of his Earth-shattering orgasm, “Yeahhhh, fuck- you’re so sexy.” he groans. Breathing as ragged as his words, “Now, open that f-fucking mouth f’me, sweetheart.”

It’s like on auto-pilot when you do - looking right in Gojo’s crazed, half-lidded eyes when your tongue lolls out. All creamy and filthy with his cum, dribbling down to the hardwood floor in a lewd drip! drip! drip! 

“Now now.” You feel a sudden spike of- fear? Anticipation? At Gojo’s tone, dropping to a low hum as he smacks his thighs in a gesture that tells you to come and sit. “Who said you could waste my cum?”

Fuck, you should’ve known better. Should’ve known better than to listen to his goading request. Should’ve known better than to sit yourself down so prettily on his thick thighs. Mewling a little, “But, Toru- You told me to-”

“Did I?” he muses, running a thumb along your bottom lip. Pooling his cum on his fingerpad, “Must’ve been my mistake.”

With a low, guttural growl, Gojo’s then kissing you. No care or concern for the taste of himself on your tongue - running solely on the taste of you and your cunt and you-

“O-oh, Toru.” you gasp away from the sloppy kiss when your boyfriend starts circling your swollen, needy cunt with his dripping wet fingers. Neat fingernails just grazing down your silky slit. “Shit- please.”

He bites down your neck, breath hot and feverish. “Use your words properly, sweetheart.”

Right now all you could do was buck your hips down his long, long fingers, trying so desperately to guide them towards where you needed them the most. Moaning out a shaky, “P-please. Wan’ your fingers so deep inside.” once you finally give up taking things into your own hands.

And, well. Maybe you’re an idiot - maybe you’re a mastermind.

Because you get exactly what you want, Gojo’s fingers bullying their way to roam your gummy walls. Fingertips kissing and prodding at each and every familiar little spot he knew would have you all crying and breathless on his lap. 

The only catch is the teasing. Fuck, the teasing.

“Oh. F-fuck- jus’ look at her.” he growls. “That cunt of yours is such a hah- good girl. How come you’ve got such a naughty mouth, then?”

He doesn’t expect you to respond - and you don’t think you can. Not with the way Gojo doesn’t even bother to fucking ease you into it, immediately thrusting his fingers in and out of your sloppy entrance with reckless abandon. So mean. So dangerously calculated with each time he’s pressing your g-spot. 

Hard. Sloppy. 

The squelches so obscene that it made your face burn. Gojo’s muscled thighs bouncing ever-so-slightly to make you fuck yourself back like such a slut. 

“Yeah? Ya like that, huh?” he chuckles when you’re scrambling to grab at his hair, his shoulders, his biceps - anything and everything to keep your sanity intact. “S’only payback.”

You raise your unfocused eyes up at Gojo, whimpering out a teary, “Wh-what?”

“I’m just-” The smug bastard he is, he quirks his index just right to abuse your magical spot. Hard. “-saying. If you wasted my cum, well, m’gonna have to hah- get back somehow, right?”

It’s all that’s said before Gojo’s speeding up his movements. All but dragging his fingers across your heavenly walls, so so sloppy with the way you’re slobbering all the way down to his wrists. In and out in and out in and-

“Hey now, the fuck do you hah- think you’re doing?” You’re snapped out of your lustful little reverie, and so is the hand snaking down to play with your pulsing clit. Not a moment wasted before Gojo is using the same hand that was currently fingerfucking you stupid to thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “This pussy belongs to me n’ I’m in fuck- charge of how you cum, mmkay?”

You’re giving him a delirious nod - but that wasn’t enough. 

And soon enough two fingers are being shoved between your kiss-bitten lips. Gojo’s free hand pressing right at the back of your throat as he wiggles his fingers enough to imitate you nodding. “Yeah, thought so.”

Fuck, it makes you so embarrased. It makes an obscene mix of cum and saliva drool down the corner of your mouth, coating Gojo’s palm. It makes your snug cunt clench too tight around the fingers having their way with you. So hard that you wondered how the hell his wrist wasn’t cramping up. 

It makes you cum. Hard. Violent. 

Until your vision is spotty, nothing but broken moans muffled from your lips. Squirting all over Gojo’s fingers like he’s infuriatingly wanted so badly. Your poor pussy just gushing, a sickly sweet sheen of your slick coating everything from his wrist, to his thighs, to the overpriced sheets that had just been laid out. 

Even messier than Gojo had been.

Until your boyfriend is groaning from above, awe-struck, “Hey, sweetheart, I think you squirted more than me so maybe we should try to even out the-”

“Satoru!”

A/N. Think I’m ovulating rn, who’s gonna match my freak HM?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the Wife at First Sight series)

In Ghost’s eyes, the first time you smiled up at him was the moment you became his and his alone.

So what if everyone apart from you knew it?

Didn’t make it any less of a fact, as far as he was concerned.

Still though, he wanted to learn more about just who his pretty little wife was, including anything that might make letting you know about your marriage a little easier. And so like the good soldier he is, he goes about it as though it were a reconnaissance mission.

He asks you how you take your coffees and teas, holding his breath as he watches you take the first sip of whichever drink he’s made you that day, pride swelling in his chest when you tell him it’s perfect, even better than when you make it.

The first time he’d done so, your eyes widened in surprise when he put his large, gloved hands over yours where they were wrapped around the mug, leaning forward and bringing the rim to his lips where he took a sip for himself, eyes locked with yours. You were unsure of what to think or say, but he apparently decided for you that this was okay, returning the warm drink to your mouth where he encouraged you to take another sip.

You figured that it was alright, he did make the tea for you after all, right?

You even laughed when he started only serving you in a mug with ‘Mrs.’ printed across the side, certain that it hadn’t been in any of the common room’s cupboards before.

He eyes the book peeking out of your bag one morning as you tuck it away, purchasing his own copy the very same day, curious to know what you like reading. You’re pleasantly surprised, if not a tad confused, when you find the next two books in the trilogy sat atop your desk soon after, a small note written in chicken scratch lain on top reads ‘To : Wife’. He’ll make a point of commenting on the novel if he sees you holding it, slipping in tid bits of information to impress you show he’s read it as well, likes the same things you like.

He’ll joke about how the food on the dining hall is always subpar, trying to casually find out what you like eating, subtly pulling out his phone and typing anything new into his notes app where he’s been keeping track of all your likes and dislikes. He just wants to get things right with you, be good for you, prove he can be the husband you need. You’re already perfect in his eyes, his sweet little soulmate who just doesn’t know it yet.

Though this was the first military base you’d ever worked on, you couldn’t recall anyone having ever warned you about the way Lieutenants apparently like to haze the new hires, never mind the fact that everyone else was apparently in on it.

No one bats an eye when you go to take the empty seat next to him in a briefing, and he wraps his strong arms around you to instead plop you down onto his muscular thighs, carrying on with the task at hand as though this is perfectly normal and professional. Even the Captain hardly glances at the interaction, so you figure it’s okay, some strange form of team bonding?

Not a soul comments on the way the Lieutenant insists on being the one to cut up your food and feed you bites during meals in the dining hall, pretending as though they don’t hear him telling you about how “my wife works hard enough, don’t need to be liftin’ a finger wit’ me around, love.”

They know to move out of the way if you’re approaching a closed door, knowing if the Lieutenant is anywhere near, he’ll be rushing to open the door for you before you can even attempt to do it yourself.

Even Soap has stopped complaining aloud and only rolls his eyes when Ghost drops anything and everything he’s doing- whether it’s spotting the Sergeant in the gym, being out on a morning run, hell even being in the middle of a shower- to send you a good morning text at six o clock on the dot. Every. Single. Morning.

No, you never exactly anticipated this sort of a running gag from a hardened military base, but you’re not exactly complaining either.

Not when you find your heart fluttering every time your fake work husband dotes on you like he really would marry you at the drop of a hat.

Besides, it’s all just playful, innocent fun, right?

Especially when everyone begins to apparently forget your name and instead refers to you only as Mrs Riley.

And when the Captain tells you that your requested time off for a honeymoon has been approved, something which you definitely don’t remember requesting, well that’s all just fun too, right?

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

cod masterlist

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑳𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆

──  mdni sexual content. l&ds boys' reaction to arriving home with you asleep in lacy lingerie. inclusive of: somnophilia (consensual), kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m), cum shot, vaginal sex (unprotected), slight pet name usage, praise, cursing.

⁺₊ / an: AAAAAAA this req was SO FUN i adore somno just as much as you anonie 🙌

caleb would have been very, very pleasantly surprised. to come home to see you asleep on your bed, curled up peacefully as you hugged a pillow? god, he'd think you look absolutely beautiful. he'd notice you wearing the lingerie in his favorite color, and it would already be enough to get him aroused. knowing you'd left a consensual note was enough for him, and then he'd have gently shifted you to lay on your back, his breath hitching as he ran his hands over your smooth skin.

"so pretty," he'd mumble; "so beautiful."

he'd intend to take his time with you, determined to keep you sleep and prolong your blissful peace just a while longer. he'd slowly trail his hands over the lace on your breast, over your cunt—and then your bra would be unclasped, and caleb would slowly, slowly, carefully pull down the waistband of the lacy thong you were wearing. and then his mouth would be on yours, a soft, slow kiss, and then his lips would trail down to your neck, leaving a mark of proof that he would be, just as you'd asked, using you for the night.

slowly, slowly, he'd trail downwards until his tongue reached out to flick at your nipple, soft, gentle swirls as his eyes carefully took note of your body's reactions. you would flinch, sometimes, maybe stir a little, but you wouldn't wake up. and caleb wanted to see how far he could push you.

he'd smile, playing with your tits, and then he'd go lower. and lower.

and his lips would find the wetness of your cunt.

still slow, gentle licks as he'd lap up your arousal, clearly pleased that his attention to your breasts had gotten you so wet for him despite you still being so fast asleep. he'd thrust his tongue inside, enjoying the slight movements of your hips to his ministrations, almost as if his actions had spurred on a dream of your own. and then when he'd finally suck on your clit, you'd gasp and open your eyes, immediately finding your fingers in his hair as the drowsiness in your eyes fade away.

he'd pull back with a grin. "shhh, 's alright, pipsqueak. i'm just gonna have a little more fun with you, yeah? go back to sleep for me?"

rafayel would get aroused at the mere sight of you—so much so that he'd almost be tempted to take a picture. because how could he not? you looked absolutely ravishing, all splayed out on the bed for him, the lace on your body leaving little to imagination as your bare skin was so exposed to him, so... ready.

the note you'd left on the nightstand only made him smirk, but he didn't want to ruin the image in front of him so soon by rushing to use you like the note had asked him to.

instead, he slowly crawled over the mattress to kiss you, and kiss you, smiling at the way your breath would shorten slightlt, and the way your lips would part, as if readily accepting his desire even as your eyes remained peacefully closed. and by the time he pulled back, your mouth was glistening with saliva, almost swollen from all the kisses he'd used it for.

but rafayel wouldn't remove your lingerie, not just yet.

he'd pull his pants down and take out his cock, already hard, already leaking with pre-cum. and he'd start pumping. soft, slow strokes at first, easing him into the pleasure of it as he'd lean back, eyes raking over your body as he stroked his length, his cheeks quickly becoming rosy at the stimulation he was giving himself. and then he'd move faster. his hips would buck into his hand, and soft, quiet groans would fall from his lips. he'd do his best to suppress them, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise that might wake you up—

and then when he releases, his cum would splatter all over your body, ropes of white falling all over your lace as he'd lean back, breathless.

his lips would tug into a smile as you shift slightly in your sleep, his gaze turning into one of pride and admiration both.

his little masterpiece.

"oh, princess... i'm not finished with you yet."

xavier would have jumped in surprise at the sight of you, nearly having to grab the doorframe for support. he knew you'd be here—though he had seen your messages late (and he felt incredibly guilty for it), he knew you'd texted that you would be waiting at his apartment. but he wouldn't have expected this. you, all dolled up for him, wearing such revealing lace lingerie, only covered slightly by a flimsy, see-through nightdress. his eyes would slowly scan over your figure as he'd let out a shaky breath, and then he'd immediately notice the note on his nightstand, all prettily dressed up in the same shade of ribbon that held your little nightgown in place.

and perhaps, that would be it for him—his uniform would be off in seconds, his hands moving to slip off the delicate fabric and push the lace of your thong to the side.

"fuck," he'd curse under his breath, because even you couldn't know just how aroused and needy you would never fail to make him.

and needy, he would be.

though he would try to be as quiet and gentle as he could be—not particularly wanting to wake you up—his movements would be quick and shaky, a clear struggle of holding himself back. within seconds, his mouth would be on your cunt, drinking up the wetness that spread so quickly, having you wet and ready for him so easily. he would lap at your juices, eyes closed, enjoying your taste, and then he'd never be able to make himself wait any longer.

he'd steal a glance at your face as he'd slowly push himself inside you, soft whimpers falling from his lips, as your body twitched slightly. and he'd think to himself with a smile that his actions had probably spurred on a dream, but there would be very little self control left in his body. his thrusts would gradually get faster, deeper, until he was no longer trying to be gentle—he'd fuck you awake, his cheeks flushed, his mouth open in quick, short pants.

"m-mmh... ah-" he'd moan as your eyes open wide, hips bucking into yours in a desperate pace.. "g- g'morning, angel..."

zayne often arrived home late.

you knew this, and now, using you in your sleep had now become a common, long-established, consensual act. on days where he had long night shifts, you simply always expected something to be in store for you the coming evening... and this time, you decided to play things up a little and dress all prettily for him.

and zayne would have been nothing less than pleased at the sight of you when he returned home.

his lips would curl up into a small, satisfied smile at your sleeping figure. you looked so innocent, and so pretty, in your pastel floral lace set—just the way he liked to see you, and just enough to get him all aroused. and you had always given him explicit permission to do as he wished even while you were asleep, so he would make use of that.

his would take his time undressing himself, hanging his coat up neatly in his closet, his steps towards the bed slow and careful, not at all wanting to wake you. and then he'd start with gentle caresses. he'd loom over your body, placing soft kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, your shoulders... and then he'd lean up, whispering soft nothings into your ear, despite knowing the fact that you were too deep in your sleep to hear him.

zayne never rushed things; he'd take his time. trailing his fingers over your lace, your breasts, before dipping down to palm the wetness of your cunt seeping out from your thong. "always so wet," he'd whisper to himself, wondering if through all the times he had done things like this to you, your body had developed an automatic response to his nightly presence.

and then his fingers would be inside you, pumping, thrusting, so gentle and so nicely, almost comforting enough to lull you deeper into your sleep, harder to wake you up when he'd claim you fully. his movements were always precise, and this moment would not make it any less—determined to stretch you out and prepare you for him, determined to ensure that even your sleeping figure would enjoy every moment of the pleasure he would give you.

so when he'd push his cock into you, it's easy, and it's natural—and it's perfect.

zayne would fuck you all the way, so slow and sensual in his movements, that you wouldn't awaken from your sleep at all. you would only ever stir, and breathe out soft moans of his name, almost as if somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew what he was doing to you, probably enough to spin lewd dreams inside your mind that he would love more than anything to pry out of you in the morning.

"good girl," he'd coo into your ear. "good girl, taking me like this in your sleep."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

love is real 💕

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[ddejavvu]

this is depraved, but grinding on logan’s happy trail to get off 🫢

Hands Free - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni, mean!logan, drinking, don't like don't read.

You've caught Logan at a bad time. The surly mutant is a complicated man, and one with less psychological damage than him might be eager to whip it out whenever, but Logan isn't. He's busy brooding, and he's not to be interrupted when he's got a bottle in one hand and a cigar in the other.

But you need him. There's a pit in your belly that's only made worse by the scowl on his face, and your cunt aches beneath your now-slick panties for something to envelop. You're desperate for Logan to fuck you, but there's no way you'll convince him if he's not in the mood.

"I can feel you staring," He grumbles, eyes still cast to the floor as he takes another swig of burning liquor, "What do you want?"

There's no polite way to say you.

"Uhm," You shift on your feet, thighs clenched, "I'm just feeling- I'm a little, um, I-"

"Spit it out."

"I need you." You breathe, ashamed by the sentence, but Logan's face remains untouched, nothing moving but the lingering smoke from his smoldering cigar.

"I'm not in the mood." He grunts, like it isn't obvious.

"I- I know." You fall awkwardly silent again, rising onto your tiptoes and falling back to your heels. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up-

"Don't make a mess." He shifts in the chair, lowering his hips until they're level with his abdomen, offering you the best seat in the house.

He's shirtless, which means that if you can't have his cock, or his fingers, you can get the next best thing. A combination of the friction from the waistband of his jeans, and his toned abs, blanketed with coarse, wiry hair.

You mount him eagerly, which isn't hard to do seeing as his chair has no arms. It's got a back so that he can lean against it, but your support system is his chest, where you firmly plant your hands in preparation to get yourself off.

There's a dark line of hair that trails from the bottom of his navel and disappears beneath his waistband, flanked on either side with a sharp line of muscle that tapers down towards his cock in a V. His body is a work of art, and you only wish his equally gorgeous face was pointed your direction.

No matter- you won't push. You're lucky he's letting you get off on his lap, you'll take what you can get.

"Easy," He grumbles, rocked by the sudden jerk of your hips. As you settle into a steady rhythm you realize you've already failed his one directive of not making a mess, but there's no way to stop or slow the steady stream of slick that's pouring from your weeping cunt. It's sobbing, slobbering, begging for a cock, but you drag it flush against Logan's abs and mat his happy trail down with your translucent arousal.

"One fuckin' job," He gripes, reaching down to swipe two fingers through the slick that's glistening on his stomach as you find better friction near the waistband of his jeans. The texture of the denim is rough, and you realize with giddy desperation that he's getting hard in his pants despite his insistence that he wasn't in the mood.

He sticks his fingers in his mouth for a taste, his cigar left behind in its ashtray on the side table. He doesn't relinquish the bottle, but he takes equal sips of that and of the mess you're making on his abs.

Finally, thanks to the sizeable bulge in Logan's jeans, you're able to hump your way to completion on his stomach. It's not hard, considering you'd been achingly horny before, but without something inside of you your release feels empty and wasted. You'd use your fingers if you could, but you can't move your hands or you'd faceplant on Logan's chest, and you don't want to invade his space any further in case he decides your privileges have been revoked.

"Poor thing." He murmurs when your hips slow and you're panting against his chest. You glance at his face but he's staring at your cunt, not at you, "She's so hungry."

It takes him one, two, three seconds to reach for his belt, "Well, c'mon. Up now, there y'go." As you shimmy up his abdomen, slicking his happy trail up with your release once more. As soon as he's able to free his cock he slides a hand under your ass, boosting you up so that you're finally able to sink down onto his red-tipped, leaking cock.

"Jesus, she's sucking me in," He grunts, his voice gruff and ragged, "How long were you waiting to ask me?"

"Too long." You whine, pussy already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now in utter bliss from finally being penetrated after all that teasing, "I- hnngh! My toys don't work anymore. They're- they're nothing like you, I can't use them. I can't ever finish."

Logan scoffs, still in a mood as sour as the liquor on his breath, but his hands find their place on your waist as he helps bounce you on his cock, "Shame. Those were supposed to keep you busy. Guess I'll have to do it then, hm?"

You nod vigorously against the crook of Logan's neck, your nose buried where his neck meets his shoulder, and where sweat accumulates sticky on his skin. You lick it up, and Logan hisses against the mouth of his bottle as he takes another swig.

"Fine." He grumbles, butting the bottle up to your head and forcing it against your lips, "Take this, take a nice big- there you go. That'll make you sleepy," He vows, and the head rush comes just like he'd warned. His hips begin shifting, circling slightly in gyrations that only add to the pleasure of bouncing on his dick, "And this'll knock you out, crazy."

[tarrynightss]

what happens when sukuna’s precious little jewel actually does get pregnant ???

I’m so glad you asked Anon hehe

Concubine!reader x Sukuna thoughts part 1 here

Tags; Pregnancy, Concubine!fem!Reader, smut below cut, breeding kink, size difference, bit of lactation kink

Sukuna is not surprised when it happens after all the hard work you both put into realizing his dream. He notices a subtle change in your smell, in the energy that pulsates around you when he caresses his hand over your body. A wide grin splits on his face as he lays his hand over your lower stomach, his chest sturdy against your back. He can’t help but nuzzle his face against the side of your head, inhaling more of your intoxicating smell. “It took.”. Those simple words have your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest, looking back at him to ensure you understood correctly. “You’re with child.”

He’s overjoyed with the prospect of having a baby, an heir of his own. He’s more affectionate than he ever was, taking time to settle you close against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the growing bump on your stomach. He even caresses your hair and kisses you in an attempt to comfort you when you feel pain, all of it shockingly gentle for Sukuna. In his mind there’s a simple explanation. You did as he wanted, and you continue to do your duty well, ensuring his child is safe and growing strong inside you even when it hurts you, so you should be rewarded for it.

Sukuna has always been wary of others, but with the pregnancy he turns outright paranoid. With the amount of enemies he has he worries that one might now lash out and target you and your baby. He focuses more on maintaining barriers around the house, has someone sample your food in front of him before it’s allowed to be served to you, and you never sleep alone anymore, him always curled protectively against your side. He also decides to dismiss a large portion of his harem, not trusting them to have your best interest in mind. He knows how jealous humans can get, had seen women scratch each others eyes out just to get ahead of the other, and so the only other concubines allowed to stay are the ones you claim are your friends. He still keeps a careful eye on them, only truly allowing it because he knows that when the time comes, you will need women to aid you through it, and he doesn’t trust random midwives more than he trusts them.

Sukuna will spoil you more than ever, making sure you are comfortable in whatever way he can offer. The pregnancy is clearly taking a toll on you, your stomach having grown large and heavy, and he almost worries the size difference between you that excited him so might become the death of you. He carries you basically everywhere the last two months, wrapping you up in his strong arms and doing anything you need of him. It’s quite ironic; you used to be the one helping him get dressed, fawning over your master, and now he does the opposite for you. Though you know it’s out of necessity, it still makes your heart flutter.

That Sukuna is stressed out when you finally give birth is putting it lightly. He waits outside as customary, trying to appear stoic but panicking on the inside at your pained screams. As soon as he hears a baby cry, he barges in, watching as another concubine places the child against your bare chest. He quickly finds himself on his knees beside you, brushing one large hand over your sweaty forehead to comfort you as the other joins you in holding your baby. It’s a daughter, but she’s healthy and strong, screaming her lungs out for a minute more before calming down. You laugh, and he breathes in deeply, knowing you both made it. Relieve makes him bend forward and press a kiss to your forehead, leaning back just in time to see the child’s eyes open. Four in total, just like her father, but with the scarlet stare replaced by the lovely color of your eyes.

It surprises everyone, including you, how much of an involved father he is, holding his baby as often as he can, a large finger prodding at her pouty lips till she smiles and coos. When you apologize to him for not giving him a son, he stares at you blankly, gesturing for you to rise from where you kneel before him, putting one hand on your cheek as two others still cradle your baby. “I don’t need your apology. The child is healthy, and you will give me a son next time.” The surprise is evident on your face as your eyes snap to his. Not only is he being benevolent, but he also just said he wants another child with you. You were afraid he would discard you like a broken toy after this, no longer interesting enough to him, but it seems you still manage to hold your position as his favorite, bringing a smile to your face.

It has to be said that Sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you from the moment that tiny bump appears on your stomach. There’s something about it, about you, that makes every fiber of his being crave touching you. Maybe it’s that famous pregnancy glow, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows he’s the one who fucked a baby into you. You’re his, more clearly now than ever, and it excites him beyond his own comprehension.

Luckily for Sukuna, the hormones coursing through your body have you seeking him out desperately throughout most of your pregnancy. The first few months he fucks you like he wants to ruin you, rutting into you like an addict, but as soon as you really start showing he becomes more gentle. He wouldn’t risk seriously hurting you or his child, often seating you in his lap as he thrusts into you, his mouth lapping at your sweet neck. You still mewl so sweetly for him, so eagerly, and he already knows he might want to do this all over again after you’ve given him his first child.

Sukuna takes such good care of his little jewel, even massaging your poor sore breasts, teasing your aching nipples with his tongue. The changes to your body have him drooling all over you, his hands constantly on your growing breasts or belly. It becomes a guilty pleasure of his to touch you there, enjoying just having you on his lap as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, loving the way you squirm against him.

You find some of the changes quite embarrassing, especially when your breasts start leaking milk as you enter your third trimester. He only grins wolfishly when he notices the wet patches on the fabric covering your breasts, tutting as he pulls you to his chambers. “You need to relieve the pressure, little one.” And of course your benevolent master knows just how to do it, massaging your breasts till more drops come out, making sure he’s right there to help you through it all. This definitely gets far worse after you’ve given birth and your milk fully comes in, aching painfully to be released, Sukuna hot on your heels after ensuring your baby is fed to ‘help’ you.