#My legs are always spread for this man (⸝⸝^﹏^⸝⸝)

[yoitsjay]

batboys and brat taming reader who is their best friend(whom they treat like a sugar baby) 👀

The wording confused me a little bit but I think I got it-

I'll take care of you.

Summary: your a brat, a best friend, and a pampered little whore. What else could you want?

Warnings: alluding to smut but none written, spoiling you rotten

Bruce Wayne:

You had known ol’ Brucie a long time. You liked to think of your friendship with him as quite stereotypical. A rich kid who befriends the poor, lowlife kid of a criminal who somehow managed to go to Gotham Academy.

Ever since you were children Bruce always took care of you, he supported you in whatever career path you chose, and when things didn't work out, you could always fall back on him and he would deal with it all. He'd offer multiple times for you to come live at the manor with him but you refused every time. (the bratty part of you just wanted to rile him up and see when he'd snap)

As you two got older, your friendship never wavered, in fact it only got stronger… and that's when the benefits really attached itself to the friends label. Bruce began refusing no for an answer, especially after a really rough run in with one of your abusive exes. He dragged your ass to the manor and set you up with a room, he started paying off any debts you owed, and he got you anything and everything you could ever want.

Yet you were still a brat… he could handle it though, because in the end he knew that your loyalty was his, and he would never betray that trust. He never wanted to lose you.

Dick Grayson:

Whether you were a family friend, or some stranger he saved / met on the street, you and Dick had become really close friends in such a short amount of time. You were both bratty in a way, and each had your fair share of breakups that you could complain about to each other.

You and Dick had a routine where you'd get together after each breakup, either at his house or at yours. You would show up with ice cream, snacks and other things.

and by the end of the night he'd have his cock shoved up your cunt, or your mouth and you both let out your frustrations.

Dick also spoiled the shit out of you. He paid your bills, and was more than happy to do so, he also bought you whatever you wanted, similar to Bruce, and you didn't even have to ask for half the things that he gifted you.

You didnt concider yourself a sugar baby, not until your friends were gossiping about Dick, and told you that he either wanted you to be his girlfriend, or he wanted to keep fucking you, so he spoiled you to gain favor.

either way you shrugged. “And in the end my bills are paid, i have no debt, and i'm happy and have an awesome friend. Sugar baby, girlfriend, I'm taken care of either way.” You told them, and they just laughed and carried on.

In terms of brattiness, he's the brat, always whining, clawing at you for attention, you gotta put that boy on a leash just to get a break, though you found a way to get him to do what you want…

just a spread of the legs.

Jason Todd:

He has no time for brats, he's a busy man, and he could easily have anyone else to have fun with, but he wanted you, wanted to hang out with you. You were Jason’s friend for who knows how long, so he learned how to deal with your attitude long ago.

Food, most of the time, more often than not, something shoved in your mouth… like his fingers… or his cock.

Just something to suck on, that's all you needed to be satisfied.

Though, he always goes out of his way to make you feel good too, maybe he doesn't spoil you with material items, i feel like Jason is a bit more sentimental, so instead he takes you out to nice restaurants, amusement parks, rage rooms lazer tag- anything and anywhere as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He has no need for a girlfriend either, because he has you, his best friend that he gets to fuck- whats better than that.

Tim Drake:

You're his assistant at Wayne Enterprises, you had been working under him for the past couple of years, since you were about 16 and started your internship there. You both went to the Academy too, so it was easy for you and Tim to fall into a routine together. He'd come to your place and pick you up every morning, you'd get coffee then go to school on the weekdays, then when you worked on the weekends he would come pick you up again, and instead you'd go to work.

You were and are the best damn assistant he's ever had, you had a fiery spirit and didn't let anyone talk down to you, you made people see you as an equal, always. Even Bruce appreciated the way you stood up for yourself and those around you.

You were also attentive to all of Tim’s needs. Yeah that's what an assistant did, but you did way more. And because of the things you did, he would give you constant pay raises, or bonuses for your hard work… Then he started picking up little nick nacks that he knew you liked, he started paying attention to your coffee order, and he'd go buy you coffee.

Best part was, you didn't even notice that he was spoiling you, but your coworkers sure did, and they started the gossip train about you being Tim’s sugar baby.

When it finally reached yours and Tim’s ears, you kind of gave each other a look from across the office.

And then you fell into another rhythm… every day at 2 o’clock during his facetime meeting, you'd be under his desk…

if you could make him break, he’d give you his black card.

This was an arrangement you could get behind.

Damian Wayne:

For some reason you caught his eye. Don't worry, it baffled him too. He didn't understand why he found you so exhilarating.

He hated it.

He talked to you, but he'd degrade you,make fun of you, every chance he got, but he'd always use it as an excuse to get close to you.

When it was time for the senior dance, he found out that you had a few guys asking for you to be their date.

He didn't like that.

One day in the hallway, he walked up to you and he practically shoved you into the lockers. “your going to be my date to senior prom.” He demanded.

You stared at him, an unimpressed look across your face. He stammered. “I- i mean…will- will you go to senior prom with me?” he corrected his sentence-

corrected his sentence! what have you done to him?? This cold, bratty batboy, the richest kid in gotham- and he was groveling at your feet from just one look on your face.

You've reduced him to- to… a simp.

Blasphemy.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW: @ilaiise

DG: @ilaiise

JT: @ilaiise

TD: @ilaiise

DW: @ilaiise

[st4rrybl4de]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* this is nasty. i apologize in advance, butttt in honor of booking my back dermal appointment . . let’s discuss my favorite man, connie springer. connie mighttttt be a lil sick, the way you’re squirming uncomfortably as he pierces your pretty little clit excites him more than it should. minors don’t interact, or i’ll get you.

vile.

you've always had a fear of needles, which is quite amusing given that your boyfriend owns a tattoo parlor. he managed to persuade you to get your first tattoo, and then you took the plunge with your first piercing—your nipples, ouch! the thrill was exhilarating, and after that, you couldn't help but give him those irresistible doe eyes, begging for more. naturally, your charming boyfriend was on board, but he certainly had his own agenda. that agenda being you.

connie’s focus is entirely on you. he’s painfully aware of the way his dick jumps at the way your body arches in response to the cool latex gloves pressing against the delicate skin of your clit. each time he inadvertently brushes your sensitive bud you wanna whine. sigh. legs quivering as they open wider, granting him unobstructed access to your glistening folds. "are you nervous, ma?" you shake your head in denial, though it’s clear you are; entire body trembling like a leaf in the wind. hands balling into tight fists resting on your knees, gaze remaining fixed on the ceiling above.

he had requested that you avoid looking, knowing that the sight might freak you out. you agreed, but now you find yourself regretting that decision. his tattooed hands, strong and assured, hold your knees firmly in place as he proceeds. navigating through a selection of colorful labia piercings. you don’t know how he’s so unbothered by the proximity, while you, in contrast, are a complete mess.

your nipples are stiff, straining against your bra, and your clit pulsates with need. he’s barely touched you, and yet you’re so close. “you so vile, making a mess on my table.” his voice is teasing, and you can feel his lips turn up in a smirk against your skin as he kisses your inner thigh, making you even wetter, if that was even possible. “m’sorryyyy pa, feels good,” you softly whine.

“mhm. i bet, breathe, my love,” he encourages, his voice soothing. you attempt to focus on his words, taking deep breaths as you feel the piercing needle slide through your tender flesh. a bead of sweat trickles down your temple, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. you never thought of yourself as someone who’s sensitive down there, but as the needle pierces your skin, you become acutely aware of just how sensitive you really are. each jab of the needle sends you teetering closer to the brink. with every push, the warmth in your stomach intensifies.

when his fingers squeeze the soft fat of your thighs, a small squeak escapes your lips, prompting connie to chuckle and shake his head at you. “quit.” when the needle is completely through connie carefully attaches a small, pink glittering diamond stud, its sparkle contrasting with the raw, exposed skin. he admires his handiwork, the delicate jewelry accentuating your brown skin.

fuck, fuck, fuck, you can barely keep yourself still as you glide on the edge. your thighs tremble with the effort of keeping them spread apart. your pussy on fire, the throbbing from your newly acquired piercing and sexual frustration mixing. juices coat your inner thighs and run down your ass. if he doesn’t touch you soon, you’re going to explode.

"so perfect.” he murmurs, running his fingers lightly over the piercing, causing a wave of sensations to ripple through you. when your finally flutter open glossy eyes they meet an intense hazel gaze.

“this what you wanted baby?” the feeling of his slimy tongue lapping against you has your back arching off the table. a soft moan escaping your lips as his tongue caresses the sensitive flesh. the heat is overwhelming, and you can sense the muscles in your pussy beginning to grip. “connieeee,” you sob, he’s eating you out so good it’s got you crying.

he knows exactly what to do. his movements are slow and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure as long as possible. he wants to hear you cry, see you lose control. his lips curling into a smile as you moan his name, pleading for more. the pain in your clit is starting to subside, “s-so good con.” a breathless chant that has his dick straining against his jeans.

“i know baby, making you feel good huh?” quickly, his lips are on yours, tongue darting between them. your mouth is filled with the taste of yourself, and you can't help but suck on his tongue, savoring the taste.

“oooo, she wet.” he groans, sliding his fingers into your pussy with a wet squelch. “oh myyy goshhhh!” your hips buck upward involuntarily, pussy contracting around him as they begin to move. he swears he can cum in his pants at the sight of you. flushed cheeks, full lips agape, brown waves tumbling over your shoulders. you feel his stubble brush against your face as he fucks you. “doing so good love.” he praises, thumb moving over your clit sloppily.

“loud ass pussy, bet it turns you on knowing people can hear you.” truthfully, it does and your eyes roll back at the thought. connie springer is so mean, doesn't stop, doesn't slow down. he keeps his pace steady. meaty digits continuing to dig in and out of your pussy with a disgusting gush. shakily, you shove a hand over his seeking some sort of solace. it’s no use though as connie rips it away, “don’t be like that mama, m’ just playing with her.”

your orgasm hits you like slap in the face. hips bucking, vision blurring, toes curling as pleasure washes over you. your whole body tenses, reaching its peak, and then you’re cumming, again and again. it’s almost painful when connie finally withdraws his fingers. “taste.” he’s sliding them across your lips, spreading your wetness across them. he groans as you eagerly suck him. never breaking eye contact with the man, ensuring they're clean before releasing his fingers with a pop. he shakes his head and kisses his teeth, "you're nasty as hell girl.”

“only for you pa.”

𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝑅𝒴𝐵𝐿𝟦𝒟𝐸 all rights reserved. comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated ︎

[babyboy555777]

3 and then some~ Rafe and Barry

Summary~ you make a proposal to Rafe and Barry. Telling them one of your wishes one late night at a kook party held at Rafe's house.

CW~ Threesome, light name calling, mxm kissing, eating out, unprotected sex, rough rafe, soft barry. (Should be all)

~rafe! x barry! x female reader!~

You, Rafe, and Barry had always been somewhat close. Well, whenever Rafe and Barry actually got on decent terms again. It was always the three of you hanging out at Rafe’s house. Them doing drugs and you sitting back watching them snort lines off the table. Barry always came to Rafe’s party as 1. A supplier of course. 2. As a friend of yours and his. And 3. Well simply because he filled the empty air in the parties and made it all the more fun.

You and Rafe, like any other day before a party, drove to Barry’s to talk with him about what drugs he should bring. You laid on Barry’s couch legs propped up onto the back scrolling on your phone as they talked. “Some pot of course. Mostly sell it outside because last time people started smoking that shit in the house.” Rafe leaned back into the chair spreading his legs covering his mouth with his hand.

“I don’t know how much though I guess leave it up to you.” Rafe spoke up again. “As for the powder. Just for us to carry around. Sell it at the table and watch them do it like always. We don’t need people doing dumb shit with it.” Barry nodded his head at Rafe’s words. “I got it man don’t worry. We do this every time I don’t see why you still drive over here man.” Barry huffed and shook his head.

You looked from your phone looking at them both. “Both of you stress each other the hell out. It’s so unbelievable” you chuckled at your own words and shook your head going back to your phone. “Oh, now princess pipes up. Didn’t even talk the whole 20 minutes you’ve been here.” Barry rolls his eyes, and you do the same.

“Oh, bite me I’m just bored. Plus, Rafe told me not to chime in this time.” Rafe nodded his head with a slight smirk appearing on his lips. “Yeah, well that I did. I don’t need to be clouding my head with that blabber mouth running.”

“Oh, you can bite me too Cameron.” You rolled your eyes getting back onto the phone. He let out a sigh standing up from his seat walking over to you. “Come on don’t be that way.” He looked down at you. “Anyway, get up we got to go shopping.” He patted your thigh turning his head back to Barry.

“Call me if you need anything before tomorrow.” Barry nodded his head dabbing up Rafe. You got off the couch walking over to Barry giving him a hug from the side. “See you tomorrow night. Let us know when you’re on the way over.” He nodded his head once again and with that you and Rafe left to go shopping for tomorrow night's events.

You sat in Rafe's room curling your hair on his floor. The party is supposed to start at 8 p.m. you opened your phone checking the time. 7:15. You had enough time to finish your hair and get dressed up. You didn't want to overdo it, but you always wore a somewhat "casual" dress. Although Rafe and Barry always had a word or two to say to each other about what you were wearing.

As quickly as you could you finished up your makeup, since you got sidetracked by your phone, and started to undress and change into your black dress. It reached just below the mid of your thighs. Hugging your curves ever so tightly.

Once last look into the mirror you quickly grabbed your phone slipping it into your bra after checking the time 8:27 and heading downstairs. The house was already filled with many people taking shots, eating some of the snacks, and walking outside to smoke. You saw Rafe hanging in the living room with Topper and Kelce.

You placed yourself on the arm of the couch beside Rafe resting your arm behind his head. He placed his arm on your thigh continuing his conversation with Topper. You looked around the house as more people filled the area one by one.

It was all starting and you were ready. Each shot you poured down your throat the more you loosened up. Each one feeling more and more inviting as the burning liquid slid it's way down your throat.

Your phone buzzed in your bra. You pulled it out looking down at the text from Barry saying that he was finally here. You took your seltzer and made your way outside seeing his small black car parked on the curb. "Hey." You said excitedly making your way over to him.

He chuckled as he shoved his keys into his pocket walking closer to you as well. "Looks like little miss princess is already getting started." You chuckled pulling Barry into a hug. One of his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him. He took a long drag of the smell of your hair and soon released you.

Soon you, Rafe, and Barry all sat in the living room talking with anyone who had sat down. They did their sells, Barry occasionally walking outside to sell some one the pot he had brought with him, and Rafe stayed in the living room with you as he watched person after person snort a line.

Growing bored you made your way upstairs to Rafe's room having an idea of a lifetime. You pulled your phone out of your bra once again and opened up the group chat with the three of you. "You guys come upstairs to Rafe's room when you have the chance." you hit send and sat down on the chair at the desk waiting for them both.

Rafe and Barry both saw the text looking at each other from across the room. A slight nod from both of them and they made their way up. Rafe opened the door slowly with Barry walking behind him. You smiled at them gesturing them take a seat on the bed.

They sat side by side knees touching each other, both looking at you. "I want to propose something. And neither of you have to agree right now or agree at all really. We don't have to do it."

They both looked at you confused knowing you there was no telling what words would fall out of your mouth next. Barry nodded his head letting you go on. "I want to..." You tried to find the words and also tried to think if you should just straight up say it or lead into it. "I want to have a threesome with you two."

Both of their eyes widened a little bit. Rafe soon chuckled. "I'm sorry run that back." He pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows. "I want to have a threesome. With you guys. I've literally thought about it for so long and I don't know I just can't keep it in."

You sighed. "I can't even stop thinking about it. Every time the three of us are together, I want nothing more than this." Barry shook his head, and a chuckled snort left him. "Barry I'm being serious."

You sighed once more. "It's not even drunk thoughts, okay? I truly want this and like I said neither of you have to do it." Rafe and Barry paused looking at you. Rafe looked you up and down biting his lower lip. Barry stared at you simply shocked. "Yeah, I'll do it why not?"

Barry turned to Rafe. "Really?" He cocked his head. "We've all been friends long enough and I mean who are we if we both lie saying we haven't wanted her for so long. Come on Barry."

A slight blush appeared on your face and Rafe's words slipped his mouth. Barry nodded his head. "Okay yeah. I'll do it." He looked back at you and so did Rafe. their stares felt like hungry predators ready to pounce. Their eyes had delighted, and both of them started to breath heavily.

"Tonight?" You said standing up. "I mean it's late and not like it really matters right?" Barry and Rafe nodded their heads saying they'd do it now. Their stares sent a cold shiver down your spine making you want to crawl out of your skin. You turned to Barry moving your hair out of the way. "Unzip me please."

He brought his hands up slowly sliding the black zipper down your back watching as the tight dress now lost it's shape. You slipped the straps off your shoulders slowly letting the dress fall to the floor exposing your back to the both of them. Your black lingerie with lace laid still on your body.

You walked away from the dress standing between them. They both moved making room for you to sit in the middle of them on the bed. You sat down placing a hand on each of their thighs.

You turned to Rafe, then Barry, then back to Rafe. You slowly leaned in connecting your lips with his. In an instant he grabbed the bottom of your neck pulling you deeper into the kiss.

Barry watched as you and Rafe made out. You slipped your hand up and down Barry's leg soon making your way over to his now showing budge. Your hands slowly rubbed through the fabric of his shorts making him throw his head back letting out a small groan.

You pulled back from Rafe giving him one last peck before turning to Barry. He pulled you in the same as Rafe did kissing you ever so softly. You rubbed Rafe's leg up and down earning a sigh from him.

Rafe moved closer to you planting small kisses on your shoulders. He moved your bra strap down off your collarbone soon moving in closer to your neck leaving small love bites below your ear.

You groaned into Barrys mouth making you move your head back releasing the kiss from him. Barry did the same as Rafe making his way to your neck leaving the same but also different bites. You bit your lip holding back a moan as the two fought at war over your neck.

You grabbed them both removing them both from you. Rafe's hands roamed your waist. As Barry looked his now formed bites on your neck. You scooted back onto the bed and both of them looked back at you.

"You two." Barry and Rafe looked at each other confused. "Kiss." They looked shocked and could barely form words. "Come on like you guys don't already think about it." You chuckled.

They looked at each other a moment and nodded their heads scooting closer to each other. Neither of them had done this before, and truly they were nervous. Both of them leaned in grabbing each other's face with one hand. Barry slowly closed the kiss making their lips connect.

At first, they were both hesitant to even go but soon enough they started. Their lips moving at a slow pace. Rafe pulled Barry in even more making them deepen the kiss. You truly bit your lip at the sight of them.

You leaned back taking in the sight of them. Each of them hungrily fighting for the next move. You moved closer pulling them apart to take off their shirts as swiftly as possible. "Eager are we princess." Barry chuckled.

"Shut it." you huffed out. You pulled them further onto the bed sitting on your knees between the two of them not sure of what to do. Rafe and Barry smirked at each other as they started to roam your body with their hands.

Rafe pulled your back closer to his chest. He quickly unclasped your bra letting it fall of your shoulders just like the dress did moments ago. “You don’t need this.” He whispered in your ear.

Barry moved your legs straight helping you slide off your underwear. “Or these.” Suddenly you had felt so exposed in front of the two men. Heat rose up your body to your face. “Come on darling don’t get so nervous now. Isn’t this what you always dreamed about?” Rafe said as his hands moved up and down your arms.

It all did feel like a dream. The absolute best dream you could ever have. You truly prayed this was real. You shut your eyes tight as Barry ran his hands up and down your legs. “Looks like she’s already falling weak.” Barry said with a smirk planted on his lips.

Drew chuckled lightly in your ear. His hands finally made their way to your breast slowly massaging them in his hands. “God who knew you wanted us so bad. And here we thought we’d never have you like such a mess.” Rafe said before planting small kisses on the back of your neck.

Barry bent down leaning closer to your cunt. His breath hitting your entrance caused you to shift. Barry held your legs open looking up at you and your now opened eyes. “Fuck.” You said quietly biting your lip at the sight of him. He planted kisses all over your thighs as he held your legs open.

“God and to think we’d be so lucky to have her all for us right country club.” Rafe chuckled at the words that left Barry’s mouth but agreed. “Can’t believe she didn’t give us this idea sooner. And who would have thought she’d be so wet at the sight of us making out.”

Barry chuckled back leaning further toward your cunt. He placed a small kiss on your clit making you shutter and buckle your hips. You were at a loss for words. The image of Barry between your legs and Rafe gripping your chest leaving kissing all over your shoulders and neck. It was all so much.

“Fuck.” Barry groaned before flicking his tongue all around. Your head fell back into Rafe’s shoulder taking in a gasp of air. Rafe turned your face to him slowly making out with you as Barry’s tongue worked like magic. You moaned lightly in Rafe’s mouth.

Barry’s mouth moved at such a heavenly speed. Sucking on your clit and moving his tongue up and down and in circles. He pulled away making you pull back from Rafe’s now plumped lips.

Barry then soon slid two fingers in you moving in and out making you throw your head back again. Rafe took this as an opportunity to massage your clit. Moving his fingers in circles. listening to your moans in his ears made his dick rise even more. You could feel his boner poking you in the back making you want so much more than was being offered. You felt so needy and greedy with these men. God you just wanted so much more.

“She’s falling apart.” Rafe chuckled as he looked at you. Not a single word left your lips. Moan after moan erupted through the air making them both turned on so much more. “Let me get a taste hmmm.” Rafe slowly moved you off his chest replacing himself with Barry.

He leaned down just as Barry did and immediately got to work moving his tongue as best as he could. The newfound pleasure made it hard for you to even be reasonable at this moment. Your vision blurred and your mind was fuzzy. You grabbed Barry’s face pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Fuck me.” You groaned out against his lips. You could feel Rafe smirk against your folds as the words left your mouth. Soon he stopped his movements getting off the bed. He nodded at Barry to do the same. Both of them stripping down to nothing. They had you in awe.

Both of them side by side rocked your world. They fit so well together, and they couldn’t help but torment you. They both climbed back on the bed looking at just each other. They moved in close like they had did previously slowly leaning into yet another kiss. All you could do was watch as each one fought for dominance.

Their heads turning every so often not moving from each other. Lips now swollen and hungry for more. Barry was the first to pull away and Rafe patted Barry’s face as a way to say good job.

Both of them smirked before crawling on each side of you. "All fours now." Rafe said behind you. you obeyed throwing your ass in the air and your forearms resting in front of Barry's knees. Both of them stoked themselves at the sight of you.

"Fuck." Rafe grunted out. He moved his hands over your hips slightly gripping them. You took a hold of Barry's dick swirling your tongue around the tip making. He grabbed all of your hair bunching it up into a makeshift ponytail.

Rafe soon aligned his rock-hard cock to your folds. Swiping his tip up and down your folds making you moan on Barry's cock as you bobbed your head up and down.

Without warning Rafe slammed into you filling you up with cock make you let out a loud yelp. "Fuck." you huffed out. Barry grabbed your chin making you look up at him. He slowly slid his cock in and out of your mouth. Rafe continued his movements in the back.

Thrusting faster and harder than Barry was on the other side. "So fucking tight. Shit Barry you have to feel her." Rafe grunted as he gripped your hips harder leaving marks. Barry removed his cock from your mouth letting you sit up more in the bed.

With a few more hard trust and loud moans escaping your lips he pulled out switching places with Barry. Rafe planted his hips in front of you. With your shaky hands you reached for his cock sliding it in your mouth and stroking the rest with what couldn't fit.

Barry was gentler with you. He held your hips just as Rafe did but his stokes where slow at first not trying to hurt you. You hummed against Rafe making him bite his lip and throw his head back. "Fuck good girl." He smirked looking down at you.

"Faster Barry." You looked behind you as Barry thrusted in and out of you. He gave a slight nod adjusting himself before pushing further into you at a faster pace almost reaching Rafe's.

Everyone in the room panted and moaned. The room feeling steamy and almost suffocating in a good way. Soon you could feel your high reaching its peak. Barry felt your walls clench around his cock making his shut his eyes muttering words to himself.

You let out a gospel like moan as Barry slammed into you once more making all your walls crumble. He pulled out quickly and Rafe moved himself from your mouth both moving off the bed. Quickly you followed getting on your knees in front of them.

You grabbed both their cocks stroking them at a fast pace. Both of them a moaning and grunting mess as they too were reaching their high. "Fuck, come on baby." Rafe moaned out grabbing your hair.

Barry continued to shut his eyes tightly as he felt himself building up. Soon both of them shot their hot liquid onto your chest. Both of them grunting and breathing heavily looking down at you.

Rafe grabbed the back of your neck pulling you into a sloppy kiss against his swollen pink lips. After he pulled away Barry did the same. He pushed the hair from your face and quickly grabbed his shirt off the ground wiping you off. Rafe grabbed his shirt handing it over to you to slip on.

Both of them slipped their shorts back on as you sat down on the edge of the bed. "Fuck who would have known country club?" Barry chuckled at Rafe. "Who knew this be the best night of my fucking life. Fuck the party were staying up here the rest of the night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hehe I had so much fun writing this hope you enjoyed

[gojodickbig]

sucking biker!bf sukuna off in a parking lot (x f!reader)

(yes he has a bike cause im a sucker for biker sukuna lol)

happy new year babies!!!🥳🥳🥳

wc: 1,7k.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!!

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

the parking lot was dim and quiet, tucked under an old overpass. there was just enough light from a flickering streetlamp to catch the chrome of his bike and the shine of his sharp grin. the air was cold, but the heat between you and sukuna burned through it. the rough pavement pressed into your knees as you knelt there, but you barely noticed, too focused on the man leaning back against his bike, arms crossed, looking down at you like he owned you.

“look at you,” he said, his voice low and cocky, dragging every word out slowly. “on your knees already. shit, you couldn’t even wait till we got home, huh? you that desperate for my dick?”

your hands slid up his thighs, fingers pressing into the denim, feeling the muscle beneath. you glanced up, your lips curling into a smirk. “mmh,” you said, just loud enough for him to hear. “you’re just that irresistible, kuna.”

he laughed, sharp and loud, his head tilting back for a second. “tch, there she goes with that mouth. always got somethin’ slick to say, don’t ya?”

his hand came down, fingers threading through your hair, gripping tight enough to make you gasp. “go ahead, baby. show me how bad you want it.”

you leaned in, letting your face brush against the bulge in his jeans, teasing. you undid his belt slowly, your fingers steady even as your heart raced, your breath warm against the fabric.

he groaned impatiently. "shit," he muttered, his voice thick. "stop actin' like a brat, quit teasing and get to it."

you slid him free, the weight of him heavy in your hand, hot against your palm. he was hard already, and his tip was leaking. you didn't make him wait, your tongue flicking over the tip before taking him fully into your mouth.

"fuck," he hissed, his hips jerking forward slightly. "yeah, that's it. just like that. put that mouth to work, baby. you know what i like."

you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him stretch your lips. his groan was low and rough, the sound vibrating through you as his hand tightened in your hair.

"look at you," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "gettin' all into it. shit, you love this, don't you? love takin' my dick like the greedy little slut you are."

you moaned around him, the sound muffled but enough to make his breath hitch. the bike creaked under him as he shifted, spreading his legs wider to give you more space. his free hand braced against the seat as he leaned back further, watching every move you made.

"yeah, that's it," he muttered, his tone lower now. "go on, baby. take it deeper. wanna feel that pretty throat of yours."

you took him as far as you could, your nose brushing against his pelvis, your throat tightening around him. he growled, his hips rolling forward, making you gag slightly, but you didn't pull away.

"shit," he said, his grip tightening in your hair. "look at you takin' it so good. wanna show off, huh? you want everyone to see you like this? down on your knees for me, suckin' me off like it's all you're good for?"

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your tongue teasing the tip as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with defiance. "maybe i do," you said, your voice rough but steady. "maybe i want them to know how good i make you feel, kuna."

his smirk widened, sharp and dangerous. "fuckin' brat," he muttered. "such a dirty little thing. can't believe how fuckin' perfect you are." he fisted your hair even tighter.

"get back to it, babe, c'mon. don't make me repeat myself."

you didn't hesitate, taking him back into your mouth, working him harder this time. the slick sound of your lips moving over him filled the air, mixing with his low groans. his hips moved with you now, his control slipping as you drove him closer to the edge.

"fuck, look at you. takin' me so deep like that," he said, his voice rough and slurred. "too fuckin' good. you're gonna make me come so fast. that what you want, huh? you wanna swallow every fuckin' drop?"

your hands steady on his thighs as you pushed yourself further. his breathing got heavier, his body tensing, and you knew he was close.

"fuckkkk," he groaned, his voice breaking slightly. "there it is. don't stop, baby. take it all. you're gonna take it all for me, yeah? showin' me what you can handle, huh?"

you whimpered softly around him, the vibrations pulling another sharp hiss from his lips. his hips bucked forward, and you left out another whimper when you gagged again.

you pulled back for just a second, licking your lips as you caught your breath. "quit holding back, sukuna. give me what i want. please."

his grin widened, sharp and feral, his hand gripping the back of your head as he pushed you back down. "you're askin' for it now," he growled. "take it all, babe. don't waste a fuckin' drop."

with a final thrust, he spilled into your mouth, his release hot and thick on your tongue. his whole body shuddered, a deep, guttural groan tearing from his chest as he came. you swallowed everything, not letting a drop escape, your heart racing as he muttered curses under his breath.

when you finally pulled back, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smirking up at him. "how was that?" you asked, your voice shaking a bit.

he looked down at you, his smirk returning as he brushed his thumb over your swollen lips. "shit, you already know," he said, his voice husky. "you're fuckin' perfect. always know how to make me lose it."

he tugged you to your feet, his hands sliding to your hips as he pulled you close. his lips brushed your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "my fuckin’ perfect lil slut," he chuckled as you smacked his chest. he pressed a rough kiss to your lips before climbing onto the bike.

"get on, baby," he said, patting the seat behind him. "we ain't done yet. time to go home."

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

the other anon inspired me and now id like to request hockeyplayer!anakin x reader please!

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

Author's note: sorry Nonnie you waited so long‼️ I absolutely enjoyed and missed writing headcanons so give bun bun more 🗣️🗣️

Hockey player!Anakin who is definitely an ass/boobs man. He loves to watch your round ass in tight jeans where he can just put his hand inside one of your pockets, showing you off to entire school. When it comes to breasts he loves to have them in his hands, to feel them fill his palms, to feel their weight, to jingle them and make nipples hard, although I think he'd just stare blindly, like a starved man, at your cleavage if you had some more revealing shirt, of course in private since he wouldn't just ogle you in front of everyone

Hockey player!Anakin who made love to you after his hockey game;

Yet another thrust slipped from his hips - was way too smooth - swollen, shaky lips parting to exhale a moan. Sweat trippled down the edge of his curl, twirling around the wet hair before falling down his forehead

"Ani--" you mewl, before he understood the assignment and pressed his lips to yours, any sounds bubbling in your throat became swallowed by his tongue pushing against yours

“Fuck--still--so tight,” he rasped, flushed face burying in your neck. Damp curls tickling your skin, your ears following the vivid sound of skin slapping and wet sounds colliding “Missed you all game, couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back, catching on the fabric of his jersey. “Ani,” you choked, legs spreading wider, giving him new angle, to which he accepted; speeding up his movements

“I know, baby. I know,” he moaned, his cock filling you in ways that left you breathless, eyes rolling behind your head. “Coudlnt win this without you” his pace faltered. Hand curled under your knee, pulling it higher against his hip, other hand cradled your sensitive breast. “Youre my dream girl” he whispered “Always here for me, always mine, always cheering me on in this jersey of mine..so casually having my name on your back.”

Another kiss to your neck, which felt as if you were his only one oxygen. With each deep, slow thrust, he unraveled, moaning into your neck

“God,” he groaned, voice breaking as he kissed you again, softer this time, sucking on the spot. “the best celebration ever”

Hockey player!Anakin who always has messy hair with that one curl falling over his brow

Hockey player!Anakin who took you skating;

“C’mon, babe, just relax. You’re doing great--you haven’t fallen yet,” voice teasing yet encouraging.

“Exactly�� thanks to this railing,” you muttered, your baby steps on the ice resembling a cautious toddler.

A soft chuckle escaped his throat as he watched you grip the railing like it was the only lifeline. Despite your clear anxiety, he found your determination charmingly cute. He took a step closer, placing his hands gently on your hips

“You’ve got to ease up a little. Can’t you feel how shaky your legs are? You look like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time,” he joked, a warm smile spreading across his face.

You gasped as your skates slipped slightly, your grip on the railing tightening instinctively.

He couldn’t help but laugh, watching the panic in your eyes as you fought to keep your balance. There was something undeniably endearing about your vulnerability, and he secretly relished the moment. Moving behind you, he positioned himself closely, his hands firmly yet gently holding your hips to support you.

“You’re holding onto that railing so tight, I think it might leave a dent,” he teased, fingers brushing lightly along your sides.

“No, no, no!” you exclaimed, voice rising in desperation as he nudged you away from your only source of stability.

Another laugh escaped him, a mix of amusement and affection, as he noted the startled look on your face. It was irresistibly cute to see you so flustered. He tightened his grip on your hips, speaking softly, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. Just glide slowly.”

“I hate you so much,” you muttered, taking a hesitant glide forward, your legs trembling beneath you.

“It’s okay, baby…” he soothed, hands steadying you as you made your way across the ice. "I forgive you" another joke slipping through his lips

“You’re doing wonderfully tho” he reassured, though the smirk on his lips betrayed how hard he was trying to suppress his amusement at your plight.

You clung to his arm as if it were your next, only lifeline.

“Relax,” voice a soothing mix of humor and warmth “I promise, you’re safe with me.”

“We won’t fall, right?”

He couldn’t resist the smirk that spread across his lips at your anxious question. There was a playful urge to tease you just a bit more, knowing how nervous you were.

“Well, that depends…” tone light and playful. “I won’t fall because I can skate, but you… well, you might be a different story.”

“Just--shut up!” you shot back, the irritation in your voice only making him laugh harder. He found a twisted satisfaction in your struggle, knowing it was all in good fun.

With a sudden surge of affection, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, unable to resist the sudden impulse.

“Ani, you’re distracting me,” you murmured, gaze dropping to the ice, a frown adorning your lips.

“Sorry…” sparkle in his eyes betraying the amusement. “But seriously, you’re doing amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, barely containing a chuckle. It was hard to hide his delight in watching you tackle something so simple yet, for you, so challenging. He gave your sides a gentle squeeze, a teasing smirk returning. “See? You’re not slipping as much as you think.”

Hockey player!Anakin who's definitely into hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows (optionally)

Hockey player!Anakin who, when he's going to sleep, is all tucked to his ears under a duvet. He can not sleep when he's not perfectly, comfortably curled. You'd definitely became his teddy bear, curled with him as well if you're sleeping with hi

Hockey player!Anakin who gave you his jersey with his name and number on your back, so everyone would know you're already, happily taken

Hockey player!Anakin who sometimes ended the game with bruised nose after getting into a fight

Hockey player!Anakin who you tease about the exercises he does with his teammates before the game, on the ice..that leave small room to imagination

Hockey player!Anakin who keeps his hand in your pocket..on your ass..while walking with you through school's halls

Hockey player!Anakin who loves roasted and salted corn

Hockey player!Anakin who can be such a dramatic baby girl on the ice;

After every game, if he’s tired, he’s a full-on dramatic baby. “Baby, they were trying to kill me out there,” he’d whine, flopping face-first onto the couch. “You have to kiss me better. You don’t even understand how rough it was.” And you’re rolling your eyes, but also kissing his bruises because, let’s be real, he’s your dramatic baby girl, and you adore him

If he gets called for a penalty, he rips his helmet off and runs his hand through his tousled curls, looking like a damn runway model as he skates to the penalty box. He mutters to himself the entire way, throwing the refs exaggerated “Are you serious right now?” looks.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne

[aimfor-theheart]

oh cielo!! happy new year!! i'm so glad we've met in this vast internet space and i'm sending you so much love for the coming year as well 💕 if you're still playing, how about fake dating with vi?

FUJI BELOVEDDD!!!! i am also so glad that we've met on this strange internet space and i am sending you so much love and joy and success this 2025!! 💗

i am still playing and i have been waiting all day to sit down and write this one. was SO EXCITED to see this ask...thank u for giving me the opportunity to write about vi 💗

fake dating au + vi

Someone's following you. Their footsteps echo behind you, reverberating around inside your head. You're keen, ears pricked, as you glance half behind your shoulder.

Their shadow in the fog is a ghost that's been haunting you.

Your heart ticks up, your steps lurch; you move a little faster.

Vi should be close—

The footsteps quicken. So do you.

You round the corner and yelp when you crash into a solid form.

Hands on you, wide and warm, steadying you. Eyes like a crystal sky finding yours. "You alright?" Vi asks and your heart swells, relief floods you.

You glance behind you and perceptive and sharp as always, Vi peers into the city smog, too. She sees the shape of someone and knows. Knows danger. Knows who it might be. Her body tenses, hackles rising.

Then her demeanor shifts.

"Been lookin' for you everywhere, princess." And suddenly her arm is around you, pulling you into her. She's warm and solid and you can feel the press of your bodies together, the way you fit together. You try not to startle or pull away.

Your cheeks warm. Vi is your bodyguard assigned to you after this stalking started, not—

You swallow hard, uncertain. "Um—Vi?"

Under her breath, she says, "just play along."

And with that, she sweeps you away, tucked under her arm. The night is brisk and damp, but Vi's body, shrouding yours, keeps out the chill. You walk in step. Your follower perseveres.

As you near your safe house, you watch Vi's mind work.

Between one breath and the next, you're pressed up a back alley wall. And Vi's pressing you there, against you, her hands on your waist.

"We need to ditch him before we reach the safe house." She says lowly, lowering her face towards you. "Just—follow my lead."

As the footsteps approach, Vi dips her face to the crook of your neck. Warmth floods your system and instinctively, you grab for her, fisting one hand in the front of her shirt, the other looping around her shoulders.

You must look like lovers. It strikes you like lightning.

And when the footsteps round the corner, Vi suddenly grabs your chin in hand, and kisses you soundly on the mouth.

You make a noise of surprise, which she swallows. And you think she's only going to stay like this, unmoving and kissing you for appearances, but she suddenly deepens it.

Her tongue presses along your bottom lip and you part for her, almost out of surprise, which she takes advantage of eagerly. With your alarm, mingles a strange glow and flutter of desire. You feel it, tender and terrified, in the pit of your stomach. It spreads it's wings.

Your hand disappears into the hair at the nape of her neck and she gets a thigh between your legs. You gasp.

When she hears your follower near, she pulls away—lips spit slick and chest heaving a little, hair tousled, eyes fever bright—and rounds on him.

The man startles.

And Vi plays sleazy well when she swipes at her bottom lip with her thumb. Gone is your dedicated bodyguard, replaced with a heated fling you may have.

She asks, "You got a problem?" And now she sizes him up. Squares her shoulders. "Can't we get a little privacy?"

He falters, uncertain, eyes bouncing to you and then Vi.

"Fuck off," Vi snaps, "and get lost before I do something I regret."

He scurries away and the moment he's far enough away, Vi is reaching for your hand, engulfing it with hers. "Come on, we gotta go—" and she pulls you along, as if she hadn't just kissed you senseless moments ago, and you disappear down the maze of alleyways with her.

"Nice acting," she smirks, "who knew you had it in you?"

Send me a trope/gennre + a character and I'll write a drabble for it!

[peggyao3]

Crossfade

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x f!Reader x Benny Cross

SUMMARY: Benny comes home after a week on the road and has things to make up for, to his brother Feyd-Rautha and their sweetheart.

TAGS: AFAB she/her reader, no use of y/n, third person POV, threesome - F/M/M, explicit sexual content, penis in vagina sex, oral sex, anal fingering/sex (f receiving), double creampie, overstimulation, spit kink, slight degradation kink, touch of breeding kink, dirty talk, pet names, manhandling, filthy & messy, twincest/selfcest, brotherly rivalry, dirty stray puppy benny, domestic cat feyd, porn with minimal plot

WORD COUNT: 4k

A/N: Frothing at the mouth, barking at the moon, moaning like a slut, I've been wanting to write this for ages and here it isss 🥹❤️ (after blueballing @sebastianswallows with it for like four months asdfg)

Ao3 | Masterlist 🖤

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Look what the cat dragged in. If it isn't my lost brother who has come home to have his laundry done."

The embers of a late summer day still cling to Benny's hair and jacket as he glowers at the scene before him — His twin brother sprawled out on the king-sized bed, big enough to fit three people, legs propped up and spread apart so that the first thing that Benny was forced to see when he walked in was Feyd-Rautha's cock filling out their sweetheart's pussy from root to tip.

She's on his chest, her legs raised and held apart by veined, pale hands, tits bouncing with each obscene upwards thrust, lungs fighting for enough air to formulate a greeting as Feyd carves her insides out. The creaking of the slatted frame is unhealthy sounding, dark wood slamming against the tapestry, the ever same spots crumbling under the force of the bed posts. The cotton sheets are rumpled under their bodies.

"And you've grown into a fully domesticated house cat?" Benny grits his teeth and throws his gloves on the chair, annoyed to find both armrests occupied by Feyd's shit. Who wears a fucking dressing gown at home anyway.

"One of us has to stay home to take care of our poor darling. We don't want her to feel neglected and leave us, do we, brother?"

Benny clenches his jaws and glares. He does not want that.

"I wasn't gone that long." The blonde man squares his shoulders, cheek and forehead still streaked with residue exhaust gases and dirt from the road.

"It's been over a week," Feyd coos promptly, his voice like rattling chains, being calmly dragged across jagged stone. "And you didn't come across a single payphone during your adventures."

Coming home is never not an aching duality. Guilt burns in his guts, a bitter taste at the back of his throat. He always waits for their darling to raise her voice and kick him back out on the street, but she never does. Benny's chest grows lighter, young heart pitter-pattering against his ribs. 

Coming home is also like getting candy at a carnival. It never stops being exciting when he wraps his hand around a bag of treats, and he will always moan when the cotton candy melts on his tongue.

"D-Don't provoke him," their darling finally gasps, trying to heave herself into a sitting position on Feyd's abdomen. She might as well have tried to sit still on a Bucking Bronco. The jerky undulations of his pelvis thrust her right backwards, spine colliding with the hard velvet planes of his chest again. Unyielding hands spread her knees that bit further back, tugging her to the sweet edge of discomfort.

"I should have known you would side with him, sweetling," Feyd purrs and Benny catches a glimpse of his brother's ink black canines and incisors that give him the guise of a hissing serpent. "I've been playing far too nice with you lately."

"I'm not siding with anyone, I'm just - ahhh - glad he isn't dead. G-God, Feyd, can you slow down?" Her head lolls sideways, nose and lips sliding against the cords of his neck as her chin settles in the hollow above his clavicle.

"Contrary to other people in this room, I take pleasuring you very seriously, so be a good darling now, yes?" Feyd is by no means done with this demonstration that has Benny’s aching hard-on pressing against his battered jeans. He's a fucking idiot for for being away from home and missing out on this — and leaving her in the care of his psychotic brother for so long.

"I'm sorry," the blonde man grits out, blue puppy eyes framed by long lashes. He's so ridiculously pretty, Feyd has always hated him for that.

"Make yourself useful, brother. You have something to make up for."

Benny doesn't even slip his boots or jacket off before climbing onto the bed like a dog whistled to heel. Leather creaks and the sharp smell of gasoline and cigarettes melts into the heady bouquet of sex, sweat and perfume. The mattress dips under the added weight and soot-stained hands glide over their sweetheart's jiggling ass, pinning her down against Feyd's hard abdomen and hip bones. Calloused thumbs tug her labia apart and his entire torso is forced to move along with his brother's unrelenting lesson to make him jealous.

"There you go," Feyd coos when their darling moans out, pussy clenching like a vise around his pale, milky shaft as soon as Benny's plush lips wrap around her swollen, little nub.

That's what makes it so great to share her, they all get something out of it.

Benny grunts his wordless apology, hot breath puffing out of his nostrils while his tongue gets to work, feasting on the sweet juice of homecoming. Benny is always so eager when he has his face stuffed between her legs, blue eyes begging for forgiveness as if he thinks he hardly deserves to be here in the first place. She can never stay mad at him for long even though she's sworn she will, god knows how many times.

The aching pressure of Feyd's thick cock sinks into her navel and her channel grows tight, every nerve end prickling overwhelmingly, lit by a match that only burns when both of them have their cocks and mouths on or in her.

The strength of two men holds down her squirming thighs and she can only throw her head from left to right, tear on Benny's curls or scratch Feyd-Rautha's hard flank bloody, but nothing can stop the white-hot orgasm from careening up to her.

The truth is, she can't climax so easily when she's worried and worry eats at her most of the time when Benny is away. She feels sorry for making Feyd work so hard for it when he's on his own, sorry to be cumming so fast now when Benny has only had his lips on her for a minute.

Moan after moan bubbles from her throat like beads off a snapped string and her convulsing body bears down on the man below her, hips bucking against the face of the man above her. Feyd-Rautha chuckles, calls her a filthy toy and the crude words prolong her climax for painful seconds. She feels wetness against her cheek and has to claw her way back out of the quivering daze to realize it's neither sweat nor tears, it's Feyd's tongue licking a stripe from her cheek to her temple.

Benny feels the pulsing of her cunt under his tongue, the contractions of her muscles radiating all the way to her swollen clit, and that's all he gets for now. Jealously, he peeks down at his brother's balls and cock, sheathed and snuggled and milked by their darling's squishy cunt. Or — about to be milked. His twin brother has an obscene amount of stamina when he wants to, probably because pain gets him going and nothing hurts like being edged.

Benny's jeans strangle him while he helplessly ruts against the sheets, like a mutt in heat that they had scraped off the road. He has far less self-restraint. His leather suffocates him and perspiration glues his shirt to his back, but he wouldn't take his lips off their darling's perfect little cunt even if a gun was held to his head.

The thick base of Feyd's cock slides repeatedly against Benny's chin. Spit drips out of the biker's pink mouth and down the coarse beard stubble which leaves Feyd's pale shaft with a prickling rash from the bristly friction. The fair-skinned brother hisses, muscles tensing in his glutes as he slams upwards.

Benny has something to make for to both of them.

One calloused palm remains on her thigh, the other slides to his brother's, hard fingertips kneading into white, smooth flesh. Feyd snarls, thrusts growing short and pointed, punching breathless yelps out of their toy's throat. Benny's hand then trails to Feyd-Rautha's smooth, hairless sac that bounces with each upwards slam. He flattens his palm against it and squeezes hard until Feyd hisses a curse in their mother tongue.

One never knows with Feyd-Rautha's fickle moods and Benny doesn't want to risk a blade against his neck. That's their darling's thing, not his. In truth, he only wants his brother to cum faster, so he can finally have his turn.

"Benny," Feyd-Rautha growls in warning and the blonde man removes his fingers, finding a more interesting target between the slick mess of slapping flesh.

"Benny!" Their darling yelps, feet kicking adorably in empty air.

"What's he doing, sweetling?"

"He's—"

"Playing with your cute little ass, isn't he? Well I can't stop him."

The biker's finger slides in deep and she's painfully aware, yet awfully indifferent, that he didn't wash his hands. His long, thick middle finger sinks down to the last knuckle and the cool metal of his ring bumps into her puckered muscles over and over. His pink mouth suckles messily on her clit, Feyd's cock pounds the air out of her lungs and her center twists itself so tight that the pleasure of it cramps up her entire lower half.

She climaxes once more with a wailed, inhuman sound, thrashing her head from left to right. This time, Benny can feel the contractions of her hole around his finger. He smirks stupidly against her pulsing clit as juice from her cunt drips over his dirty hand, giving him the means to wiggle a second, thick finger inside that cute little hole.

Her sweetly pain-stricken tone is what finally makes Feyd-Rautha cave into the milking contractions of her cunt that pull him in as if to secure his seed inside her womb. And who is he to deny her. While Benny is the dirty street dog in the relationship, Feyd regards himself as a sophisticated animal, relinquishing every drop of himself only with utmost control.

He holds himself firm against her cervix and the shivers of his peak roll down his pale, twitching muscles. Their sweetheart whines quietly against his throat with spit-wet lips, hands folded limply over her stuffed belly. Feyd's cock gives one last greedy twitch when Benny's tongue slides hotly over his balls, lapping at this leaking seed.

"Filthy dog, that's not for you," Feyd rasps but doesn't command his feral twin away.

Impatiently, one tan, broad hand sprawls across their darling's ass cheek and shoves. Her pliant body scoots up Feyd-Rautha's abdomen until his cock slips out, together with a filthy squelch and a rivulet of frothing cum. Two fingers are still working her tight little channel open, easier than ever with so much gushing lube.

"She's gonna need a third one for your cock," Feyd coos, a drowsy lilt to his severe tone, though his hands still keep her legs bent backwards and her cunt and ass on display like a homecoming buffet for his brother.

"You think so?" Benny's blue eyes twinkle trustfully in the lamplight. Without the crude soundscape of Feyd's hips shattering the slatted frame, the disheveled pair finally notice the needy rhythm of Benny's pelvis, grinding against the sheets as he waits his turn, a dog held back only by the collar and leash of guilt strangling his neck.

"On second thought, she doesn't. Get up here."

Get your part of the sweet fucking cherry pie.

Benny bounces upright like a whipcord and strips out of jacket and shirt. Sweat glistens on tan pectorals and a few beads have gotten caught in the sparse, blonde hair sprinkled across his chest and the trail down his taut abdomen. Her eyes follow the frantic movement of bruised fingers, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down just enough to free his flushed cock, jutting out from blonde, messy curls. It bobs obscenely and smacks on her abdomen as he crawls over her, already wrapping a fist around himself to angle the blunt tip to her slick, puckered hole.

"Y'smell like a rat died n'your armpits," she tries to joke, though her tongue feels like a sluggish thing, stuffed and forgotten in her mouth. Reaching up, she curls her palm gently around Benny's hard bicep and her hand shakes ridiculously. The boy smiles stupidly at the comment, proud of himself. Feyd snorts and takes pity on his twin. If he had a tail it would be wagging.

"You can have her cunt too, brother. I warmed her up for you. I know you like it warm and messy."

Even when they were kids, Benny was always the one who loved playing in the dirt. Wetting his cock with his brother's cum only makes him harder. It's just the rotten cream on top of his slice of sweet cherry pie.

"But I— Aahhh!" Her cute complaints are forced back into her lungs as the air is battered out of them. Her cunt is stretched well enough from Feyd's cock to take Benny's to the hilt in one smooth glide. He had probably expected more resistance and found none. The blunt, thick tip of him slams into her cervix, full force.

She hisses through her teeth, staked on the thick, hot lance of his cock. Without delay, he snaps into action, pulling back only to slam back in even quicker. He fucks like he rides — fast and with little care for damage, for the thrill and for the joy of it.

Benny eclipses the lamplight, caging her between his brother and himself. One palm braces himself against the mattress, the other slides softly over her cheek, neck and bouncing chest, happy to find her nipples standing pert against his calloused palm. His fingertips are so gentle, but his pace is not. Her cunt aches, yet pleasure blooms through the blunt, burning pain of being stretched out and used.

"Please, m'so sore." She would have almost preferred to be fucked in the other hole instead.

Feyd's hand curls around her neck, pressing her down against his shoulder. A gentle reminder that any escape attempt will be in vain and also punished.

"Did you hear that, our darling is sore," he purrs in gentle mockery.

"Yeah, I heard that," Benny grunts, blue eyes slipping over her pathetically disheveled face. "Is it too bad, babycakes? I can stop." He slows down, and the slower pace almost aches worse, reminding her every nerve of just how sore they are. It would take him great effort to stop, but it'd be a punishment he deserves.

"She can take it," Feyd purrs, fingers of the remaining hand tightening their grip on the back of her knee, holding her quivering thigh bent and open. "Don't disappoint my brother, sweetness, we've fucked you much worse."

"N-N-Now you're siding with him?"

"Of course, he's my brother. He's been saving up his cum all week. Didn't you, Benny?"

"I didn't cheat if that's what you're asking—hmmph!" 

Feyd's hand has abandoned their darling's thigh and curled around his brother's hip, gripping him by the ass cheek just above the haphazardly shoved down jeans, encouraging him to go faster, harder. 

"Oh, no, you wouldn't. I'd kill you if you did." Everyone in this room knows Feyd means it.

Encouraged, Benny ruts into their sweetheart's slick, squishy pussy, hard and hurried, taking advantage of the privilege as long as he has it, scared that his baby might kick him off any second. And she could, now that her legs are finally free from Feyd-Rautha's grasp.

But what she does is sling her shaky legs around his hips, heels scraping against the back pockets of his jeans, because she never wants him to leave again.

Feyd holds her steady by the neck, a nice little fuck toy for his brother. Their darling's calf lies over his hand on Benny's ass and his thumb strokes over her pulse. He'll know when it really gets too much for her. She just likes to complain, but at the end of the day, her squishy cunt can't stop weeping for their cocks and her little mouth can't stop drooling for them when they manhandle her and toss her around like a cute, little doll.

Her lungs quiver around the smell of sweat, cigarettes and testosterone, the perfect fucking scent to get high on and chuck the remainder of her brain into the trash. There's nothing to worry about when she's squished between two hard, virile bodies, caged by clenching biceps and twitching abdominal muscles, both of these bodies powered by the strength of their thick thighs and hard shoulders.

The only downside is that she can't catch a break with two of the same kind in her life, but the good thing is that she don't need to worry bout nothing when they're both in her bed, fucking her brain into gummy soup.

"Open, sweetness." Benny's thumb presses against her bottom lip and wriggles into her drooling mouth, tasting of cigarettes and tanginess. Her jaw falls down obediently and Benny grins before spitting on her pink tongue. "Now kiss my brother."

Feyd-Rautha chuckles. "How thoughtful of you."

His pillow-shaped lips descend on her open mouth, her sweaty neck still gently strangled by his palm. Black teeth sink into her upper lip before his mouth slants against hers diagonally, rolling his tongue against the sluggish thing in her mouth with gratuitous saliva. Moans and pitiful whimpers are swallowed by Feyd-Rautha's mouth while Benny's cock pistons into her with hard, slapping rhythm, jolting her body back and forth in the clamp of sweaty muscles.

Sticky flesh rehardens, pokes and twitches against the cleft of her ass. The plump head is nuzzled against Benny's ball sack. Feyd relishes her thunderous heartbeat under his palm, her pupils blown comically wide with fucked-out arousal and fear. She knew this was coming.

"He's already prepared you for me," Feyd coos, pressing wet teeth against the corner of her mouth. "Don't want his efforts to be in vain."

The two men shuffle for a moment and gruff hands pull on her flesh, tugging her in place just how they need her until Feyd finds the right angle to line himself up, evoking snarls and sharp nails in Benny's clenching back when the blunt head of his cock forces her slicked-up ring of muscles to spread open.

"Now, now, don't pretend this is too much. We all know there's enough room for both of us."

"It's alright, babycakes." Benny holds still, letting her pussy flutter meekly around the girth of him. His calloused hand captures her chin, thumb rubbing over the drool-glossy corner of her mouth. He looks so beautiful on top of her, blonde hair frazzled into a shattered lamplight halo.

She pouts at him, grunting when Feyd's cock sinks deeper inside with surprisingly slow, little thrusts. And then, when Benny starts moving again, her holes are stuffed so good, she might just implode around them and never have a single thought in her blanked-out little brain again.

"Ahhh, God, that's so—aaahh~"

"That's it, doll, that's how we like our sweet little thing," Feyd snarls, hand on her neck, arm slung around the small of Benny's twitching back. Benny grins, white teeth among blonde stubble, as if he hasn't been happier in his entire life.

And maybe he hasn't. In his untamable heart, living from sunset to sunset, every day is another adventure as prickling and brand new as the last.

The two of them find a filthy rhythm, viciously in sync like only twin brothers could be.

They are sunshine gold above, chalk white hills and midnight teeth below and yet they are each other's complimentary mirror image, engaged in a brotherly staring and fucking contest and their sweet slice of pie is stuck on the front line between them, moaning and crying their names so good that both of them could go insane and lose their minds in her cute, filthy holes.

"Oh, god... oh, fuck, oh, g-god! B-Benny, ah, Feyyyd—"

"Yes, baby, comeoncomeon!" Benny grunts out, brows scrunching up in despair. His balls ache from a week's worth of cum and desire knots at the pit of stomach, pleasure pulling outwards in a way that he can hardly contain with sheer power of will. He needs his baby to milk the seed out of his cock like she wants to fill herself up with his whelps.

The bed creaks, Benny's sweaty curls grind tirelessly against her swollen clit and Feyd's fingers tighten around her windpipe. Climax wipes out her seeing and hearing for a solid thirty seconds. Both holes clench pathetically around their cocks, drool slips from the corner of her mouth and gathers in the hollow between Feyd's clavicles.

Benny's mouth pops open, string of curses falling out as he lets himself get dragged in by his sweet darling sugar pie's pussy, milking him for all he has, milking him until it hurts and he wants to bury his face in her shoulder.

Feyd watches his brother come apart, gawks at him with parted lips and wickedly twitching smile. Dark eyes gleam and he waits only for one thing, for Benny to look him in the eyes, and when he does, Feyd-Rautha too drains himself into the sweet release of painful pleasure, pumping their sweetheart's ass full of filthy seed.

Three bodies come to rest and time and air stand still. Evening light seeps through the dirty window pane. Dogs bark outside and the stench of sex and sweat is nearly suffocating in the heat. Benny's weight bears down on the both of them as he nuzzles her neck and then his brother's.

"Benny," she sighs, mussing up his greasy strands with gentle fingers.

Pretty, sleepy puppy.

But a heavy one too. Feyd's breath below her is strained and quiet, but he holds out patiently.

Ten minutes. Then, Benny eases off them, cock slipping out of her sore sheathe. Proudly, he gawks down at himself, finding his shaft covered in slick and a lewd combination of cum from root to slit. Feyd-Rautha lifts her gently off his cock and thick dollops escape her clenching hole.

"I'll clean that up for you." Benny darts for the filthy treat between her thighs.

"NOOO, enough!" The sole of her foot splats against his bristly cheek and shoves him off with so much force that he's sent toppling off the bed, landing moaning and groaning on the creaking hardwood floor.

"Kush!" She then smacks at Feyd's bald head and the feline man all but leaps off the bed, knowing that the only thing to save him from a beating — or being sprayed down with a water bottle — is bringing enough distance between him and his sweetling. That and bringing her a warm, damp cloth.

Their baby's sulking with them now, so they better take care of her good.

"Get up, idiot." Feyd-Rautha kicks his brother in the ribs who is still shuffling around on the ground, stuffing his sweaty dick back into his jeans.

"Huh?"

"You know what to do!" Feyd yanks his twin up by the armpits and shoves him towards the hallway door to fetch their darling a nice, big glass of water, like always.

"Sorry, baby~" Benny catches himself against the door frame, looking back to her with big blue eyes that could melt rocks.

"It's fine," she smiles, smirks even, and Feyd tsssks through painted teeth, pale toes tapping on the floorboards.

"Always so lenient with him."

"Can't help it," she giggles. "Look at him."

"Yeah, I know."

"What's that supposed to mean," grumbles a blushing, pouting Benny before stomping out on the hallway as Feyd cracks the bathroom door open, pale, lithe limbs slipping out of view.

Finally alone — at least for a minute — their darling slumps against the damp pillows and lets out the biggest sigh of relief. Finally, things are as they should be again.Tonight, she will sleep sandwiched between the two warmest, nicest pillows in the world, embraced by two pairs of arms and legs and two heartbeats thudding peacefully against hers.

A/N: I want to be their brainless piece of cherry pie so bad 😩💦🥵 I don't rule out writing more random smutty scenarios with them, if inspiration strikes, hehe.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst, @gravesdiggergirl

[kkukverse]

his dandelion

pair: Taehyung x athlete!reader (fem.reader)

genre: high school au, childhood friends au

warnings & ratings: mentions of injuries | fluff, angst

word count: 4k

author's note: happy birthday, winter bear.

You were both thirteen when Taehyung wanted to be your friend.

He sat next to you in art class, only with his dark charcoal pencil as his utensil. He drew peculiar lines and shapes and sometimes portraits. Your teacher loves them but you cannot understand it. 

Your teacher once said that he would’ve made an astounding art prodigy if his arts were to be seen by the world. She said his talent is hidden in this crappy little island. But Taehyung doesn’t really mind it, he once whispered to you, “I like it here, I don’t think my art is that big of a deal anyway. It’s not like I’m Van Gogh or something”

You laughed along because at thirteen years old, you never knew nor cared about a guy named Van Gogh. Taehyung used to tell you about that guy. Not wanting to look ignorant, you used all of your extra pocket money to get into Mr. Lee’s cyber cafe. Using the internet to find out more about the man Taehyung always talks about. 

You were confused, for someone who painted in vibrant color, Van Gogh is actually a sad guy. 

Unlike him. Taehyung was a vibrant kid and you noticed he only used dark colors in his paintings. You always paint everything in red and yellow. Those are your favorite, probably because of your field and track jersey. Since you keep seeing those colors, you tend to use them the most.

One day, on your practice day, Taehyung sat spreading his legs on the bench. Quite close to you but you still squint your eyes. Unsure if it’s actually him or just some other boy who wore the exact baggy beige pants that you always see on him, why is he here? Maybe he’s waiting for a friend. 

You just finished a total of five set a hundred meter runs before you realized that he is actually looking at you. From almost a yard away from him, you waved your hand “Taehyung?”

“Yea,” one arm on his knee, the other one waving back at you.

“Waiting for someone?” you yelled, hoping that he can hear you.

“No one, just watching you,” Taehyung answered.

You jog closer to him, because you think you misheard that he was here watching you, not waiting for someone. Wait? 

“What?” You pant while wiping sweat on your forehead. 

“I said, I was watching you running,” he beamed, looking up at you. He was holding back a laugh seeing your face twitch in confusion.

“There isn’t any particular reason. I was just nearby when I saw your team having a practice.” 

“And somehow you decided to stay?” You asked.

“I am curious. I really wanted to see you in the field. I saw you in your jersey all the time after our class. I never gets to see you in action, so yea, I decided to stay and watch you,”

“Well, that’s…”

“Too weird?” Taehyung scooted to provide you some space on the bench. His big hand lightly taps on the free spot, luring you to sit next to him.

“No, not really. We just don’t really talk in class and I was just..shocked?” You’re making sure there’s a gap in between your thighs and his because you’re conscious of your sweaty smelly self. 

He chuckled and you stared at his boxy smiles. There it is, the infamous smile that swooned everyone in this little island.

“Silly, I thought we’re already friends? At least I considered us friends the moment you let me borrow your yellow paint.” He turns his whole upper body, fully facing you now. 

The yellow paint was a cheap one. It was not even that bright. In fact, all colours in the paint set are dull and pale. It was affordable and your mom did her best to buy it. Bless her heart. Taehyung uses your yellow paint for the dandelion he drew. What you didn’t know was, he may purposely draw the dandelions so he can talk to you. 

“Oh yeah.” You agreed along.

Crap. I’m so sweaty like a pig right now, you thought. 

“Let’s make it more clear, can we be friends?” Taehyung smiles at you.

“Sure,” was your only answer. 

Dammit you can feel the sweat running down the valley of your prepubescent beasts and you wanted this to end before Taehyung can see it through your thin jersey. 

Since that day, Taehyung never missed a day of your practice. Just sitting all by himself on the bench until it’s over, and after that you walked home together. 

At seventeen, he wiped the tears and kissed the pain away.

If Taehyung was told to rate three of his hardest moments in his life, number three would be sending you off on the ferry to town. 

You have become a successful athlete, number one track runner in your hometown representing your school. You were always away for running events.

Once a month, you’re cruising on the ferry, off to the big city. It pains Taehyung to watch you go out of the island where he is still stuck there. But he insisted on sending you and picking you up. Because that way he can soothe his heart by sending you safely and knowing you will always come back home.

Just like any other month. Taehyung is waiting by the station on his bike. Ready to pick you up.

He is imagining your silly face with a gold medal on your neck. “Taetae I won! Again!” Like any other month. Taehyung can’t help it. He has grown to care about you a lot. He has become your number one supporter, always there at the finished line.

Taehyung knows by heart the schedule of the ferry. The ferry leaves at seven every morning and the last trip from the town is always at before five in the evening. He knows the schedule like the back of his hand. It’s a small island. Nothing really goes wrong. Except if there is a storm or if the sea is unpleasant. Which was rare. 

He knows that the journey took two hours. It’s always two hours back and forth to the big city. Somehow right now his watch is pointing at seven. Later than usual. He kept himself calm by picturing you running to him. 

His eyes lit up the moment he saw the ferry. He patiently waits until every single one of the passengers is out of that ferry. Just like any other month, he predicted your loud scream can be heard by now.

 Except, this time it was silent.

The ferry was here but he couldn’t hear your giggles, his heart was beating fast. Something is not right.

Standing up straight, he runs to the ferry. Calling for you. 

His frantic eyes caught a few people still coming out but he couldn’t find you. What happened? Times like this makes him more anxious because he couldn’t call you. At seventeen, having a phone in this little island is a luxury. Promising himself to get a phone soon with the money he collected from part time jobs.

One hand on his hip and the other is rubbing his face, he broke into a cold sweat. His mind is moving too fast with questions. Were you left behind? Did something happen to you? Are you alone?

Just before he almost turned around and grabbed his bike to look for your coach or your mom, he saw a solemn figure at the back side of the ferry. 

His second hard moments in his life is watching you injured.

His heart beats like a drum when he sees you in crutches, one leg is wrapped and head down looking at the floor. He walks with a heavy heart to you, whispering your name as if calling you out loud would break your already fragile state.

“Hey, look at me,” Taehyung says softly as he holds your chin. Prompting you to look up to him. He gasped after his eyes set on your face. Your lower lip is busted and red with dried blood, your eyes are swollen, which he assumes from crying. He hates that he was right.

His greatest fear, your tears.

“Taetae,” the break in your voice is stabbing Taehyung all over the place.

“Shh, It’s okay, you’re okay.” He cupped your face with his hands. As gentle as he can. Eyes frowning seeing you in pain. Taehyung wishes there are things such as transferring pain because right now he wants to take yours.

“I lost,” you sob, letting tears and snot rolling down your face. The sting on your lip is the least pain you can feel.

“Oh dear, it’s just one lost. I’m sure you did your best.” Taehyung cooed as he wiped your tears and snot.

“No, it’s not gonna be one lost from now on. I tripped and fell so hard. It’s gonna take months to heal,” you hiccups and Taehyung swears this is the sound that breaks his heart the most and he vows to keep you away from it.

“I’m gonna miss the nationals, Tae what am I gonna do?” you wail. Breathing becomes hard. With hiccups and sobbing and a blurry view because of the tears, you’re breaking down in his arms.  

“Shh shh, take a deep breath for me. Come on baby, don’t scare me. Please, please breathe.” he puts his forehead on yours. Hoping to ground you back to him. Thumbs rubbing softly on your cheeks.

The term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you. Baby.

“Taetae,”. You were still sobbing as you leaned on him.

Taehyung is terrified, he never saw you cry this hard. He doesn’t know how to calm you and it kills him to not be able to do anything to lessen your pain. So he kissed you, softly. On your forehead, on your cheeks, on your eyelids, on your nose. 

The traces of his kisses feel like a feathery touch. And your sense is following his trails. Closing your eyes you’re no longer sobbing. Only soft whimpers fill the space.

“There we go. No more tears, baby.” Taehyung is relieved now that he can feel you breathing at a steady pace again. “Let’s go home,” he hesitated when his eyes landed on your lips. Swollen red from the biting. 

You noticed the lingering stare and with a beat of the heart you crashed your lips on his. Seeking comfort and warmth, Taehyung is soaring high. The kiss was like a warm wave. Languid and soft. Taehyung is so gentle. He peppers soft kisses around your busted lips. 

“Don't wanna hurt you,” he breathed. Pulling himself from the kiss, he rubs a soft circle on your cheek. “Let’s go home,” he added. 

He piggybacks you home first and comes back again later to pick up his bike and your crutches. From that day onward, you both knew that you aren’t just friends anymore.

You have been itching to get your feet back on track and once the cast is off, you swear you’re gonna spend every evening running. It wasn’t ideal since the injury was bad and you were advised to stay put until it completely healed. 

But you were so determined to get back on track because your only goal is getting into nationals. You have planned it out. Since you don’t perform well academically, running is your only golden ticket out of the island. You got to join the national teams. You must.

The evening after you took off your cast accompanied by Taehyung, you asked him to drop you off at the track field.

“What are we gonna do in the field? You’re not planning on running aren’t you?” Taehyung speaks with scrunched eyebrows. 

“Taetae, please. I really missed the track.” You pouted and he’s a goner.

“No running!” He pointed his finger at you. You smirk before pretending to bite it. 

“I’m serious. No running,” he gently flicked your forehead. “We’re just gonna take a walk, okay?” he hums, turning around to make sure you’re securely safe on the back of his bike.

“I promise.” You squeezed his waist, an answer yes I’m alright back here Taetae.

You have no idea how much you missed the track until Taehyung helped you down from the bike. The sudden gush of air fills your lungs like you’ve come up from drowning. Taehyung can sense that you’re become quite overwhelmed. His hand enveloping yours as he kissed your temple.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Rahhhh!! Rahhh!!! 

The chant of the crowd broke a smile on your face. You missed it, you missed smelling the old burgundy track, feeling the burn from the sun, the sweat and the satisfying burn in your lungs when you reached the finish line. 

You missed a certain someone waiting there. With his ridiculous boxy grin, and his booming cheers, muting other sounds and you can hear nothing but his voice. 

It is so hard to be the one sitting in the audience instead of being on the track.

Taehyung left you for a minute to buy some lemonade and you desperately need him to ground you. Otherwise you’d be a crying mess. Yearning to be on the track but your almost healing leg is holding you back.

It is an annual event, something like sports day for the people in your island. It wasn’t even a big event, unlike the ones you used to compete in. But your heart hummed in a painful tone. You’re jealous of those who can run freely on the track you held dear to your heart.

A soft tap on your shoulder broke you from wallowing in self-pity. Taehyung sat next to you, hands holding two cups of lemonade. He knows coming here is not a good idea but you woke up so early and dressed up to be here. He doesn’t have the heart to say no.

Seeing your frowning face, Taehyung started to think maybe he should’ve said no or maybe brought you somewhere else but here.

“Hey, did I tell you that Miss Choi is helping me submit my art to the National Art School?” Taehyung winced at his futile attempt to distract you. No, Taehyung, this isn’t about you. He bit the inner cheek. Handing you a cup of lemonade before he could think of anything to turn back the time.

“No way,” you gasped. He knows you’d be excited for him. But he didn’t expect how your face would just glow in excitement like this. He was glad. 

“Taetae! Why did you just tell me now? How could you!” you punched his shoulder. It doesn’t hurt a bit. Taehyung is still lost in your happy smile. 

“Ah, I'm so happy. Finally, Let the city people look at your art. They're gonna praise you Taetae!” You smile adoringly and Taehyung hated that he had one thought you wouldn’t be happy for him.

“Yea, but I’m not sure yet what piece I should submit. I’m not that good and nope before you can scream at me let me finish,” he raised his finger on your lips. Just managed to stop you from gasping out loud. 

What an outrageous statement! Kim Taehyung’s arts are the most magnificent arts. Though you have no clue how to appreciate art, you would break hell if people couldn’t appreciate his art.

“It’s a tough competition, even if my piece were received and reviewed, the chances of me getting in there are slim. There are so many talented artists out there, baby. Let’s not have high hopes. Not to mention I haven’t had a decent piece to submit yet.” he sighed. Shoulders slumped and he emptied the lemonade in one go.

He is nervous.

Looking at him, you squished his cheeks with your hands. “Look at me,” you demanded.

“Your art is the most breathtaking art I have ever seen, Kim Taehyung. And it’s a lot coming from me, who is practically blind when it comes to looking at paintings. I have zero knowledge about art but I know for sure, yours are gonna blow some minds. There’s people out there who studied arts, they will look at yours and be amazed by them.” You said.

“And you will always have good arts, they’re not just decent. You always said when the inspiration comes, it comes. Don’t pressure yourself,” you whispered as if it’s the only secret between you and him. And you’re selfish, not wanting to share the moment with the rest of the crowds.

Taehyung didn’t know how a heart could break until that night he received a call from your mother.

“Taehyung, she fell. Again.” 

The static noise filled his ears as he ran to the jetty. It was midnight and there’s no ferry to take him to you.

Stupid, stupid girl!

He cried while banging his chest. He could’ve prevented you from going. You told him you wanted to participate in a tournament. It was not even a month after you recovered. Teahyung did think you were so stubborn to go because apparently it was for a scholarship. You were hellbent on going because you knew, the moment Taehyung got accepted to art school, you will be left alone. 

You wanted to be in the city with him. You were so sure Taehyung would get accepted and the only way to be with him is to get the sports scholarship and join him in the city.

Taehyung was unsure at first. You just got better. He was scared that one slip could jeopardize your whole dream. Again, he hated that he was right.

Your mom was sobbing when she called him. “She can never run again Tae, her muscle was torn and there’s no way we can afford a surgery. She hasn’t woken up yet, she was under a high dose painkiller. I don’t know what to tell her Tae.”

Taehyung wished he could calm your mom but he couldn’t. Not when he was crying too.

You always tell him the same dream of yours. Joining the national team, go to the Olympics. Becoming the fastest runner of the country. Run until you can never feel your legs anymore. With him always telling you he’d be on the finish line. Cheering you on and on. And now the dreams will stay as dreams.

He couldn’t control his anger and thinking about your pain, he collapses on the ground. Letting the tears touch the ground. It wasn’t until he was collected enough to ride the earliest ferry to town. To come to you.

Taehyung stays by your side nights and days. Helping your mom as you don't have any male figure in your life. His parents understand it and he is thankful for that. They know how much you meant to him and they were so proud to see their son has been such a reliable shoulder especially in this trivial time for your family.

He was the one who meets up with the doctor with your mom. Discussing the recovery plan, and just being there to be your pillar. You were so quiet on the first day he arrived. The dark circles under your eyes and the hollow stare is tearing his heart apart. 

Not saying much he helped feed you, and carried you to the bathroom. You were still quiet, though Taehyung tried to engage you in small talks. He makes silly jokes, the repeated jokes you always laughed at only to be received an empty response from you now. 

“Tae, I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren't here. Thank you so much, son.” Your mom cries to him. Taehyung was so heartbroken to see your mom keep crying as he himself couldn’t do much to ease the pain. 

“She’ll get better, she is strong.” He said. It has become a mantra every time Taehyung sat alone, thinking about you.

One day, when the doctor allowed you to go home, you reached for him. Mumbling, “Taetae, will I be okay?” your voice was strained, rough and broken. Eyes still staring into the void but your hands held onto him so tight. Like you’re so afraid if he lets go.

“Yes, you will. You’re a strong girl, you’re my strong girl,” Taehyung replied without hesitation, kissing your forehead in hopes of banishing the negative thoughts from swallowing your mind. 

“But I can’t run anymore. What’s the point? I am no longer a runner.” 

“Maybe there’s another opportunity for you. Maybe we can try other things, I’ll help you,”

You scoffed, he sounded silly and unrealistic. “I am nothing without running. It’s my only purpose, Kim Taehyung.” 

He winced at his full name used by you. “I get it but you shouldn’t lose all hope. There are other possibilities for you out there, we just have to push harder to look for them. I believe in you.” Taehyung pleads.

“You don’t get it. All my life, one thing I am sure about is the track. I beat the time every time I’m on the track and now I am defeated with a broken leg and a stupid brain. Forget academics, you and I, we both know how terrible I am at learning. I’m not you! You’re a prodigy in everything. You have people who want to buy your art. I only have the track to stay valid so no, no one gets it. Not even you!” you were seething through your teeth. 

All of the pent up anger and frustration were let out to the one person you cared about. It’s too late to regret, now that his face shows nothing but hurt.

Taehyung feels like being punched in his gut with your words. How could you, when he himself couldn’t sleep a wink from the day he heard about your injury. When worried about you every time you were at a tournament. When he can barely sit still watching you running on the track.

He couldn’t say anything after that. He knows whatever comes out from his mouth will only make it worse. You were devastated, he got to understand that. You need time and space, and you will be okay again. 

Ever since you arrived home, you refused to meet anyone. Not even Taehyung. You were angry and most of all you were just sad. You wanted to be mad at something, something to blame but you couldn’t find it. 

Maybe it was yourself, maybe if you weren’t so stubborn, maybe if you waited a little longer. 

Taehyung did not give up. You were pushing him away and he didn’t move a flinch. He realizes he is being a pushover but you need someone. You were stubborn, through and through. You don’t have to come out of your room to talk to him nor him entering your room like he always does, but you know he’s around, he is home. 

He even followed you and your mom to your routine physiotherapy. But you ignore him. A part of you feels selfish and guilty for treating him this way. Another part is, you think you’re dragging him down on this stupid island. You tried to distance yourself from him, but Taehyung didn’t care. He stays stuck next to you. 

Even though you went to school all by yourself, Taehyung always follows behind you quietly. You didn’t talk to anyone and yet he still comes to your locker to help you carry your book. 

You forgot about his art submission, until one day he came up to your room. Knocking softly. He didn’t speak but who else would be in your house other than your mom. You opened up to see him holding a big white canvas under his arm.

He turns it to you, showing you a painting of a girl in her yellow and red jersey. The girl is running in a field of dandelions.   

“I want to submit this but I need you to see it first. You are my muse, you are my girl. It kills me to see you in this state and I want nothing but the very best of you. I used to cheer for you on the finish line but this time let me run by your side. Let me help you. If I get accepted, I will make a lot of money and I will make the best life for you, so you can stop worrying so much. We’ll learn together, just let me in.”

[seaweed-water]

here's a snippet from flesh and bone. this should give you an idea of how dark this fic gets... fair warning, this might make you uncomfy.

The basement bedroom is brighter than Derek remembers, the last place he checks for Stiles when he’s not in his office or the kitchen.

“Hi, baby,” Stiles says, glancing up from the sketchpad in his lap with a smile. Dr. Martin is in a new precarious position, still bound and gagged, her body arched into a bow as she kneels, hands tied to her ankles, legs spread. Her nipples peek through the intricately tied knots, different from the ones binding her just days ago, and her stomach quivers where she’s forced to hold her pose.

“Why her?” Derek asks, his eyes lingering as she breathes heavily through her nose, watching him with knit brows.

“She couldn’t stop poking around and got too close to the truth. Didn’t you, Lydia?” Stiles says, peeking up at her with a morbid smirk. She whimpers in response, a tone of apology as she begs with her eyes, and Derek can assume what she’d be saying if she could talk: I promise I won’t tell anyone, please let me go, please, you don’t have to do this, please, I want to go home, please, please, please. Derek’s heard it all before, and none of it has ever touched his heart and made him feel guilty enough to discontinue. By the time he’s got his target locked in, his empathy has been disengaged—they are already a dead man. Or woman.

“Do you always keep them tied in knots?” Derek asks, his tone in awe as he steps closer and runs his finger over the cotton rope, and Lydia squeezes her eyes shut as she flinches. Her face is a mess, perpetual tears glistening over pale skin, her nose and lips red and puffy, and Derek always loves when they look like this—absolutely wrecked, begging for mercy just before he grants their final wish.

“No, only when I’m drawing them, or putting them on display,” he adds, his pencil scratching as his eyes draw back and forth between his model and the paper. “I keep them in a straitjacket otherwise.”

“How long do you keep them?”

“Until they stop fighting the restraints. Then they just lay there for a week or two and get tender.”

Lydia whimpers, fresh tears spilling from her brilliant eyes, made greener in contrast against the surrounding bloodshot sclera. Derek reaches over and pushes the fallen hair over her shoulder, her head jerking as her body quivers. “Have you touched her?”

“Mhm. Forced a few orgasms out of her. She’s a good girl.” Lydia seems to disagree with this, her eyes narrowing in a watery glare.

Derek turns to him, his jaw tight as his gaze hardens. “Did you call her that?”

Stiles pauses his drawing as he tilts up to meet his stare. “Yes.”

“I don’t want you to anymore,” Derek snaps, his face pinching in.

“Don’t want me to what?” Stiles asks, his head tilting like he wants to hear Derek say the words out loud.

“Call anyone but me a good boy.”

Stiles holds his gaze, his face unreadable as he blinks before offering a slow nod. “Okay, baby.”

They stare in a quiet understanding, and Derek nods back before returning his intrigued gaze to the captured prey. His fingers trail over the knots and slices of available skin, muscles trembling in their wake.

“Do you want her, baby?”

“Yeah,” Derek starts, still fascinated by the live art before him, and then, “I want you to tie me up like this.”

“Okay, my love,” Stiles says, “Show me what you’d do to her.”

Derek is all too happy to obey.

[biblicallyaccuratemcu]

Humanity has proven throughout history that there is no possibility for true, unending peace. There will always be selfishness, and entitlement, and pride — humans as a species are so flawed, it’s embedded in their very genetic code. There is no escaping your nature…No matter how good a person may be, there will always be darkness lingering inside — perhaps out of sight to most, but always ready to emerge at a moment’s notice.

She and Steve have both seen evidence to prove that.

A crooked little grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. For all the philosophy he just so eloquently shared, Nat can’t quite get past the fact that the words ‘slut shaming’ had just passed Steve Rogers’s lips.

“Mm, let’s see…” Emerald eyes roll toward the ceiling, as if seeking her truths and lie among the speckles in the plaster.

“When I was just a girl, my first crush was on a boy I saw only once — he was a pickpocket, and a lousy one at that. He had dark hair, and equally dark eyes, and when he looked at me, I…Felt like I couldn’t breathe. The man he tried to rob snatched him around his throat, and without thinking, I threw a knife at him. Got him in the arm, too. He dropped the boy, and he took off. I ran in the opposite direction, and was thankfully never caught. I like to think that boy also escaped.”

Her toes wiggle a little beneath the blanket, and Nat relishes the warmth that spreads up her legs, and through the rest of her limbs.

“I have a tattoo on my outer right thigh; it’s roughly three inches — just black fine line, nothing fancy. Once I broke free from Dreykov, I wanted something to commemorate my…Autonomy. So I went to one of those sketchy shops that’s open twenty-four hours, sat down in a faded leather chair, and let a guy named ‘Spikes’ tattoo the Russian word for survivor into my skin.”

“I’ve never been good at taking care of things. No green thumb here — but I tried once. The first time I broke out on my own, I probably killed…God, it must’ve been upwards of ten different species of flora. I’m talking everything from those potted herbs that are supposed to be beginner friendly, all the way up to cacti.”

“Damn, Rogers…Who’d have thought you were capable of game like that?” Despite having lost that round, Natasha’s still in high spirits. The purpose of this game is to get to know the person you’re playing with, so in that regard, she’s certainly won. In their years spent working together, there’s never been a great time to sit down and just — be.

Though she’d be reluctant to admit as much aloud, this is certainly a memory she’ll return to on those especially dark days.

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it? If you could actually kiss away the pain. Might have kept a few wars from happening, at least. But then — we’d be out work, hm?” She chuckles at the sentiment, but there’s no mirth to be found in verdant eyes when she looks at him.

“Not that you’re in need of that sort of medicine these days.”

[kamitv]

Your best friend Sukuna is a complete slut.

Though you’d never say that aloud—albeit more than true. That's the only way to describe him because why else would he be in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed, with his legs spread wide open, fingers wrapped around his thick cock, and groans of your name leaving his lips?

Because he’s a goddamn slut, that’s why. And normally when you interrupt his… sexual acts, you quietly apologize and rush off as quickly as possible.

Yet, here you were, being ordered by your best friend not to run away this time.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” Sukuna’s raspy and slightly husked voice drawls out to you, eyes boring into yours from across the room, “Bring your ass over here.”

Funny how he said he wasn’t going to repeat himself only to follow up with a literal repeat of his initial order-

“Now,” He hums, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You stiffen up where you stand, trying your absolute best to keep your eyes anywhere and everywhere else except for the hand he had stroking his cock.

Gulping, “Sukuna-,” He shoots you a pointed glare and you start getting nervous. “You can’t just… j-jerk off in my room and expect me to… to help you.”

“Fuck,” He hisses, your eyes nearly falling on him again as the low noise makes you fidget, “Fine, then get out,” Sukuna tells you.

Your brows push together at the audacity of him, not that it really surprises you anymore, “But-“

“Out. I’ll be done soon,” He cuts off, sitting back and fisting his cock at a quicker pace, eyes drinking in every inch of your still figure.

You didn’t want to look at him. Nor did you want him jerking off in your bedroom. But, you also didn’t want to leave for some strange reason.

Hence why you just stand there and look around your room as if you don’t know the interior already. Sukuna can’t help but crack a smirk as you stand there, his breath growing heavy before he calls your name— watching the way you flinch at the sound.

“Kinda’ awkward if you just stand there, y’know,” He chuckles out to you, finding you oh so amusing.

You frown, “Kinda’ awkward if you just jerk off in my bedroom.”

“It wouldn’t be if you came over here,” He snaps back.

You hate how quick he always is with his responses, something you still haven’t gotten used to throughout all your years of friendship. Swallowing, you just barely glance at the man, “What?” You huff out.

Your eyes were on his and his were on yours. Tension was vexed into his gaze, desire pouring out of his maroon shaded eyes and making you so utterly nervous as you stood across the room from him.

All as he just sat there, shirtless, tattooed and chiseled chest very difficult not to gaze at, large thighs spread lewdly, and hard curved cock twitching within his grasp as precum oozed out his tip.

You couldn’t help the way your gaze dropped for a moment, catching sight of his cock and the way his plump tip glistened under your dim bedroom lighting. His hand movements got noticeable faster as you watched and you drew your thighs closer together.

Sukuna lets out a deep sigh, “Y’know,” The sound of his voice makes you flinch yet again and you lift your gaze as though you’d been caught doing something wrong, seeing the smirk on his face, “You can come get a closer look.”

You bat your lashes at him, “W-What?”

“Is that all you know how to say?” He chuckles, “Hah, just c’mere already,” He suddenly requests, voice softening ever so slightly. “I won’t bite.”

And that’s… roughly how you ended up on your knees in between his legs. With a mouthful of his cock, you don’t even remember what’d come over you after you listened to his request and came close to him.

One moment you started shyly teasing him about being a pervert who jerks off in your bedroom and the next you were curling your fingers around his shaft and making your way down to your knees. Sukuna had let out a long shaky sigh as he watched you settle in between his spread legs, his urge to tease you dying off as some other emotion swelled within his chest.

He’ll never admit it to you but, he was shy. How could he not be when your soft hand begins stroking his cock like he’s just some kinda toy for you to play with—what’d you expect him to do when you look up at him and lean forward to wrap your lips around his drooling cockhead? 

Unfortunately for him, his expression gave away everything and as soon as his dick began disappearing into the warm caverns of your mouth, he was a goner. A hand was now tightly gripped onto your scalp, his breathing unsteady as he watched you suck him off with that pretty ass mouth of yours.

He’ll never be able to forget the sight of drool spilling out from the corners of your mouth while you tried your best to take him all the way into your throat. And his mind just about blanks when you move your hands to his thighs, push them further apart, and then sink down completely—your lips meeting his base.

Now that was a sight to see. 

“F-Fuck,” Sukuna stammered, the sound alone leading you to choke a bit as a moan attempted to leave your throat. His darkened eyes were seconds away from rolling to the back of his skull with how sexy he found the sight of your lips bulging around his thick cock.

When you finally do pull your mouth off of him, he doesn’t even get a moment to breathe before your hands are wrapping around him. He goes from leaning back slightly to sitting up a bit straighter and moving his hands down to one of your wrists, his lips unknowingly quivering.

Then a pant escapes him and you’re bringing your eyes back up to look at him. “Slow, woman—fuck, go… hah, slow.” He says hoarsely.

Oh the desperation on his face was priceless. Why ever would you listen to him when using two hands to jerk him off is all it takes to receive a slightly pouted lip and furrowed brows from him. He probably doesn’t even realize the face he’s making at the moment, too grumpy trying to take control of the situation to feel his features faltering. 

You coo, “Aw, go slow? But, ‘Kuna, I thought this was what you wanted?” 

The nickname you just threw at him has to be evil in some way, shape, or form because the wild twitch it invokes is enough to have your hands tightening their grip around his thick cock. 

Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a vein popping out in his forehead—he’s so annoyed with you now that the roles have reversed, it’s cute. “Fuck you,” He curses, as if that’ll help him avoid the embarrassment bubbling up within him right now.

“Oh, there he is,” You purr, removing one of your hands just to angle his cock back toward your lips and then tapping it against your skin gently. “S’kinda hard to be mean to me when I’m makin’ you feel so good, isn’t it?”

He swears you’ll be the death of him. He’s never experienced this side of you, nor was he aware it even existed. All he’s ever known you as was his shy roommate who’s so unintentionally attractive that it pains him to be around. Is this really the same woman who was stuttering moments ago when she walked in the room and caught him jerking off??

Sukuna huffs out an almost bratty breath of air, “Stop… talking.” Just as he’s never seen this side of you, you’ve never seen this side of him and fuck is it hot. He’s usually such a big intimidating man and yet here he is literally folding and gasping to your touch.

You completely strip your hands away from his cock and then open your mouth, staring right up into his eyes as you whisper, “Make me.”

All that embarrassment and temporary shyness is gone within the blink of an eye. Sukuna’s stumbling up slightly to his feet and grabbing a firm hold of the top of your head, letting out a gruff sigh while taking his dick into his hands and properly aligning himself with your mouth.

His chest is glistening in sweat and his head is pounding, he was all nervous seconds ago for what? Because of you? Oh please.

It only took those two words of yours for him to remember who the hell he is as he then thrusts his hips forward and quickly fucks himself into your mouth. “That’s more like it,” Sukuna grunts, giving your mouth some mean thrusts as he forces your head to move and meet each one of his motions. “Fuckin’ slut, m-makin me nervous,” He admits hoarsely, his tone aggravated with you. “Who do you think you are, huh?”

You’re obviously too busy getting your face fucked to answer that properly but the moan you let out that leads to drool filthily dribbling out your mouth is enough of a reply for him. Especially when he catches how it drips down onto your thighs. 

Sukuna releases a pretty groan out into the air at the mere sight of you. He thought he was losing his mind before but now it’s even worse. You don’t even have your hands on his thighs to try and brace yourself or control what’s happening—you just let him have his way with your throat, taking things a step further and moving your hands behind your slightly arched back.

Fuck, he needs a picture of this. He desperately needs this display of you burned into the forefront of his mind for the rest of his life. Especially as he starts hitting the back of your throat and you purposefully choke against him. Sukuna’s other hand lifts to cover his mouth because he swears he almost whined.

Your throats too fuckin’ tight, you’re holding eye contact with him for too damn long, and if he feels your tongue flick against that specific vein of his one more time—

“Hnngh—” Sukuna moans, his grip almost bruising as his head flies back and his cock presses right against the very depths of your mouth, hips stalling with the way his orgasm comes rudely rushing out of him. 

Then he feels you swallowing and even though he was trying to keep you head still, you begin to bob yourself back and forth on his cock while he’s cumming and that’s when a whimper is choked out from his lips. Sukuna’s whole body just clenches and he’s letting out all kinds of sounds as his hand, now shaky, holds onto your head for dear life.

Even when he stops cumming, you’re still sucking and his eyes roll back, voice coming out strained. “S-Shit, fuck—stop,” Sukuna moans again, “Please?” Never in all your years of living did you ever think you’d hear Sukuna Ryomen begging you for something and yet here you are.

You steadily pull your mouth off of him with a slick pop, sting after string of saliva hanging in between his tip and your glossy lips. He’s above you panting for a moment before stumbling back to sit down on the edge of your bed again.

A hand of yours moves to causally wipe your mouth off and you don’t even know if you wanna tease him now or later about what just happened. “So, that was—”

“Don’t speak,” He cuts off immediately, his voice surprisingly airy. “Ever. Never bring this up again.”

You snort, “Promise me you won’t jerk off in my room again, first.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Tch. Whatever.”

Like the vixen you are, you begin to lean toward him again and you don’t know if you image it but he flinches ever so slightly. “Promise me,” You say as your hands meet his knees and you begin to lift yourself up.

His eyes go wide and he internally panics at the sight of you moving. “Fucking fine. I promise.”

Smiling, you move to lean over his tensed body and plant a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy.”

…

Yeahhh, his brain just powered off.

[screampied]

‘ ALLLL ON MY TONGUE I WANT IT ★ ?!

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, geto, sukuna, higuruma. how the jjk men eat you out, ‘till the jaw aches

cw. fem! reader, cunnılingus, dirty talk, praise, edging, nose riding, hair pulling ( geto ), slight mommy kink ( choso ), squırting, overstim, p spanking, dumbification, puśsy drunk men, spıt kink, biting, i forgot nanami nuu, sukuna uses his hand mouth.

wc. 4.0k+

☆ SUGURU GETO.

“i’m hungry. spread ‘em,” balmy hot breath fans against the inner parts of your thighs as you sit still. lazily, you lean back against your bed, meeting the feral gaze of a very feral man with dark raven strands running down each sides of his face. there’s an almost pout forming on his lips before he kisses your pretty twitching pussy through your panties.

without hesitation, he ogles as your legs sprawl away from each other. he rests on his stomach, preparing to dig in before you stop him, lightly grabbing him by the hair. “s- sugu,” you breathe, feeling a tingle brew inside of your tummy, mixing along with a fluttering concoction of butterflies. he stares at you with a raised brow before you pull out the sable black hair tie that was secured around his wrist, pinning his hair up into a messy ponytail.

“oh,” he hoarsely hums with a shrug before preparing himself to dig in - licking a long sloppy stripe that forms a sticky wetness against the cottony fabric of your panties. “thank you baby. always so thoughtful.”

geto didn’t have to tell you twice. whenever he came home, he wanted you. whether it was thirst or hunger, the only thing that would clench his thirst and feed him right was that pretty thing between your legs. he’d eat you out for hours, up until his tongue is numb and his jaw is just aching.

“thirsty,” he huffs, and you could hear him swallow every few slurps. your legs were already shaking in dire anticipation. geto’s irregular breaths were gruffly strained—he runs his calloused fingertips against your slick folds before lapping them up with his tongue. “mhm,” dark eyes flicker back toward you and he grabs your wrist that’s dug into his scalp. “pull. harder,” he grunts, instructing you to tighten your grip against his hair. you’d almost forgot it was one of the many kinks he’s told you he’s into. as you gather a good enough feel, you drag his hair by the ponytail, pulling harder and harder until he grunts. a sly smile presses against your pussy before he chuckles. “good girl. better had.”

as he’s shoved face first into your cunt, you notice the shine on his lips were painted a pretty crimson. with his eyes close, lengthy black lashes flap every so often as he’s devouring his favorite meal of the day. of every day.

“sugu, sugu, suguuuu,” you whimper, the sensitivity of the nerves that store inside of your clit making you fail to stay still. he inhales, gathering a decent wad of saliva before spitting right onto your cunt. it’s so nasty, he’s nasty. you watch with wide eyes, feeling yourself twitch even more before he licks it right up with no shame. out of nowhere—you felt yourself blurt out your thoughts you didn’t expect to come from your mouth. at least not so soon. “s- spank it, sugu.”

“spank it sugu,” he mocks your words, rolling his eyes before briefly moving his lips away. “don’t tell me what to do,” and within seconds later, he spanks your cunt anyway. damp droplets of your slick plop onto his palm and he groans. “last time i checked, i don’t take orders from sloppy wet girls so lie back ‘n let me finish eating, yeah?”

“yes, s- suguru,” you pant, the quake within your thighs never subsiding.

there’s another eye roll that comes from geto, and he goes right back to eating you out like a starved man. he doesn’t even need to use his fingers, his tongue was just enough. more than enough actually. orgasm after orgasm, he’s emitting out the most sweetest sounds from you. you’re so loud that it bounces off the walls. he hears the reverb of your voice and it makes him snicker. “louder,” he growls, slurping up a remainder of your saccharine flavored juices. your grip remains in his hair and you bite your lip, preparing to finish yet again. “i wanna hear you. i want the neighbors to hear you. i wanna hear a scream come outta that pretty tight throat.”

and he meant it — your pleasure meant everything to him. with the way he’s sucking, you wouldn’t have lasted a second longer.

the moment you end up reaching your inevitable climax, a potent bawl rips out of your throat raw. he’s munching on your pussy, eyes shut with an innocent smile on his face as if he hadn’t just made you an entire broken mess. “s- suguruuu!”

you’re shaking, panting.

it’s as if every finish was way more powerful than the last one. a breezing squall of wind prises from your full lungs before you fall back. your legs remain spread, mouth formed into a circular shape whilst you’re still making a cute attempt at trying to catch your breath. “c’mere,” a low voice murmurs to you, and he sits up to go toward you. geto’s sweltering body heat radiates against you. he tenderly wraps a hand around your neck before pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. “open.”

with half lidded eyes, you open, already knowing what’s to come. as you part your plump lips apart, rolling out your tongue, sharp hooded eyes stare down your throat before he leans in and spits right inside. you moan, feeling his free hand toy with your cunt some more, clearly not finished. “uh huh. now, swallow ‘n give me a kiss, sweetheart.”

as his hand squeezes against your pulsating pussy, you whine—swallowing, shutting your heavy eyelids before pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss. beads of sweat from his forehead press against yours before he returns the gesture, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“mhm,” he grunts, now starting to suck on your tongue. it took you a while to realize geto’s eyes were already open, and he was looking straight at you. abruptly, he pulls away and gives your forehead a kiss. “good girl,” but then he makes you lie back, spreading your legs even further.

“but ‘m still thirsty. let’s see if i can make ya squirt this time, pretty.”

☆ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

“dove, you wanna ride my nose, don’t you?”

a low voice coos at you as he’s reclined back against the sofa. he’s sexily manspread, work clothes still on and unkempt — tie pulled off halfway and he hums, watching your abashed expression grow. “it’s okay, i don’t bite. c’mere.”

and with an usher of two swift finger motions, he tells you to come closer. with your panties still on whilst you’re slowly sticking your own arousal between your legs, you prepare to hover over his face.

you pause, parting your knees apart and on each side of his face before huffing. “a- are you sure? i don’t wanna suffocate you, ‘romi.”

“that sounds like heaven, trust me,” he whispers, grabbing ahold of both of your thighs. it was a secure grip. with two broad hands, he outspreads them - gentle thumbs stroking against your sweet, candied skin. “so perfect. so nice ‘n soaked jus’ for me, huh,” and after about a few seconds, you take your seat down on his face. higuruma gruffly grunts, a low guttural moan escaping from his lips before he smooches against your cunt. it’s slick, not only slick but sweetly sweet. “that’s it, dove. ‘s just you ‘n me, don’t be shy. ride it.”

you whine, biting down on your bottom pulled lip as your pussy grinds against the bridge of his nose. the second you ride against it, the feeling sent your entire body into overdrive.

with your lashes fluttering, you feel the bumpy texture of his hooked nose - it’s rough and gnarled—perfect for riding against.

higuruma lowly grunts at seeing the way your hips leisurely pick up its pace.

you were a natural, moving against his face whilst your hands find their way into his hair. his messy, knotted strands was like a maze. your slender digits entangle through his darkened roots, giving them a firm tug before your head tosses back in ecstasy.

“f- fuuuck, hiromi,” and you start to feel his tongue lay itself flat. you’re rubbing your cunt against his slick-spit lips and his nose back and forth.

over and over, you’re already spiraling,

profusely, your legs shake and jitter before you whimper out a desperate wail. “jus’ like that, ‘romi. p- please,” and as you continue to use his face, he’s meeting your eyes. it’s only been seconds and he’s already pussy drunk. a sly smile spreads across his lips before he slides a thumb down the opening of your cunt. “ngh, fuck.”

“yeah, dovey. ride my face—mphm,” and he’s interrupted by your cunt silencing his words. your taste, he just couldn’t get enough. higuruma’s already got a slippery snail trail of your arousal that’s coating his chin. it’s got an almost glow to it, you yank on his strands until his head falls forward. a throaty chuckle comes out of him before he flicks his tongue against your clit. “heh, easy now. my hair’s one of my best features.”

you couldn’t even laugh because pretty soon, you were about to reach your chilling climax. its shivering, frigid and you felt like you were walking on eggshells.

“fuh— fuck,” you clench your jaw, feeling your legs merely collapse right then ‘n there. it was unpredictable, you were an entire full blown mess and his tongue wasn’t making it any better. as you continue to thrash your hips into his greedy mouth, you’re clinging onto his hair tightly. his nose, the bumpy texture continues to rub off against your swollen cunt before it finally comes.

you come,

it comes all at once - an overwhelming bundle of nerves surge straight out of you, electricity pulsing through your veins as you come undone.

you’re sucking your teeth and you don’t even realize it. as you’re slowing down by default, feeling his lips steadily suck against your tender slick folds, he purrs.

“oh, my love,” he breaks away for a moment to breathe, warm breath titillate against your twitching heat. “made quite a mess out of me, huh,” and with a thumb, he rubs against your pulsating clit, giving the nub one final kiss. “such a good girl. my good girl.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

“baby? c .. can we try this?” and you have a sheepish grin once choso’s showing you a video of a woman getting ate out. however, he’s imagining it’s you the entire time, feeling his mouth water at the pure thought of tasting your sweet cunt for the first time. it’s lewd, probably too lewd for him but he just couldn’t help it.

“sure, ‘cho,” you give him a soft smile. even your smile alone was enough to get him hard.

and it did.

with choso though, despite being over hundreds of years old, he was inexperienced but he was also a very quick learner. he tried to remember the video, the tongue work, how the man made the woman feel. but the second he’s diving into your cunt face first, there’s no prying him off.

you’re laid flat on your back whilst he’s right between your thighs, using a single thumb to trace down alongside your curves. he makes sure to pay attention to every part of your body at least he tries to. heart eyes blow its way into his pupils, dilating as he admires your pretty frame. “y- you’re so pretty, baby,” his voice was so soft and gruff. it almost sounds like a whisper.

not even seconds go by and he’s already drooling right before your pussy. a shimmery coat of saliva pours down the inner cracks of his lips as he gets a view of his meal. god, he couldn’t wait. every few seconds, he’d pull away to coat your slit with a multitude of amorous, sweet kisses. once you wrap your thighs around his face, he’s slurping anything and everything out of you.

you could barely stay still, going into a state of shock of pure pleasure. choso’s tongue was long, he makes it extend all inside of you, not missing a single spot. it curves its way through the inner parts of your cunt, taking time to swallow your taste and moan at the flavor that now lives on his tongue. your flavor. it doesn’t take him long to reach your sweet spot - because once you release that cute squeal, he sucks against it even harder.

“w- wanna make my princess feel good,” he murmurs, already drowning in your slick. your pussy was sopping wet, coating his chin with such ease. every once and a while, he flicks his tongue against his chin, relishing in your taste. “fuuuck,” he whines, feeling a cute tug of your hand drag his ponytail against your cunt. “use my ponytails like handle bars baby, ‘s okay— mmm.”

like a good boy, he slurps you clean, pressing a hand gently on your tummy, brushing a thumb against your navel as he’s happily luxuriating in your taste. “c- chosooo,” you mewl, feeling the intense shake of your legs arise.

it’s like a wave, everything’s preparing to crash down all at once. with the way you sung his name, it sounded like a harmony, a symphony.

his pointed ears twitch at the sound of your voice, the way your hips thrust into his mouth makes him drool for more.

already . . you’re stupefied. he’s drunk from your pussy and you’re drunk from his tongue. “ugh, jus’ like that, baby. you’re doing so good, making me feel so good.”

“i- i am?” his face cutely lights up. choso gives your cunt soft licks, delving his tongue in and out, exploring every depth. choso’s head moves side to side in a quick motion. it’s attractive, he’s already sweating and strands of black hair stuck against his forehead like glue. choso was a sucker for praise, especially whenever it came from you.

he can’t help but creep a hand down between his legs as he lies on his stomach, touching himself. he groans against your pussy, feeling your hips stutter from his erotic tongue work.

“y- yes,” you whimper, grabbing ahold of both of his soft dark ponytails. his eyes lock onto yours and he’s entirely pussy drunk—droopy eyes and that sheepish little grin. he looked so pretty, but the moment he stares down, choso knew that your sweet cunt was even prettier. as he’s lapping up your honeyed taste, slurping against your folds, you rub him against your soaked entrance with a more hastily tempo. “so good, choso. m- make me feel so good all the time.”

“i- i do?” he whimpers, moaning from your taste. he’s trying not to rush, he wants to savor the flavor of your cunt. your praises, it was enough to make him make a mess in his pants.

so much so to where he can’t help but reach down to touch himself. reach down into his obsidian black boxers, stroking his flaccid veiny cock. with choso, he gets off to you, your pleasure was always his pleasure. once he sees you nod, he lowly moans again against your cunt, quickening his tongue work and pace. “i- i do,” he repeats, kissing your folds again, and again, until you end up cumming on his tongue.

hard, it comes quick. it had your mind going for a loop — you couldn’t think nor could you register anything out of your little empty brain. you feel a hard pressure pressing against your abdomen, a pool of heat ghosting on your body and you get euphoric tingles. right away, your legs give out as he’s still dug between them, flopping back and landing with a cute oof. choso’s lower part of his chin was soaked and he loved it. he slides your panties back toward the center before having a soft pout. “are you okay? w- was i like the video?”

with a soft exhale leaving your windpipe—you huff, cupping his face. “even better,” and you lean down to kiss him. he moans into your lips, leaning into your gentle touch, sitting up to press his body against yours. swiftly, your tongue licks against his upper lip, tasting your taste that was lingering on his tongue - it’s sweet. choso could feel his heart racing, and you gasp once he slowly trails a hand down between your thighs. as he’s on top of you, he gives your cunt a gentle feel before licking a needy stripe up your neck. “c.. choso, you want more?”

“yeah,” he whines with a subtle nod, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s humping against your leg. “please— pleaseplease, take care of me now m- mommy?”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“nuh uh, no ya don’t. get the fuck back here,” and a small squeak leaves your throat as he’s dragging you back by the hips. clumps of creamy cum stick against the fat of your thighs - it’s spilling, oozing out and he licks his lips at the sight.

you moan from his touch, feeling his hand caress against your curves. “bend f'r me, yeah,” he whispers hoarsely, witnessing the limp arch your body submits. “atta girl,” he coos roughly, bringing his face directly up close to your ass. “what a fuckin’ mess,” he smacks his fat angry tip against your needy slit. kissing his teeth, toji grunts. “really milked the shit outta me, babygirl.”

indeed you did - as he drags a thumb down the swollen bulb of your clit, he stares at the excess cum that pours out of your hole.

“ngh,” you whimper, feeling his toasty warm breath tickle against your wet folds. the second you feel toji’s tongue lap against your entrance, your thighs only grow weaker. you were already so sensitive from before, and the moment his tongue licks against your pussy — you were over. toji’s nasty, smearing his face all over your drooling cunt with the most cockiest grin on his face. the curving slant of his scar brushes against your folds and your toes curl at the rough texture. “tooojiiii,” you gasp out a sweet elongated hum, slapping a hand over your mouth.

“such a fuckin’ messy girl, huhhh,” he quips, flattening his tongue to slurp you full. your legs shiver as your eyes start to roll back, feeling his thumb tantalizingly plug its way against your puckering hole. “messy baby, gotta fuck you ‘n clean you right up,” and his breath against your cunt only makes you twitch more. you moan over and over until your voice was a broke record.

it feels peculiarly cool, a frigid slick coats against your folds as he latches his lips. you whimper, muffled moans clashing against the soft surface of your palm before he playfully bites your pussy.

“such a crybaby, maybe i should stop hm? ‘s it too much? thought you were a big girl.”

“n- no, please,” you choke out a weak sob, the pleasure practically giving you whiplash. your ass swerves against his face briefly, making an attempt to rut your rear against his face. “i am your big girl—don’t stop, ‘toj. ‘m gonna cum, hngh.”

with a scoff, he continues to swipe his tongue across - flicks turning into sloppy, sultry sucks.

it’s to the point where he’s practically just making out with your pussy, tongue kissing and giving it solid french kisses. sloshing sounds of your wet pussy rings against his sensitive ears before he inserts a single thick digit. with gracious ease, you clamp around his finger and you let off a breathless moan.

“c’monnn, give it to me. all on my fuckin’ tongue, girl,” and as he’s sucking you clean, you heave, feeling the plush of your tummy cave in in rapture. once he gives your cunt a rude abrupt spank with his free hand, you let off a cute whine. he tchs, narrowing his jade blown irises at you. “fuckin’ slut. get turned on from jus’ about anything, huh,” and your thighs jiggle with recoil. your shrilling babbles only pitch and grow louder before he’s nibbling harder against your pulsating nub. you huff, digging the edges of your teeth into your flesh. already, you’re dumb and it’s moments until you cum right on his tongue. “mhm.”

as you blissfully succumb to your teeth shattering release, your chest slumps into the mattress and you’re left stupid - entirely stupid.

your tongue was lolled out and your eyes flickered back to the very depths of your craniums “fuck, fuck, fuuuuck, toji,” you slur your words on melodic loop, chewing on each individual syllable. as you collapse, you feel yourself dampen between the crevices of your thighs.

“allllll clean,” he snickers, giving you pussy another smack. you whine, feeling your cunt all tender and sensitive. toji pries his lips off, licking them clean before dragging his thumb across his scar. it was wet, his stubble was drenched, and toji leans in to give your filthy folds one final suck. you’re too stunned to speak, trying to wriggle your ass away from his mouth but he drags you right back again. “not so fast, baby. ‘m not done,” and before he flips you over on your tummy, he spanks your ass just to see the little jiggle. “but since y’er a good girl, i think you can give me one more, right?”

“well—”

you’re interrupted with a mean slap to your pussy.

“that’s enough talkin’ baby. ‘s time y’er pussy gets the mic,” and the dark haired man gives your folds a soft, loving kiss. in a low, hoarse whisper, he hums, staring straight at your twitching entrance. “ain’t that right, princess? uh huh, thought so.”

☆ SATORU GOJO.

makes you squirt for the first time and immediately gets addicted to it.

“heh, angel if i had a dollar for every time you squirted f'me today, i’d be rich— well, technically i am rich,”

and of course with gojo, not only is he a good eater but he’s a fucking blabbermouth.

he’d literally talk your ear off while you’re riding his face. white thin strands of hair nearly occlude his view of vision. as he’s lying flat on his back, he needs to take a few seconds to dig his hand through his hair, combing the strands back in place. your legs tremor with desirable euphoria.

as you shifted your weight against him — his chiseled jaw all shiny and glistening with your arousal, he simpers as you prepare to speak. “s- shut up, ‘toru,” you repeat yourself for the nth time, eager for him to start up again. his tongue had you craving for more. this was his favorite view of you, without a doubt. just straddling his face, rocking your rickety hips back and forth until you gush out again. sucking in a long breath of air, you bury your shivery fingers into his smooth snowy-rich scalp. “ngh, talk so fuckin’ much just finish.”

“ugh, well excuse me,” he rolls his eyes, pretending to be offended. the white haired male used a single thumb to pry your legs open before he rolls out his long tongue. it’s clean, a pretty pink tongue that’s already watering at the tip. drip after drip. your breath hitches at the sight, he’s hungry for more and so were you. “let’s try with my fingers this time, pretty girl. think we can do that?”

you nod, inching a hand down to touch yourself but with quick reflexes - he grabs your hand only to then spank your pussy, earning a cute yelp from you. “ah ah. words, i was speaking to you, not your pussy, dummy.”

“y- yes,” you hiss, feeling the stutter in your waist accelerate. if it wasn’t for gojo’s hand gripping against your left hip, you’d have surely collapse onto him. “i can take your fingers, ‘toru.”

“fuck yeah you can,” he purrs - hot breath going right up against your slick folds. you whimper, watching with hazy doe eyes as he starts up again. gojo feels your cunt sporadically twitch in his mouth and he groans. he creates a swirl with the tip of his tongue before slowly inserting one finger. one eventually turns into two and the stretch, your legs were on its last final final hinges. you moan at the thickness of his digits curling all around your soaked gripping walls, swabbing up a nice amount of your slick slippery sweet. “yeah, listen to her. she’s got so much to say unlike you.” and his pristine azul eyes were staring straight at your cunt, not you. the wet wet squelches from your own slobbering folds makes your hips jerk forward quicker.

as he’s vigorously plunging two fingers in and out, his tongue continuing to slurp you clean. you whine, tugging on his hair, holding onto it tight for support. a hand claws into his silky strands before you hear the sloppy sluuuurps that slither out of his annoying mouth.

“sa— fuck, satoru,” you sob out, gasping once the tips of his digits locate your g-spot with such ease. he was so quick, his fingers knew exactly what to do. mimicking a bowling ball grip, he fucks his fingers into your swollen cunt, still latching his lips onto your pussy. “ngh, ‘toru. i just finished. satoruuuu.”

“babyyyy,” he mocks your moan in a faux manner, fully exaggerating the way you sounded. you rode his face at a more steady yet faster tempo, already feeling yourself about to collapse.

the stimulation had you floating on an incredible high. white thin brows of his arch into a furrow as he’s melting in your cunt, laying his tongue flat before overzealously sucking against your clit.

“mhm, that’s it. make another mess. awh. don’t be shy, ‘toru’s gonna clean—mmph,” he pauses with a grunt, giving you a half glare as you yank his hair forward. his smug grin returns and he briskly pistons his fingers further into your gummy walls. “as i was saying, ‘toru’s gonna clean you right up. always liked the mess.”

you’re spasming — the only thing you could see was a multitude of bright colors. as your jaw drops right on lewd cue, dangling goofily, you felt a gush of pleasure ripple out of you again. your thighs practically stuck together, the numbness adding its own kind of gripping sting before he quickly snatched his soaked fingers out. now, you’re just a drooling babbling puddle—with huffed breaths, you glance down at gojo who’s got the biggest grin.

as he’s lapping up your mess, you feel the tip of his nose swipe its way against your folds. he couldn’t help but smell you, your heat. you were so hot, in more ways than one. cerulean blue eyes meet yours one more time before he snickers, a tiny pout curling against his lips.

“oh, baby. are you cryin’?”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“no, go on. finish touchin’ her,”

hoarse low words embarrassingly creates a pulse between your thighs. as you stare at sukuna, not only are you knuckles deep into your swollen pussy but you’re also caught red handed.

curses, you knew full well how sukuna wasn’t fond of you touching what’s his. to him, you were his and that included your precious cunt. crimson red eyes bore into you as you slouch back, continuing to pump your sloppy drenched digits in and out. “keh. the audacity.”

you felt a burning heat settle against your skin, its feverish. you take a minute to swallow, a slimy coat coating the entirety of your fingers before you whine.

“kuna,” and he sucks his teeth - staring at you play with yourself right in front of him. with two hands, he spreads your legs, not wanting you to hide anything else. his touch send a feverish thrill up your spine and you gasp once he lightly smacks your hand away. “p— pleas-”

“quiet, woman,” he grouses, using the fat of his thumb to spread your quivering cunt lips apart further. he gets a full face view of how soaked you were. as you remain sat against a fluffed pillow, you gulp at the sight of the demon - licking his lips, forked tongue baring out a single fang the more his mouth stretches opens. within a second, he lolls out his long tongue before getting a sweet taste of your soppy pussy. you whimper, the texture of his pink muscle makes you shiver. “mhm,” he grunts, the low vibrations tickling against you.

but you start to feel an extra tongue glide against your soddened folds. voluntarily, your back arches and you heard a loud slurp before meeting the view of one of his broad hands.

you remember sukuna telling you how he had tongues on … certain other places of his body.

he’s told you about his stomach but never his hands. “s- sukuna,” you whimper, the texture feeling frigidly cold. it tickles at first, his clammy hand smearing back and forth against your cunt. “fuck, fuuuuck,” and your head leans back, all types of emotions foiling at your brain. and your irises slowly became docile. both slippery tongues were forked, long, and slimy. you shudder the entire time, gasping in long exaggerated breaths as your thighs try to stick together from the growing heat. “gonna cum, ‘kuna. ‘m not gonna last.”

“yes you are,” he snarls in correction, the mixture of two fat tongues diverting against your clit sends you pangs of obscene rapture.

he hums in amusement at the sight of your back and how it effortlessly arches for him and only him. another one of his hands creeps between your legs, plucking them open some more. his words were dangerously husky, they stirred something inside the empty depths of your tummy, making you pulse. speaking of, he feels the crazed pulse throb against each tongue, and his slurps become more carnal. “my, what a sloppy cunt. the audacity to be touchin’ her though is beyond me, little one,” and you could hear the possessiveness lingering off his tongue.

within each slurp, suck, and suckle—you just knew it was impossible to last. the stimulation of both concluding muscles against your folds makes you go further and further toward the edge. you’re so close that you could almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. sugary sweet with a sprinkle of saltiness. “sukunaaa,” you whimper, too weak to even pull at his hair.

you were at his very mercy - one of his favorite things in the world. the way you’d murmur out his name in that sweet pathetic voice, a desperate cry for more.

but alas, your words would always fall on deaf ears. he’d edge you ‘till the end, until you’re begging. with your legs feeling like practical mush, your jaw tightens before he finally lets you finish on both jarring tongues. “you’re so dramatic,” he grouses with a scowl, allowing you to conclude at your climax, heaving large breaths every few seconds. even though it was just minutes, with sukuna, he made anything seem like orgasmic long hours. “good girl, thaaaat’s it.”

and he moves his mouth away, allowing his hand tongue to do the remainder of the cleaning. the sensation was unlike anything you’ve felt before. you whimper, achy pipes in your throat all scratchy and hoarse from how vocal you were just a few moments ago. the tongue that rests against his palm sucks you clean—it’s more tender and gentle and you’re a stammering mess, secretly adapting to the strange yet pleasurable feeling..

you’re still trying to recollect breaths, invisible glue sticks and glosses between your legs before you glance up at sukuna who’s got a sly smile. “w- what’s with the look?”

“oh, nothing,” the demon retorts wittily, leaning up to press a soft kiss against your neck. his touch made you shiver and you wrap your arms around him almost instantly.

his cologne as always, was loud and made its name known across the entire room. leaning up against your ear, he licks it - which turns into seductive nibbles before he whispers. “i was just thinking. i think you’d prefer my stomach tongue a lot more, princess. i promise i’ll try not to swallow ya, heh.”

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞

❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞

✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader

✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)

✧ w/c: 8,939

You were a pretty little thing. 

That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you? 

You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room. 

The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him. 

“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?” 

“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?” 

“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?” 

Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—” 

Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—” 

You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?” 

Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,” 

“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,” 

Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different. 

And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence. 

“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?” 

“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead. 

And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too. 

“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself. 

You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough. 

You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.” 

And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,” 

You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened. 

“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,” 

“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs. 

And that was your first time meeting Sukuna. 

But far from your last.  

The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.

You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open. 

“You want another drink, Choso?” 

“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small. 

“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips. 

“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Uh—“ 

“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence. 

“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face. 

“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?” 

And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—

“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?” 

“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna. 

And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either. 

The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him. 

“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to. 

“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,” 

“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?” 

You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?” 

He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down. 

“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“ 

There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves. 

You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.” 

He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it,  “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”

You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone. 

A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,” 

You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,” 

“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing. 

“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort. 

“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?” 

You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?” 

And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,” 

“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?” 

“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms. 

“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you. 

“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?” 

And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—

The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna. 

“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso. 

Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?” 

And now he had visited you in your dreams too. 

“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?” 

And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants. 

“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“ 

“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,” 

And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles. 

“Now you’re getting it, baby.” 

And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream. 

“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” 

Yes, you have done a good job. Until now. 

You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in? 

And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out. 

“Had” being the operative word. 

It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep. 

And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you). 

“What are you talking about?” 

And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked. 

Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door. 

You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke. 

“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”

No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real. 

“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer. 

“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed. 

No, it was more of a curse. 

“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass. 

“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,” 

“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his. 

“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—

SLAM! 

You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you. 

“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,” 

“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?” 

“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word. 

You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”

And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning. 

But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.

Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while. 

Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—” 

“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?” 

Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,” 

“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,” 

“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much? 

“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful. 

“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?” 

“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet. 

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle. 

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers. 

You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts. 

“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?” 

And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself. 

So you don’t.  

You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,” 

And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here. 

And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much. 

Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh. 

“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?” 

He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,” 

“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,” 

Wait. What? 

And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still. 

Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind. 

And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own. 

Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close. 

“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,” 

“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?” 

You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts. 

“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits. 

“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl. 

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together. 

But you couldn’t. Not without him. 

“Sukuna—“ 

“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“ 

“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them. 

And he smiles all the same. 

“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,” 

“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets. 

“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,” 

You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“ 

“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants. 

And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,” 

You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue. 

“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt. 

“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb. 

“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,” 

And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek. 

He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers. 

“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open. 

“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“ 

“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,” 

His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit. 

“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy. 

You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet. 

You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,” 

You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open. 

And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside. 

You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“ 

“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,” 

And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit. 

He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt. 

He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth. 

“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together. 

Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.  

Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”

You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“ 

“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in. 

God, fuck. 

Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt. 

He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you. 

It was only the first. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy. 

“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—” and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning. 

“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,” 

he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”

You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear. 

“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,” 

You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.

“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant. 

“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit,  “I’m—” 

And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—

You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load. 

His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in. 

“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you. 

“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.” 

The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?” 

“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but 

You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick. 

And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you. 

“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around. 

“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips. 

Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg. 

“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,” 

“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence. 

Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna. 

“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night. 

“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line,  “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.

“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,” 

“She’s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder. 

“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,” 

And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you. 

“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all. 

Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place. 

“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?��� 

“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?” 

“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh. 

“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful. 

“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.” 

“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle. 

“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.” 

“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt. 

“Want me to prove it?” 

And oh, he would. Again and again. 

✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?

✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial

[dark-and-kawaii]

(⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) ♡ ♡ ♡

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.