#Relinquishing Desires | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pure-smut · 3 months ago

Text

infatuated.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, size kink, Sukuna has a huge dick (obvs), riding, obsessive behaviour from Sukuna at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.8k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Ryomen Sakuna is well-known around campus – big, brutish, the most arrogant man to walk the planet. But if whispers amongst the girls were anything to go by, he’s also a damn good fuck.

It’s why you, fresh off the anti-climactic evaporation of a sub-par situationship that had no right to make you feel as glum as you do, have the sudden desire to fuck Sukuna.

You’re in a club, drowning your sorrows with your friends, when you lock eyes with him across the room. It’s not hard – he’s a head and a half taller than everyone else. But he doesn’t look away. And, you realise, neither do you.

Yeah, he might be a walking red flag. Yeah, you might be bitter and sad over a failed not-relationship. But it’s not like you’re fucking his personality, right? Just one good night. Just one really, really good fuck. Then you can wake up tomorrow, satisfied and ready to move on.

You down your drink and stalk over to him. Time to put those whispers to the test. *

Okay, maybe there’s some truth to the rumours.

One quick drink and a cab ride later, Sukuna has you on his lap, straddling his thighs as you make out on his sofa. He’s so big your legs are basically spread for him already, slotted on either side of his thighs as his hands grope your ass shamelessly.

He didn’t say much to you when you asked him to come home with you. Only a grin played on his lips as he grabbed your hand and said, “No. You’re coming to mine.”

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser though. Your hands card through the pink hair at the nape of his neck as he slides his tongue over yours. Even with you on top of him, you know he’s actually the one in control. He dictates the pace, the speed, everything. Where your previous situationship had demanded that you do all the work, this relinquishing of control feels good. Freeing. You melt into it and into him, pressing your chest against his.

When Sukuna feels you relax, he pushes your dress up past your hips. One large finger hooks onto your panties from behind, pulling them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he dips his free finger between your folds, checking how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden feel of his calloused finger but Sukuna quickly swallows it. At the feel of your slick arousal, his cock throbs.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, pulling his mouth back only slightly. “Just from kissing?”

Your cheeks burn but you’re distracted by a thick finger prodding your entrance. You gasp lightly and push your hips back, seeking more. Sukuna chuckles.

“I knew you were needy when you threw yourself at me tonight but still…” He grins. “You really do need a good fuck.”

“S-shut up,” you manage to stammer out but Sukuna only laughs.

He withdraws his hand and you have to supress a whine. Instead he undoes his jeans and pulls his cock free. It slaps against your stomach, hard and hot. When you look down at it, your eyes widen. Sukuna smirks – he always loves the look a girl gives him when she sees his cock for the first time.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s so big, you want to say but you don’t want to feed his ego any more than necessary.

“That’s why you’re on top, baby.” Sukuna gives an easy grin. “You probably won’t be able to take it all so just do whatever you can.”

His condescending tone makes you frown. You jut your chin out defiantly. Oh, I’ll take it all, you think to yourself. Smug bastard.

You raise your hips, hovering over his fat mushroom tip. You’re already wet but he hasn’t even fingered you to prep you so you know you need to go slow. But determination courses through you. Sukuna watches you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, as you look down in concentration. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulders as you leverage yourself. The stretch is immense but it’s delicious too – a heady mix of burning pleasure. Sukuna puts his hands behind his head, a self-assured smile on his lips as he watches you. He loves this part – loves watching girls struggle to fit him inside them. It makes his ego swell as much as his cock.

You manage a few inches before you have to stop, sweat already glazing your brow. You reach down to play with your clit, making yourself as wet as possible. Sukuna bites his bottom lip as he watches you play with yourself, a third of his cock buried inside you. You feel him throb and it only spurs you on, your pussy drooling around him, stretching to accommodate him.

“You look pretty fucking hot like this,” Sukuna admits, bringing one hand forward to grope your tit. “You need some help, baby?”

You’re too busy concentrating to speak so you give a short nod. Sukuna tweaks your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in a way that shoots sparks through your whole body. You tip your head back and gasp, feeling yourself tumbling closer to an orgasm. Even though he’s not fully inside you, his cock is managing to rub against your walls in a way that makes your eyes rolls back.

Sukuna has to admit he’s enjoying himself. The sight of you making yourself cum on his cock is pornographic and your pussy is squeezing him so tight. He has to fight to urge not to thrust up. Instead, he roughly plays with your tits, enjoying the way your nipples stiffen under his touch. Your body is so responsive to him, so ready for him. Your gummy walls massage his cock in a way that makes him want to go feral. Every muscle in his body is taut as a bowstring, restraining himself.

You open your eyes to see the hunger in his face, a notch between his brows and his lips slightly parted, eyes intense. A thrill runs up your spine. You want to see him hungrier.

Still rubbing your clit, you lower your hips and sink further onto his cock. This time, you’re able to take a few more inches, your pussy enveloping him tightly. Sukuna can’t stop himself from moaning this time, your plush walls hugging him. His hands drop to your hips, holding them with an iron grip.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

You’re taking him better than he thought you would. You’re two-thirds down, your lips gripping him as though you don’t want him to leave. Nevertheless, you slowly bob up and down, never fully withdrawing. The sensitive head of his cock rubs a euphoric friction against your walls, making you both moan contentedly. Sukuna half wants to stay like this forever, never leaving the hot, soft grip of your sweet pussy. The other half of him wants to pin you down and make a mess of your insides, painting your pussy white with his cum.

Your fingers pick up speed against your clit. The combination of Sukuna’s girth stretching your hole and your fingers rubbing your sensitive bud are bringing you close to the edge. You’ve nearly taken him all and you know you can do more – you just need to cum first to loosen up.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Sukuna groans, his grip on your hips tightening to stop himself from bucking his hips. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.”

And so you do. You bounce up and down until your legs cramp, but even then, you ignore it and keep going. You rub tight circles on your clit, the way you know you like, and throw your head back in an silent scream.

“Fuck… fuck!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes through you, curling your toes and arching your back.

Sukuna watches you, his eyes flicking down to your pussy to watch your juices run down his cock. He’s almost painfully hard, teased to the brink of his own orgasm. When girls can’t take him all, he usually waits for them to finish on him before getting them to suck him off, bringing him to a finish in their mouth.

But you…

When you come down from riding your high, there’s a spark of defiance in your eyes. You plant your hands on his shoulders and, locking eyes with him, you sink your hips down until your thighs meet his.

Sukuna’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. He looks down to see you joined together, his cock fully buried inside you.

You’ve taken all of him.

“Fuuucck.” Sukuna groans long and loud, the new sensation of his cock being fully enveloped almost making him cum right then and there.

You grin, a sense of accomplishment spurring you on. Your legs are still sore so you grind against him instead, leaning forward to suck sweet kisses on his neck.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna buries his fingers even deeper into your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your pussy is addictive. Sukuna wants to live here like this, fully sheathed inside you as your soft, hot walls milk his cock. He’s never known this sensation before, this delicious heat as your bodies fully connect. Your plush ass nestled against his thighs, your clit rubbing against him as you grind, your lips wrapped around him to the base of his cock. Fuck. You’re incredible, he thinks.

“Cum inside me, Sukuna,” you whimper in his ear.

You don’t need to tell him twice. Sukuna growls animalistically, burying his face in your neck as his cock throbs once. Twice.

You feel him explode inside you, hot, sticky cum coating your walls. You keep grinding until he’s done, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s only when you make to move away, to pull your puffy pussy away from his cock that he hardens his grip on you again.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he captures your lips in a deep kiss. It’s a surprise but a pleasant one – you didn’t take Sukuna for someone who kissed after sex. You make out for a while, his cum leaking out around his softening cock. It’s only when your thighs are slick with both of your juices that you pull away again.

“Thanks, Sukuna.” You smile at him. “I needed that.”

You hop off his lap, satisfied. To you, the plan worked. You’re content and ready to move on from your shitty situationship.

But Sukuna has never cum inside anyone before. Never been able to. Never met anyone who could take all of him. He watches you pad away to the bathroom to clean up, humming happily. You might be going home tonight, content and oblivious, but something dark stirs inside Sukuna. He knows he’s never letting you go.

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#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut

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hermajestyimher · 3 months ago

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The key is to NEVER idolize a man or a group of men. I'm going to need you to stand up, take a few deep breaths, and compose yourself. Do you realize how bad you look thirsting or worrying about whether or not you are desired by a man of any kind? You represent female royalty, it is in a sane man's best interest to gain access to YOU, not the other way around. You relinquish all your power and leverage the moment you let the spirit of desperation make you pursue after ANY man. At that point the spirits of foolishness and clownery may also be involved.

You shouldn't idolize anyone but God, and when it comes to who to put on a pedestal, it should always be the best version of yourself. Look after other high-value women who can teach you things and help you grow into that ideal version of yourself. Decenter men from your life and understand that they come as a nice masculine additive to our lives, don't ever think that they are the thing that should keep us awake at night. You are the one who is coveted and wanted by them, never the other way around. There is no shortage of desirable men who are after us. Read that again.

#things ive learned #level up journey #growth mindset

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milswrites · 5 months ago

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Sweetened Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Dream Weaver Fem!Reader

Summary: Having access to the people of Velaris' dreams was a gift you did not take for granted. Having access to your mate's heated dreams? Absolutely delicious.

Warnings: 18 + mdni (f oral, p in v, sex dreams).

Word count: 2.6k

You watched on from the balcony as rosy fingered dawn made her appearance. The warm light of the morning sun bled into the horizon, casting an amber glow over the sleeping streets of Velaris.

It was early — far too early for you to be awake on your day off. And yet, despite the remnants of drowsiness which still lingered in your system, you found yourself incapable of succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

Rather, you welcomed the gentle breeze of the morning air as it kissed your reddened cheeks on the balcony of your home, the wind working to quell the heated blush which had risen in the wake of your untimely stirring.

You were no stranger to being awake at unreasonable hours — it was the gruelling nature of your job. Gifting dreams to the slumbering citizens of the Night Court. Yet, in all your years of working, never had you been disturbed by another person's dreams as you rested. Not until now.

The soft, lingering touches as his gentle hands explored your curves.

The salacious cry of pleasure which slipped from his parted lips.

The mouth-watering drag of his hips languidly meeting your own.

Azriel was dreaming.

Dreaming of you.

The sensuous image of Azriel's lustful fantasy, alongside the blinding wave of arousal being passed down the bond, was enough to leave you flushed. Dawn's cool air provided you with no respite from your mate's titillating thoughts as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer with each minute passed.

The heated kiss of his soft lips trailing across the sensitive skin of your neck.

The grounding touch of his calloused hands laced between your own.

The desperate groan which followed each passionate thrust he delivered.

It was impossible to block him out — whatever meagre control you once held over your magic had since been relinquished. Unable to change the course of his temptuous dream, your mind focussed solely on the primal surge of your mate's pleasure as it travelled down the bond. Finding every ounce of him overwhelming — your swirling thoughts were consumed by Azriel, and Azriel alone.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Lost in the haze of the male's lustful vision, images of his mouth latched onto your skin caused a pleasant warmth to pool between your legs. Desire rising in your chest, you failed to notice that Azriel's dream had ceased. The familiar hum of your unruly magic had long since subsided and yet, even in the absence of its presence, your amorous thoughts remained solely on him.

Absorbed by the insatiable pulse of your growing hunger, you startled as the low voice of your mate called out from behind you. The remnants of sleep clinging on to Azriel's words as he huskily uttered, "my love, do you ever rest?"

"The city is sleeping, and so I'm awake," you answered simply, pausing for a moment as your mate's tender hands came to wrap around your middle — Azriel's welcoming warmth enveloping you as his chest firmly pressed against your back. You released a small sigh of contentment at his action, your head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you continued, "when you sleep, your . . . thoughts -" Azriel's nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a wave of pleasure washing over your body as his soft hum urged you to continue, "-they're quite loud."

A low sound of amusement rumbled in Azriel's chest at your words. Yet, the male's efforts remained focussed on leaving a trail of languidly placed kisses along the expanse of your neck, until — finally — the ghost of his heated breath enticingly blew against your ear as the Shadowsinger confessed, "I was dreaming about you."

You were helpless in stopping the quiet moan which slipped from your lips as Azriel gently tugged you closer towards him, goosebumps rising on your skin as the light touch of his growing member brushed tantalisingly against your back. Breathless, you replied, "I know . . . I saw it."

"And was this your doing?" Azriel enquired, a small cry of frustration escaping your mouth as the male halted his sensuous actions. His teasing lips torturously hovering over the sweet spot on your neck as he continued to press, "have you been blessing my dreams again, my love?"

"Not this time," you answered truthfully. Whilst soothing Azriel's restless slumber and unsettling nightmares came naturally to you, never have you had the courage to bless your mate's dreams with the sweetness that he was referring to, "those thoughts were yours alone."

"A pity," Azriel concluded, the male lessening the grip of his arms around your waist as he devilishly smirked down at your faltering expression, "I suppose if you've already seen it, I needn't provide you with a demonstration — oh, but what a sweet dream it was."

You pouted at the absence of Azriel's searing touch as you turned to face the male. Your hand moving to slowly graze your mate's bare chest as you lifted your playful gaze to meet his darkened eyes, "now that you mention it . . . I may need a reminder of exactly what it was that I saw."

"Is that so?" the Shadowsinger asked with a raised brow, his wings twitching with a mind of their own as he noted the pleasant shift in your honeyed scent.

"Hmm . . . how did it start again?" you mused, an alluring smile working its way onto your face as you moved your lips to lightly brush against his own, Azriel's breath catching in his throat at your teasing contact as you seductively whispered, "like this?"

"Actually," Azriel's wandering hands slipped down to meet the back of your thighs, the male swiftly lifting you up into his arms as he began to retreat back into the comforting warmth of your bedroom. The promise of a fulfilling morning upon his lips as he purred, "I think it began with my head between your legs."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The experienced swipe of his salacious tongue against your slick.

The cooling bliss of his restless shadows as they moved to explore the soft contours of your writhing body.

The heated lust in his sultry gaze as he worked to keep his sight on your hooded eyes.

Azriel devoured you like a man starved.

And yet, despite the fervent nature of his actions, your mate's passion was delivered with an air of intimacy. The Shadowsinger's gentle hands moving to lace between your own as he softly groaned in satisfaction against your dripping sex.

It was almost too much to bear — your back arching from the bed in response to the carnal swipe of Azriel's tongue against your pulsing heat. A low whine falling from your lips as the male contentedly lapped up the taste of your sweetened arousal.

You mewled when Azriel turned his attention towards your clit, your mouth parting breathlessly as the male lazily trailed small circles around your aching bud. Gripping his hands tighter, you helplessly bucked against his face, your eyes closing in ecstasy as you lowly begged for more.

It was utter bliss.

Your senses were wholly consumed by your mate as he eagerly worked to bring you to completion, each delicious movement succeeding in ebbing away the last dregs of drowsiness which still remained from your early wakening.

Yet, your feeling of intense pleasure was gone all too soon, Azriel having pulled away just as you were on the precipice of your high. Groaning at the absence of his heated touch, your eyes fluttered open to meet your mate's mischievous gaze, a matching smirk etched onto his handsome face.

A lucky female indeed.

"Is this stirring your memory yet, my love?" Azriel crooned, the male slowly crawling up the length of your body until his swollen lips came to brush against your own. That same glint of unbridled mischief reflecting in your own eyes as you hummed your reply, "possibly . . ." Your hand leisurely trailed down Azriel's chest until it came to rest upon his hardened cock, "but I may need a little reminder of what came next."

A frenzied growl broke from Azriel's throat at your action, the male's eyes growing dark with lust before he finally sealed his lips against your own.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The kiss was searing — a passionate clash of tongues and teeth. Your mouths moved together in a wondrous synchrony as the two of you sought to sate your growing desire.

You were insatiable; wanting nothing more than to be consumed by all Azriel had to offer.

His sweetened scent.

His delectable taste.

His heated touch.

Every last inch of him was intoxicating.

You needed your fix of him, and so, desperate to quell the pulsing ache which had risen in your core at his fervid touch, you impatiently rolled your hips against his own. A feverish moan spilling from your lips as the head of Azriel's leaking cock brushed tantalisingly against your dripping folds.

Softly chuckling at your growing frustration, Azriel playfully nipped at the push skin on your lips as he pulled away from the kiss. Admiration pooling in your mate's hazel eyes, he stole a moment to take in the radiance of your morning glow. His once darkened gaze softening as it swept over your heavenly features, the male's mouth parted in awe as he quietly asked, "am I still dreaming?"

You blushed at the innocence of Azriel's question, your hand moving to lovingly rest against your mate's face as your thumb began to gently caress his pinkish cheeks. A soothing smile crossing your lips, you replied with a question of your own, "and what would you do if you were still dreaming?"

Azriel lent forwards, the heated touch of his breath softly tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he purred, "I would do this." The male placed a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck, your body quivering with anticipation as he began to trail his mouth lower. "And this," he uttered, sweetly placing another kiss onto the curve of your breast. "And also this," he finished, his lips moving to ghost over your pert nipple. Azriel's mouth parted into a soft 'o' as the male lightly blew onto your stiffened peak, a warm smile stretching across his face before his swollen lips finally came to close around your breast.

Sighing in bliss, you arched into the male's touch, your body writhing underneath his own as he delicately sucked at your tender skin. "Is that all?" you taunted breathlessly as Azriel moved his mouth to tend to your other breast, whining as your mate teasingly rolled his tongue around your peaked nipple.

Yet, the wondrous sensation which had risen from your mate's salacious kisses did nothing to sate your ever-growing desire. And so, needing more, you ground yourself against the male's hardened cock — your eyes heavy with want as you urged him to act.

So Azriel did. A soft cry spilling from your lips as the male slowly pushed his cock into your pulsing heat, your mate euphorically mumbling into your skin as he did so, "gods, you're perfect... my beautiful, beautiful mate."

You flushed at both his sweetened words and the pleasant feeling of his cock as he fully sheathed himself inside you. A languorous moan emitted past your lips as he stretched you fully; the sound turning into one of incredulous frustration as your mate failed to move. Locking your legs around his waist, you impatiently ground your hips against his, asking — no begging — the male for more. "Eager little thing," Azriel whispered as he began to move his hips at a torturously slow pace, "let me enjoy you, my love."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was impossible for Azriel to look away; his drunken gaze lust-filled and half-lidded as the male fought against his growing pleasure to keep his eyes locked on you.

On the delectable bounce of your plush breasts as they followed the slow rhythm of his passionate thrusts.

On the darkness which had consumed your irises as lust and desire took hold of your gaze.

On the shape of your parted lips as you let out sweet sounds of pleasure as you milked his warmed cock.

If this were a dream, then Azriel wished never to wake — the male longing to stay in his slumber forever, so as to memorise every intricate detail of your face.

Craving a more intimate connection, Azriel entwined his hands with your own, his face moving to burrow into the curve of your neck before softened words of love and adoration began to tumble from your mate's awestruck lips.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he quickened his pace, the male chasing after the addicting high of his release. His heart pounding at the way you clenched around his cock as your own organism grew nearer. And it was there, the sweet sound of your mewling slowly working to coax your mate's eyes open, that Azriel once more bore witness to your ethereal glow.

A bright warmth radiated from your skin, the soft light reflecting in Azriel's reverential gaze. It was as though you had been blessed by the stars themselves; your skin holding a golden lustre which made you look utterly irresistible.

You were a gift.

To Prythian.

To Velaris.

To Azriel.

Basking in the light of your other-worldly power, Azriel's grip on your hands tightened as he continued his bruising rhythm, his wings twitching as he took in your godly form beneath him. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped your lips at the male's deep strokes, his fervent passion succeeding in tipping you over the edge of bliss as the heated wave of your orgasm finally washed over you.

Guided by your glowing light, Azriel continued to chase after his own release. The male's thrusts grew desperate as he moved deeper and deeper inside of you with each stroke delivered. Until finally, Azriel reached his own high. The low tones of his frenzied groan reaching your ears as your mate came undone, ribbons of his white hot cum painting your walls as he did so.

You both lay there for a moment, the weight of Azriel's chest heaving against your own as the two of you fought to catch your breaths.

Stealing a moment to bask in the peaceful silence of dawn, you admired the male's post-sex glow. The glistening sheen of his sweat-soaked brow, the delicate curl of his tousled hair, the satisfied smile which lazily stretched across his swollen lips.

It was difficult to believe that Azriel was real and not simply a conjuring of your own imagination — a manifestation of your sweetest dreams. Yet, the grounding touch of his hands clasped between yours reminded you that this was real; that he was real.

It was only when the crushing wave of your highs had subsided, and the golden glow of your shimmering skin had dwindled, did Azriel then then pull himself from you. The male slumping onto the bed by your side, his large wings dropping in fatigue before he pulled you into the the warm embrace of his arms.

Softly sighing at the cool touch of his wandering shadows which still trailed across the length of your heated skin, you began to tease, "Was that everything you dreamed of then?"

"Everything and more," Azriel replied, his thumb working to rub small circles into your hip as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck once more, the male placing a gentle kiss onto your skin before he continued, "what a lucky male I am, to have had my dreams turned into reality by a being as beautiful as you."

You blushed at his words, amazed at the effect that the male still had on you even after years of being together. Glowing in domestic bliss, you answered, "perhaps I may have to start blessing your dreams myself if this is the treatment I'll receive. A good morning, indeed."

Azriel sleepily chuckled into your shoulder at your reply, his bright eyes finding yours before he warmly stated, "It's always a good morning when I wake to the sight of the sun between my arms."

Notes: so I'm back on the writing grind (hopefully)! I have a few more ideas for this pairing so let me know if you want to see more of them! Thank you to @itsswritten and @writingcroissant for sparking this idea and to @sarawritestories , @ninthcircleofprythian and @daycourtofficial for dealing with my mental breakdowns whilst I wrote this lol.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses

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ghelgheli · 8 months ago

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i would actually like to hear more of your thoughts on whipping girl, whenever you feel ready enough to talk about it. i've only ever heard positive recommendations for it. i was thinking of reading it. i've read one or two introductory 101 texts on transmisogyny as well as some medium/substack posts, and always looking to read more as a tme person. ty!

thanks for asking! I'm gonna try to be concise because I'm stuck on my phone for the month, but here are my thoughts on whipping girl:

serano is at her strongest in the book in three areas: manifestations of transmisogyny in media (e.g. how trans caricatures pervade movies), the history of medical institutions developing a pathology of transsexuality (like the diagnostics of blanchard et al. or how trans people seeking healthcare were and continue to be forced into acting out prescribed expressions and manufacturing memories), and the construction of her own transition narrative (telling the reader what it was like for her to grow up desiring femininity in a way that confused her, the experience of crossdressing, the effects of hrt for her)

whenever she's just sticking to this, I think she effectively communicates a lot that the unaware reader could benefit from—even many trans women/transfems/tma people who are otherwise in tune with the history of medicalized transsexualism and our popular depictions could probably benefit from her own personal narrative, by nature of how variegated our experiences can be.

unfortunately I think the book fails at its primary—stated—goal, which is to theorize about transmisogyny. in the big picture this is a bifurcated failure:

on one branch of her argument, she remains committed to there being something biologically essential/innate about gender. this manifests thru multiple claims: that we have "innate inclinations" toward masculinity/femininity and "subconscious sex" rather than what I believe, which is that the latter are constructed categories imposed on different matrices of behaviour/expression/desire in different cultural contexts; that there is "definitely a biological component to gender" (close paraphrase) after a discussion of how she believes E and T tend to affect people (thus equivocating gender with dominant hormones!); that we have such a thing as "physical sex" which is the composition of our culturally decided "sex characteristics" (don't ask me how the dividing line is drawn) even as she says we should stop using "biological sex" as a term; that there is "no harm" in agreeing that "sex" is largely bimodal with some exceptions; that social constructionism is necessarily erasure of transsexual experiences in early childhood... altogether she is unwilling to relinquish arguments about the partial "innateness" of femininity/masculinity and gender. this is at tension with her admission on several occasions that these are neither culturally/geographically nor temporally stable concepts! but that doesn't seem to be a line she can follow thru on.

on another, intertwining branch, she engages in what I think is a deep and widespread mistake in the theorizing of transmisogyny: reducing it (mechanistically) to what she calls effemimania* or essentially anti-femininity. it is her stated thesis at the start that masculinity is universally preferred to femininity. she doesn't offer a definition of either term until one of the final chapters, where she defines them as the behaviours and expressions associated with a particular gender. but I think this reduction just misunderstands transmisogyny. it is even in tension with an observation she makes early on, that trans women are often punished for their perceived masculinity! but again, this is a thought she seems unable or unwilling to follow thru with.

my problem with the thesis is that masculinity and femininity do not float free of gender—it is not possible to speak of their valuation in the abstract. anyone who grew up as a masculine cis girl and never "grew out" of that "phase" can attest to the violence wrought upon expressions of masculinity from women. and this applies doubly so to the subjects of transmisogyny! not only are we punished for any perceived bleed-through of masculinity from our supposed "underlying male selves", those of us who are willingly masculine and thriving as mascs are punished for our failure to conform to the rules of the normative womanhood that is imposed on us (just as we are punished for any willing femininity as "false" and predatory upon cis womanhood—observe that transmisogyny is reactive degendering in every case!).

on both branches serano makes only perfunctory remarks about the intersections with race, class, and colonialism. "sex" as such was made to only be accessible to the "civilized", most of all the white european! for a racialized person and particularly a Black person navigating gender the waters are just not the same; the signifiers of sex neither available in the same way, nor granted the same medical legitimacy. what is the "physical sex" of someone who is de-sexed altogether? how can gender have a "biologically innate" component when its expressions between the bourgeoisie and the working class are at total odds with one another? this all goes for the masculine/feminine distinctions as well. what sense is there in the claim that we have innately masculine/feminine inclinations when globally (and transmisogyny has been made global!) what is feminine and masculine can be very nearly mirrored? nor is "masculinity is always considered superior to femininity" innocent of obviating race. transmisogynoir adds yet further degendering thru the coercive masculinization of someone as a Black woman—masculinization as punishment, again!

and as a final point, the account fails to be materialist. there is no attempt to place transmisogyny in its role as an instrument of political economy or, as jules gill-peterson might say, as a tool of statecraft. it is just a psychological response to the way the world is, as far as serano has anything to say about it. but how did the world become that way, and why?? serano's solution, the abolition of what she calls gender entitlement, is naive to the fact that gender entitlement is necessary to the maintenance of the capitalist state, which is structured thru patriarchy and built on colonialism. it is not possible to reskin this into something innocuous!

this is why I cannot recommend whipping girl as a work about transmisogyny except at the most shallow level. it could be a helpful critical read, but imo, it is just wrong about transmisogyny.

#ask answer #whipping girl #text

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multifandomme · 1 month ago

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A Dangerous Game

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha is forced to admit that her feelings for you, an escort, are far more than transactional.

Genre: Smut, (mommy kink, power dynamics, exhibitionism vibes, semi-public sex, pet names, praise kink, light degrading, strap ons, fingering), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 3k.

A/N: This is a gift for @ionlylikemarvelforthewomen as it's her favourite fic.

This piece is for day 7 of kinktober under the 'semi-public sex' prompt. This is a new and modified version of a fic I wrote in 2022.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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“You’re so tense.”

A brief silence engulfed the lavish hotel room, your adept fingers digging further into the canyon that separated Natasha’s shoulder blades, softened grunts escaping her.

“Yeah,” she scoffed, her expression disgruntled due to the pain that materialised from your attempt at reducing the knots that hardened her muscles. “That’s not the only place.”

Natasha sighed loudly as you released her from your grasp, jogging her shoulders to assure that you had been steadfast in your endeavours. Over the last few months, Natasha’s visits had fluctuated to the point of concern, appearing at this same hotel room more than thrice a week.

You couldn’t complain, Natasha a model client, respectful, obedient and left your pockets brimming with wads of cash. Knowing so little about her didn’t help stymie your overriding worry for her and for yourself, a bizarre kind of comfort surrounding you whenever her presence was near. You could not place the feeling, nor begin to describe it, though you did know that whatever it was that you had felt could only spell danger, territories that were better left unexplored.

“You know, you should probably find a better outlet than this,” you advised, the compassion that brimmed in your voice soon passed off as a mindless suggestion. “There’s only so much I can do for you, Natasha.”

Natasha surged upwards, swiftly abandoning her prior position perched on the edge of the bed, the sound of her kissing her teeth in irritation echoing out into the expansiveness of the room. The topic always seemed to incite inflammation, though you were all too wary of becoming too intertwined with a client, knowing the hardships that arose from personal experience.

You had your rules and at first, adhering to them provided no issue, though as the time passed and the frequency of your meetings grew, so did the temptation to shirk the consequences. Thus far, only two rules had withstood the test of time: no personal information that exceeded necessity and no visible markings left behind.

Even with such boundaries in place, Natasha was undeterred, resolute in her pursuit of abandoning the latter. And when the throes of pleasure engulfed her in her entirety, her mind and desires unencumbered, she would beg, plead, do anything to convince you to reconsider your judgement. You had yet to relinquish, though you feared that one day she would reign victorious and break you, at times, you secretly hoped that she would.

“What I want is for you to do your job," she flared, frustratedly, "that is what I pay for, no?"

The smart remark almost triggered the emergence of a chuckle from you, profoundly amused by her ability to implement avoidance tactics whenever this particular topic was called into question. Instead of permitting her the delusion of her ardent denial, you decided to probe further in the hopes of collapsing her walls.

In an effortless manoeuvre, the black silk robe that shrouded your lingerie from view disintegrated into a velvety pool at your feet, Natasha’s gaze possessed with immediacy as you strutted towards her.

“Are you certain that’s all you want?” You interrogated, sultrily, your voice like honey as you attempted to distract her from the daring nature of the question. “I see the way you look at me. This isn’t just a fuck for you and you know it.”

Tenderly, you reached out to trail the soft skin of her cheek with your thumb, the gesture impeded as Natasha batted you away with intent, her guardedness rebuilding itself before you. Without a word, she travelled to the furthest corner of the room, her attention redirected to the cityscapes that lay beyond the window. An audible sigh exuded and you knew that your prodding had instilled a festering sense of doubt inside of her.

“So what if it is more?” Natasha challenged, bluntly, the words falling from her lips as if her inner monologue had accidentally blurted its way out of her mouth, unchecked. “I know what I’m doing,” she assured, though the flickering of her eyes conveyed a distinct uncertainty, as if her lips were speaking of a truth she inherently knew she could not uphold.

The last sentence tugged a quirk from your eyebrows, a smug smile plastering itself across your face as you sauntered over, your lingerie-clad form shadowing hers from behind. Instantly, her breath hitched and the boldness that she donned only seconds prior seemed to ebb away until it had dissipated completely. Your smirk seared into the side of her neck as you attacked her pulse point with softened kisses, delicately as to activate the docility that bubbled just below the surface.

“It’s a dangerous game that you’re playing,” you purred, sexily, your fingers creeping down to cup at her pussy, Natasha’s body tensing in surprise until she surrendered to the glimmer of pleasure that it delivered.

Natasha gasped softly, her legs shifting with heightened impatience as her thighs clamped firmly around your hand to attain further friction.

“I like dangerous games,” Natasha breathed, weakly, and you could tell from the way in which she spoke that her eyes were tight shut, a pliable state beginning its activation.

“Oh, I know, baby,” you whispered, your fingers abandoning her pussy to make quick work of her breasts, the light patronisation in your tone causing her to groan aloud. “But they’re not so fun when you lose, hm?"

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll be so good for you.”

“Kneel,” you barked, authoritatively, pleased to discover her immediate compliance, dropping to the floor without a protest nor a sound.

Natasha’s obedience could not be faulted, revelling in the way she stared intently, her beautiful green eyes glazed over as she awaited your instruction. She would ask and beseech to be debased, which often led you to wondering what she was like in her day to day life, wondered what had shaped her into the quaking mess below you.

“Good girl,” you praised, earnestly, a hand ruffling absentmindedly through her silky locks.

“Thank you, Mommy” Natasha blushed, a feeble smile playing on her lips as her eyes averted to the floor below, a slight glint of apprehension filling her.

“Let’s see that pretty face of yours, hm?”

Orbs of serpentine raised to meet yours, her beauty undeniable as it captivated you with no means of escape. Delicately, you thumbed the apples of her cheeks, noting how a rosy hue began to appear. The deft touches allowed no prior warning as to what would occur next, though Natasha knew, her eyes tight shut as your palm thrashed against her cheek. Scarlet tinged her cheeks with vigour, adrenaline coursing through Natasha’s veins as she simpered, devoid of thought.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she beamed, dumbly as she excitedly braced for another wrecking impact.

But, you had other plans for her.

“Open that pretty mouth for me, angel,” you instructed, flatly, a hum of approval exiting from you as she promptly abided. “I think it’s time that Mommy put it to good use, hm?”

Natasha inwardly ascended at the idea, nodding avidly with her jaw widening at your request, her tongue slipping out from her mouth. She loved to be at your disposal and her features shone with enthralment.

Roughly, you stuffed two digits into her mouth and hummed in extolment as Natasha laved them generously with saliva, swirling her tongue with passion. Her pink lips blossomed into a deep shade of crimson, swollen below her valiant endeavours. The enthusiasm dripped from her, spurring you on as you pushed in further, a spark of bewilderment flecking her stare.

“Such a good girl,” you cooed, retracting your fingers to find a string of saliva dangling, momentarily retaining connection until it fell away.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Natasha enthused, her teeth peeking out to nip softly at her lips, her appetite noticeable, burgeoning.

“Is someone getting needy already?” You probed, knowingly, Natasha’s face flushing with sheer humiliation as she pried her eyes from you in aversion. “Tell Mommy what it is that you want.”

A faltering gulp sounded, a pause of silence prevailing until you drew her chin upward and subsequently forced her into meeting your eye line.

“I want you to fuck me, Mommy,” Natasha divulged, shyly, her blush all but darkening as the words exited her lips. “I want you to take me where everybody can see.”

“What a filthy little slut,” you taunted, unable to bite away the smirk that had subconsciously upturned your lips, more so when you had caught Natasha in a state of utter transfixion, taken by the large windows.

The redhead’s pupils visibly dilated as the fantasies flooded in her mind, robbing her of coherence as she imagined people staring up from the city below and gawking at her nudity, studying her. Unknowingly, a desperate mewl fell from her mouth, her arousal beginning to seep against the material of her underwear.

“Take off your clothes and face the window for Mommy, princess,” you purred, the sound of your voice able to coax her from her state of entrancement. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

The eruption of hasty movement behind you signalled Natasha’s expeditious compliance with your request, barely a minute having gone by before she quietly reappeared, her exquisite form unveiled, bare. Your mouth salivated profusely at the image of her, clearing your throat as a means of regaining the concentration that had been briefly stolen from you.

The remnants of sunset light projecting through the window seemed to encompass her physique in gold, her irises boasting a milder green as she twisted to regard you, praying that you would sate her limitless hunger.

Cautiously, you approached, slowly as if you were stalking prey, only Natasha wanted to be captured, wanted to be devoured with carnal desire. Again, you found your place behind her, the soft silhouette of your black lingerie firmly pressing up against her. Natasha’s nakedness allowed for effortless access, taking her breasts into your hands as you played roughly with them.

Her nipples stiffened instantaneously, perhaps furthered by the slight plummet in temperature her lack of clothing had incited. But she was breathtaking, her head relaxing backwards to bruise against your clavicle, her lips in fatally close proximities.

“It feels so good, Mommy,” she complimented, despite the shakiness of her breath, her eyes settling to a close. “I want more of you, I need it.

The encouragement that she had offered was not lost on you, and only invigorated you with a heightened sense of accomplishment. Your hand trailed downwards, snake-like, the obstruction of her underwear no longer stymying your efforts as you made immediate contact with her delicate flesh.

What had greeted you had racked you with genuine surprise, her arousal leaking languidly as you gathered it amongst your digits. Natasha sighed in annoyance as you quickly retreated from her, though her eyes became instantly restored with anticipation when you dangled the glistening fingers before her mouth.

“You’re dripping, princess,” you whispered as you sank your fingers into her mouth to be cleaned. “What a desperate little slut and all for me.”

Natasha cried out in response, the sound ebbing out into a lustful moan the minute your hand returned to where she needed it the most. She bucked sporadically, the volume of her protests only intensifying as you continued to prolong her suffering, rejoicing in it.

“Please, Mommy,” she pleaded, her voice no louder than a softened whisper, her energy dwindling along with her patience. “I need you inside of me.”

Her pitiful pleas rang out like music to your ears, your free hand wrapping around her from behind to secure itself around her throat. Fixed in place, Natasha’s motion was thwarted, every trace of control stolen from her. A frenzied jolt reverberated through her as she felt you align your fingers against her pussy, an all-encompassing tremor claiming her when you finally slipped inside.

As you thrust steadily inside of her, you scattered her porcelain neck with pecks, occasionally delivering an aimless bite as she panted. The lewd sounds that emitted as your fingers buried inside of her filled the vicinity, echoing, your addiction to her only reaching new heights. And just when you suspected that Natasha was approaching an orgasm, you removed all contact from her.

“Bend over for me, angel,” you insisted, a devious expression lurking upon your features. “Let Mommy see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Natasha obliged, her cheeks hued scarlet, palms pressed to the glass of the window as she presented her exposed pussy to you. Arousal splayed the area around it, fluttering as it clenched around the absence of your fingers. The woman groaned exasperatedly as you prodded her from behind, a probing digit stuffing itself inside of her just to feel the way she constricted desperately around it. She wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, you knew that.

“Do you want to cum, princess?” You asked, mockingly, the evidence staring you in the face as she quivered lightly, her face disgruntled in displeasure at being denied.

“Yes, Mommy,” she sobbed out, her head knocking against the glass, her shallow breaths tainting its clarity with translucent condensation. “Please, please.”

Hastily, you raced to collect her favourite toy but not before landing a quick slap against her ass, earning a squeal from Natasha. In the silence, Natasha could hear the sound of you securing the harness around you, her eyes peering around from her position as she stole a sneaky preview. You could almost see her pushing up to her tiptoes in preparation, her breasts squashed against the window for all to see. Her zeal was unrivalled.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” You praised, noticing the way she had modified her position, your hands ghosting her sides until they settled in firmly against her hipbones.

“Yes Mommy,” Natasha acceded, delightedly, her palms spread as she gripped the window with a harsher force, readying for what was inevitable. “I’m your good girl.”

The tip of your strap on slid against her pussy as you teased her, before its entire length disappeared into her warmth. Natasha collapsed forward, saved only by the sturdiness of her arms as her breasts rocked methodically against the glass. You held her in place with an unyielding grip around the back of her neck, erratic breaths of oxygen spring from her as she adjusted to the intrusion, delighted in the sensations that it activated.

“Oh, mhm,” Natasha moaned, shamelessly, the volume exceeding anything you had procured from her to date as she assisted you in rutting against the toy, taking it deeper than you had thought possible.

“You like that, princess?” You growled, breathlessly, tightening your grasp upon her until a brute force incurred. “Do you like it when Mommy fucks you like a whore?”

“Yes, Mommy, oh, fuck-”

With Natasha’s fiery locks wound around your fingers for leverage, you forced her closer, her body solidly against you. A wandering hand sought the apex of her thighs, pinching and rubbing at her clit as she began to convulse in your arms.

“That’s it angel,” you encouraged, zealously.,“cum for Mommy.”

Natasha craned until her lips ghosted yours, intent on overstepping the boundaries and willing you into a kiss. For once, you did not possess the self-control to deny her, did not want to. She was angelic, the repercussions pushed so far into the back of your mind that they ceased to exist. So, you surrendered to the gravitational pull, claiming her lips as she jolted, her words stifled by your mouth as she unraveled.

Natasha kissed with undying passion, the flames felt as soon as the contact was made. Her tongue infiltrated your mouth, sharp teeth tugging at your bottom lip as her moans were breathed into you. Abruptly, she broke the connection, staring into your eyes with an expression you could not quite fathom.

“I like you,” Natasha blurted, her breathing still uneven, though her eyes were more alert than you had ever witnessed as they burned holes into your own, unyielding.

The tension hung in the air like thick cloud cover, an unnerving quiet whipping up and taking you under as you pondered your response to her confession. Toying with her first was always the more enjoyable option and thus, you decided to do just that.

“You like the way I fuck you,” you corrected, feigning seriousness, your gaze narrowing in order to convince her of the facade. “There’s a difference, Natasha.”

“If you don’t feel the same,” Natasha began, moving to collect her clothes from the bed, “then just say that.”

Laughter rumbled inside of you, unable to be stifled as it burst out from your throat, a hand covering your mouth to no avail. Natasha merely glared at you with fury unbridled, dejected, hurt.

“Why are you laughing?”

You settled upon the edge of the bed, observing as Natasha willed herself into a state of fluster.

“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror, princess,” you suggested, the unexpected segue enough to pique Natasha’s curiosity, though she was still highly perplexed by the sudden redirection.

“I know I look a mess, I-”

“No,” you interjected, guiding her to the full-length mirror beside the bed and studying her features as the situation slowly ebbed out into clarity. “Look.”

Natasha stared mindlessly for a moment, her eyes dulled until she finally caught sight of what you were attempting to unearth. Her hands flew up to survey the skin of her neck, purple little bruises decorating the previously pale skin.

“You broke the rule,” Natasha gushed, wide-eyed, confused. “You marked me.”

You nodded, knowingly as you pulled her to take refuge on your lap. Her mouth was still lightly agape in shock, burning questions flocking to her mind.

“You… don’t mark clients,” Natasha remembered, the words exiting her as more of a question, as if she was confirming your knowledge of its sentiment.

A beam plastered itself upon your face, Natasha’s naivety bringing a warmth that seemed to persist. In that moment, everything seemed to fall into order, unable to take your eyes away from the ethereality of the woman in front of you. Softly, you pressed your lips against hers, hoping that the act would be enough to convey the words that you had struggled to find.

“I know,” you mused, “but I think it’s time that we both admit that we’re more than that, hm?”

––--– ♡ –––--

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #bottom!natasha #natasha romanoff smut

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ohyesididnotjustdothat · 1 year ago

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I think this holds more truth than ppl give Kinn credit for, and in short, it's why I agree Kinn will eventually rebel against Korn--thanks to the change inspired by Porsche.

Kinn vs. Korn

Okay, so something that seems to be fairly common ‘shorthand’ in the fandom is the idea that Kinn is firmly stuck under Korn’s thumb - Kinn wants to be a good son to his dad, who’s a manipulative and lying bastard, and so he won’t ever escape Korn’s grasp.

And while I do agree that Kinn loves his father, despite everything, and lets that sway his decisions —

— I don’t think he’s nearly as obedient to his father as he’s made out to be.

First, going back in the episode to when Kinn thought Korn was dead, we see him taking charge at a meeting with the main family’s business associates:

His ability to lead is called into question, most vocally by the two men near the head of the table, and Kinn gets… one of the scariest looks on his face:

(Look at those dead eyes and that chilling smile. Those idiots just signed their death warrants…)

And, well, Kinn takes care of it:

This scene is a great parallel to episode 1, showing us one of Kinn’s main approaches to running the mafia —

— and it is Kinn’s approach, not Korn’s - both Kinn (“People say I’m more like my mom”) and Korn told us this

And right away we saw Kinn go against his dad’s advice, while still playing the deferential son:

(Just look at this little shit)

Finally, going back to this episode, I think it’s important to note how Kinn reacts to Korn’s betrayal and murder of Gun - he’s not only shocked but disgusted by it:

For all Kinn’s bravado when threatening Vegas and Gun in earlier episodes, I think he was genuinely surprised it would come to this - brother killing brother, in cold blood.

I don’t know what this will mean for Kinn and Korn in the future - like I put at the top of this long post, Kinn still loves his dad. He stepped in front of Korn to protect him from Porsche. And the last we see of Kinn and Porsche is them playing their roles as heads happily, while Korn celebrates his victory.

I guess I just see the ending as more hopeful than others in the fandom do, and that’s rooted in the moments of rebellion we see from Kinn (and Porsche!) throughout the show. It will be tough, but I do think they’ll be able to work through whatever comes next - by going their own way.

#kinnporsche #I legit feel Kinn has full capacity to rebel #particularly bc he has Porsche #but also bc the desire was always there but repressed #but now that someone has given him a taste of freedom #he won't relinquish it so easily in the end #also the fact he includes porchay so freely and on his own #indicates it's more than just puppy love talking #he is in it for the long haul now #it's not Kinn just going against family--it's Kinn protecting his new one #(which INCLUDES the parts of his “old” family that korn is hurting)

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comatosebunny09 · 13 days ago

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quickie | sylus

summary: you don't know what's amiss. but you're plucking the wine glass from his hand without thinking, setting it atop the coffee table with a soft clink alongside yours. smile pretty, leaning in all slow for a taste of his lips. warnings: smut, alcohol, female anatomy described, fwb (?), oral, unprotected p-in-v, reader has hair, fluids, cervix fxcking, dirty talk, praise, size kink, light choking notes: i'm sorry. ovulation week continues. thank you for reading this. ❤️❤️❤️

It starts off pretty tame.

With two friends seated on a couch in your living room, sharing wine, laughter, and stories of past missions gone awry.

He has your feet in his lap, massaging them. Can't keep his eyes off you, the firelight from the mantle flickering over your visage, adding to the romance of it all.

He's smoothing his hands up and down your leg. Grows bolder with each pass over your thigh, kneading the flesh until it craters. Smirks in that way that bleeds sex when you catch him, not at all ashamed or shrouding his intentions.

The mood shifts, the air charged with something heavy. You don't know what's amiss. Maybe it's the alcohol coloring your veins, emboldening you. But you pluck the wine glass from his hand, setting it atop the coffee table with a soft clink alongside yours. Smile pretty, leaning in all slow to sample the taste of his lips.

He encourages you. Tenderly cups the nape of your neck, sighing hot into your mouth. You move like two lovers entangled in a waltz. It's as natural as day sliding into night, and red wine tastes much better when it comes from him.

You grow more confident in your approach, easing your hand down the rigid pane of his body as you push your tongue into his sweltering mouth. He groans something hoarse. Croaky like the crackle of a fire, drawing you closer with an arm snaked around your waist.

You don’t relinquish the seal of your mouths as he tugs you onto his lap. The kiss grows more heated. Tongues twining, teeth gnashing. There’s a hand fisted in your hair. His chest heaves with unrestrained desire. Palms roam to your waist as you shallowly grind against him, his arousal making itself known between your legs.

With a gruff chuckle, he fastens you to him with one hand. Eases you both off the couch to the floor where you straddle him, pulling away from his mouth to stipple his jaw and throat with kisses.

He sighs, craning his neck back. Chuckles, his Adam’s apple bobbing against your lips. You nip at his carotid, fingers making easy work of the fastenings to his dress shirt. He feels so good, all hot and pliant like this, palms molded to your ass, coaxing you to undulate your hips against him.

You peel back, and he follows your cue, maneuvering your bodies until he’s lying back on his elbows. Watches you through hooded, expectant eyes, his once carefully coiffed hair falling down to frame his cheeks.

You’re devious. Slide down the sprawl of his body, kissing, sucking. You nip his pecs, drawing the prettiest sounds from him. Lick his nipple into your mouth, and he bucks against you on instinct, losing himself to the hot draw of your mouth.

You pay his other nipple the same homage. Trail love bites down his torso, sampling the salty tang of his abs as you lick between the dips and grooves down to his navel. He chuckles, ticklish, propped on one elbow whilst using his other hand to smooth some hair away from your face.

You’re at his waist now, and you lock eyes as you press your cheek against his clothed cock. Nuzzle it like a needy kitten, and he watches you with his eyes sliding into a lustful shade of burgundy. His palm frames your jaw, and he thumbs your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss and drawing your mouth open.

He wordlessly gives you his consent. Lets you unravel the buckles, buttons, and zipper of his slacks without contest. Lifts his hips, helping you slide his pants and briefs down, just enough for his cock to spring free and bounce against his abdominals.

Saliva puddles in your cheeks. The head shines with a pretty bead of pre, and the warm, musky scent he exudes is so inherently Sylus. His mouth curls around a silent ‘o’ when you test the waters. Lick languidly up the underside of his shaft towards his mushroomed head, and he pulsates so nicely against your tongue.

Quietly, you maneuver yourself into a more comfortable position between his legs once you’ve slid his pants off his ankles. You grab him at his base, licking the briny pre-spend into your mouth. Dip your tongue into his slit for another taste. He shudders, and a hand instinctively eases into the hair at the crown of your head. You giggle something innocent, thinking he’s just the cutest thing.

His gaze reads, ‘Don’t tease me’ before you take him into the torrid cavern of your mouth. Suck the throbbing head first before gradually sinking him deeper inside, loving the familiar pulse of forked veins in your mouth. You stroke the flesh where your mouth can’t reach with your hand because he’s massive and thick.

He tempers the pace of your sucking. Ruts into the tight squeeze of your throat, occasionally holding your head in place so you can agitate your gag reflexes. And you choke so nicely for him, coughing around his girth until spit and pre-spend bubble at the base of his dick.

“So good,” he commends through pursed, spit-slicked lips. “So fucking good. You take me so deep, sweetheart. Mm, just like that.”

His praise is music to your ears. Makes your pussy throb, and you’re reaching between your legs to assuage the pulse of your clit as he fucks your mouth in earnest.

His moans grow sparse as time passes. Hips roll like waves kissing the shore, and you know by the tightening of his muscles that he’s close. You’re about to finish him off with a flex of your tonsils, but he has a fistful of your hair, pulling your mouth off him with a lewd pop.

Globs of saliva connect your mouth to his cock, and you inhale like surfacing from a pool, a drunken, fucked-out swirl to your eyes.

He bites his bottom lip. Taps his weighted dick against your tongue, groaning low and throaty at the sight.

“C’mere,” he croons. And without missing a beat, you climb up to straddle him once more like the obedient little thing you are.

He rucks your panties to one side, exposing your leaking cunt and swollen labia. You roost your hands on his chest to steady yourself. Grind experimentally against his shaft, the sensation on your clit making your body pulse and your head fly back.

“That’s my girl,” he coos. Traps one of your nipples between his fingers through the thin layer of your dress while his other thumb brushes through your folds. He curls a palm around your nape, snatching you down for a kiss that’s sloppy and briny with the tang of his pre-cum.

He grips your thigh to widen your legs. Rolls his hips until the head of his dick teases the sticky, slutty pucker of your pussy. You moan into his mouth, his thumb pushing against your larynx as he tempts you with the prospect of choking you.

“Wanna fuck me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You nod all too quickly, and he huffs a laugh, spreading your ass cheeks until your pussy squelches with his cockhead fully sucked into the warm clench of your cunt.

You groan in tandem at the union of your bodies, his voice strained with the effort of entering you.

He sinks into you with shallow, sticky thrusts until he’s all the way in, kissing the crown of your cervix with the head of his dick. You lean back with your hands perched his knees, bouncing on his lap once you’re acquainted with his size. He meets you halfway, fingers clasped around your ankles, and he fucks up into you until a viscous cream of your nectar adorns his base.

“Take me, baby. Take me,” he dotes, entranced by the sight of you riding him so effortlessly.

The sound of skin meeting skin and heated sighs stain the air. He grits his teeth while you ride him. Loses himself to the hot suction of your pussy. To the way your tits bounce once he’s tugged the neckline of your dress beneath them and the sinful noises you make.

He reaches up gradually to shove his thumb in your mouth. Your tongue curls around it, and you peer down at him through heavy lids, loving the way he feels stroking in and out. He’s such a pretty mess, that carefully constructed composure he usually boasts thrown to hell. Given all to you, only to you.

You’ve lost sense of time. Not sure how long you’ve been at this, fucking like two beasts in heat. The telltale throbbing of his cock lets you know that he’s close. And you dredge a bitten-off sound from his chest when you constrict your walls around him, quickening his descent into madness.

He leans up on his elbows. Closes a hand around your throat and squeezes. Mouth hinges open, his scarlet eyes swimming through syrup.

“I’m gonna…fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, spurring you onward as you fuck him faster, your pussy hiccupping with the threat of your own release.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” he breathlessly chants, the tendons in his jaw flexing.

He suddenly grows quiet. Angles his head back, and he shudders as you drag his orgasm from him. He paints the channel of your sex with hot spurts of cum. So much that it leaks down the sides of his dick, puddling in the neat patch of hair bordering it.

He pumps into you until he’s overstimulated and you’ve thoroughly milked him. He tugs you down into a lazy kiss when he seeps back into his skin. Thumbs your nipples, softening inside you.

Sylus is a considerate lover. He knows you’ve yet to reach your peak, so he keeps your lips sealed to his while he plays with your clit. Pinches, rubs, pulls. Swallows your moans, stroking and thumbing until you’re pulsing and throbbing and quaking around his dick with your release.

You share a laugh like two enthralled lovers as you curl into him, his heart beating steadily beneath your cheek. He soothingly combs through your hair as the firelight dances over your intertwined bodies, whispering the sweetest things into the night like you both aren’t a sticky, sweaty mess of limbs and sin.

#sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lnds smut #sylus #qin che #lads sylus #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #lads smut #lnds x reader

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lullinglily · 3 months ago

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His Promised Consort (Messmer the Impaler X Fem!Reader)

Being the firstborn of Queen Marika means that Messmer carries a great deal of importance concerning who he is to marry. Marika saw to that, of course.

While it was troublesome finding a family that would relinquish their child to one as serpentine as he, she did eventually find a willing house.

You were the daughter of a wealthy noble family settled inside the walls of the Royal Capital, and a strong contender for the prince’s hand.

When Marika first tells her son of the meeting she’s set up, he’s terrified. How could one come to love him, cursed as he is?

Nevertheless, he wishes to please his mother.

The young prince is especially clueless when it comes to these sort of things and finds himself frequently asking for help from his servants. How does one woo a young lady such as yourself? What if you dislike him? It’s far too often that his chamberlain catches him venting his anxieties to his serpent companions.

When he first meets you you’re almost his exact height. It’s no big surprise; you’re both quite close in age, after all. After the initial meeting however, Messmer’s demigod status begins to show. Each time you meet he’s about a foot taller. While you’re looking up at him in awe, he’s staring down at you in confusion. Why is it that you still don’t make it up to his chest?

He never ceases to be charmingly awkward each time you meet. Even though he’s grown he still acts like a shy young boy, especially around you. Fumbling with his hands, regaling you with tales of his family’s successes, stumbling over his verbosity … It’s adorable.

Later on in the courtship, Queen Marika herself will invite both you and Messmer to catch up on your own while she and your family discuss things further. It’s a little nerve-racking of course, but Messmer approaches this task with total earnestness. He wants you to like him; to be proud of him and his family. And so, he takes you on a tour of Leyndell castle. He shows you around and gives you lengthly explanations of each and every inch of the place while trying to ignore how quickly his heart is beating. He finds it difficult to talk when a simple glance from you is enough to tie his tongue up in knots.

From time to time there will be dinners at either family’s residences, and the both of you will always be sat together. The prince uses these opportunities to be as gentlemanly as possible; pulling out your chair for you, asking if you need anything, if the food is to your liking, etc … While it’s not his intention, it never ceases to fluster you. So much so that at some point you pull him aside and tell him that all you truly want is to hear him talk about himself; about his desires and what he likes. And that, while you appreciate how accommodating he always is, you’d like to know less about the prince and more about Messmer. It’s after this discussion that he becomes more relaxed, and more intrigued with you as a whole. He’s still awkward in your presence, still eager to please, but somehow less uptight about it all.

His snakes grow closer to you each time you visit as well. At first they approach you only to take you in, their eyes working you over before pulling back towards their master. As your relationship with Messmer grows so too does his serpents’ fondness for you. They keep their eyes on you even when their Lord’s back is turned, much to his chagrin. They’ve gotten more comfortable with your presence, gently rubbing against you as if urging you to pet them. The moment you enter the room they perk up, flicking their tongues in greeting as they move towards you, often prompting Messmer to gently reel them back.

It’s hard for him to believe that eventually the both of you will be married. You seem to him a princess already, perfect in every way possible, and so different from his curse-ridden self.

You mean everything to him. After years of courting you, of feeling unworthy of your grace, of awkward brushes against each other and a final exchanging of vows; you were together. He simply could not have been happier.

Your wedding was grand, yet few people were allowed in to witness it. Those who were granted access to the union told of a serious looking Messmer attempting to hold back a smile as the priest read aloud the words he was meant to repeat; words which he echoed almost as soon as they were spoken to him. His voice, while stoic, was betrayed by this telling notion of excitement.

The both of you lived together in Leyndell only for as long as it took Messmer and his mother to plan the crusade. You’d enjoyed your time there, your husband could tell, but he swore to you the Land of Shadow would be far more to your tastes. A land in which he alone ruled, and so too would you.

He left once the plan was ready to be put into action, placing a gentle kiss on your hand where the ring he gave you rested. He promised to return for you once his crusade had its first few successes, and soon enough it had.

You’d missed him, and by the way he enveloped you in his lanky embrace it seemed he missed you just as terribly — if not more so.

While you were sure your marriage to your husband and his horrid deeds sullied the name of your house, you refused to leave him. You were both quite attached to each other.

Messmer’s Fire Knights told of the bond between him and his Pyrefly Consort, how it had existed since childhood and held strong even in the death-touched land they both now occupied.

Never would those under his command have the privilege of seeing the both of you doting on each other. In fact, anyone who bore witness to The Impaler himself melting in his wife’s arms would be incinerated on the spot.

After everything had been said and done, after Messmer and his crusade had been denounced by the very Order they served, after Marika’s blessings had halted; you remained his. In that grim keep he had only you and his seal to remind him of his mother, of Marika and her kindness.

While his seal was still in its place, it was no heartfelt gift. You, however, were.

You who so sweetly regarded him as your one and only beloved, you who he’d known for so long it felt as though you were a part of his very being. You whom he loved so dearly, so completely. When those he trusted rebelled against him, when his name was made into a four-letter word and even his mother seemed to have forgotten him, you still took his bloodied hands in yours.

And for that he will forever be in your debt.

#elden ring x reader #messmer the impaler x reader #messmer x reader

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beenbaanbuun · 7 months ago

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riding w/ jongho

riding jongho would be an experience. he’d have his hands on your thighs, lazily running them up and down your soft flesh. he loves the way it feels beneath his fingertips, digging them in every once in a while just to feel the way your flesh feels in his grasp. occasionally, he’d let them make their way up to your hips, gripping onto the fat of your love handles because he loves how pliant it makes you. when he’s holding you like that, he knows he has the power; your pace is his to control, and you’re more than happy to relinquish that to him.

he doesn��t really care about what pace you’re going though—anything feels good when your walls are squeezing tightly around him. he just likes to remind himself of how easily you’re willing to pass the baton to him. it’s amazing how you fold with just one single touch, and he can’t help but be in awe of it every single time it happens. it means you trust him, after all, and nothing is more beautiful to him than that.

well, other than the way you look when you’re on top of him, of course. hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, eyes screwed shut with pleasure, mouth hanging open in a perfect O. it all paints such a wonderfully lewd picture; one that he could stare at for years and never get tired. monet wishes he could capture something so beautiful. van gogh could only dream of capturing such raw emotion. it truly is a sight to behold, especially when you find yourself growing closer and closer to that all important edge. nothing could top the way you look in that moment.

and then it hits you like a train that jongho could see coming from a mile away. the way you tighten around him, your hands screwing into fists atop his chest. it’s clear that you’re there, and jongho makes sure that he’s prepared to catch you when you inevitably fall to his chest. strong arms wrap around you, a large hand coming so sit at the back of your head. he secures you in place before he sets his own hips to work, making sure to work you through your own orgasm, as well as chasing his own.

he thrusts up into you, hips going at a much gentler pace than your own. it’s only fair, with how tired you seem to be. his precious girl, all fucked out on his chest, laying perfectly still as he uses her spent pussy to chase his own high. he can’t help the praises that so naturally fall from his lips. “such a good girl for me,” he whispers into your ear, cutting himself off with a groan, “letting me use you when you’re so tired, hm? you’re doing so well for me baby, i’m almost there.”

and he isn’t lying. just a few more seconds pass before he’s releasing his load into you, a strained groan falling from his lips as he presses his pelvis to as tight as humanly possible. it’s an emotional thing; a desire to be close to you whilst he pumps his cum into you. fuck, he always wants to be this close to you, but it’s not like he can permanently have his dick tucked inside of you, right?

but maybe just for a little while longer…

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez fic #jongho smut #jongho x reader #jongho fluff

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auragasmics · 4 months ago

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WRITHING HEARTS!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° synopsis! it's marriage for business, pitting you as the engaged bride to one Gojo Satoru, known as a shameless playboy. but when your heart yearns to be with Geto Suguru, the lover behind closed doors, you'll do anything to wind up in his arms!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° pairings! fem!reader x Geto Suguru

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° cw! 4.1k words, arranged marriage au, features Gojo Satoru, mentions of death/suicide, implied infidelity, oral ( m -> f) , missionary, cowgirl, cremepie, Gojo catches you in the act

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° xoxo, chris! sigh, i love this fic </3

A wedding they said, one that would unite the two competing companies into a mass monopoly to control the economic world. You being the poise daughter you were, accepted your parents’ request, relinquishing your chance at finding a pure and true love. It came with not even a bit of resistance, considering that you loved no man except your father.

You even knew the man you’d be wed to within the coming year, one that goes by the name of Gojo Satoru. He was a kind fellow with such charm that any woman could fall for him at the mere wink of his icy blue hues.

In fact, that’s exactly what he did. What troubled you about the sudden marriage to Gojo was that his reputation was known as a playboy, using women for sexual gratification. It utterly disgusted you, knowing that someone as smug as he would be due to be your groom caused unrest within you.

When the news had broken on national television, all seemed to be shocked, hailing you as the holy one. You were seen as the one who put an end to Gojo’s promiscuous ways, the photos of you both taking leisure lunches resurfacing from media blogs everywhere. However, that was only a small percent of the truth, something only you kept to yourself.

Those lunches were designed to shield from the public, staging it that you and Goji were such a happy couple. In truth, Gojo’s ways hadn’t changed, only keeping his personal affairs. In the very house purchased for the soon-to-be united by both his and your parents, he brought his mistresses and quick flings to your abode, a separate room reserved for his affairs.

Even after numerous complaints and teary-eyed woes to your parents, they could not budge. They hated watching as their sweet daughter wailed in agony, sorrow dressing her words in these past few months since announcing the entire ordeal.

In the darkest hours, that’s when your path just happened to cross with one man in particular, Geto Suguru. Geto was a man of former stature, his family losing their wealth due to extortion charges.

He was left with a small fortune before both his mother and father committed the act of suicide a few days before their prison sentence. From the age of fourteen, Geto was forced to endure the stains left behind by his parents.

He’s been shunned from the corporate world, only being invited to gatherings to dwell in the shadows of those who boasted of their success.

Geto would only linger for a bit before disappearing from sight. He was the biggest mystery, one that had your infatuation written all over it. You were unconsciously embedded in him, the wish to free him from his harrowing loneliness ate at you night and day. It had reached a point where you longer cared for your parents’ wishes, finally placing your desires before their own selfish needs.

You needed to seek out Geto, for you own sake and at a chance of finally receiving peace of mind. As for how you both met, it was one of sheer coincidence, the both of you entering the lobby of a building your father owned in the city. You were well aware of who he was, his towering physique jutting from the crowd. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him, the rumors and mysteries shroud his name, but not a single person seeking out the answers they desire.

With every step you took towards him, an unsettling coil formed in your belly. Could it have been from the nervous strike attacking your body all of a sudden, or the words from your adolescence that reply at the forefront of your thoughts. A warning from your parents, advising you to stay away from that man, claiming that nothing good ever occurred when involved with him.

You were refined to believe such an idea, judging the poor man without any pre existing context. You sought to learn the truth of Geto Surguru, especially at the risk of defying your parents.

Once you had initiated the first words, a bright light was casted onto the darkness that covered Geto’s heart. He clung to you, deeming every intimate moment as rare as the jewels found in caverns. The man became intoxicated with your every fiber, and eventually led to your touch. You both knew it was wrong, but the vines of the budding rose to your romance was something that not even the false engagement to withstand.

Yet, like the rose, it’s thorn will always come back to prick the one who gave it life, a lesson you would soon learn all too soon.

“Gojo, could you not flirt while we’re together? It won’t look good for the tabloids,” you suggest, whispering the words of warning along the shell of his ear. He merely shrugs his shoulders, “It’s our engagement party, it’s not my fault there are so many lovely ladies here tonight!”

You roll your eyes, the veins lining underneath your eye twitching with gall. You had hoped that Gojo would put aside his reprobate methods, even if just for the night.

However, the way he dressed tonight alone told a different story.

He wore a glaucous white silk dress shirt, his chest revealed to the wandering eyes of women who hoped to one day take your place beside him. The black trousers upon his body were tighter than usual, the bulge of his length just teasing the onlookers. His hair was styled neatly, hanging just past his ears with not a strand of the frosted locks out of place.

Gojo wore a sneering smile, his best accessory by far. You knew that if you even left his side for a second, he’d be out of the room with a woman linked to each arm. Then again, you had nothing tying you to him, the urge to seek out your one true lover hanging above your head similar to the glass chandeliers adorning the ceilings.

You wore a slim black dress, the neckline ending just below the curve of your ribs. It clung to your figure perfectly, drawing every eye to you. It was a piece that Geto found the most pleasing for the event, his assistance proving itself through all the praise.

Yet, you wished to be with him for the evening, not the snobbish man doomed to marry you within the coming days. It has been almost a year since your engagement to Gojo, but almost a year since meeting Geto.

“Listen Y/N, you and I aren’t actually married, daring, hell, we can barely tolerate each other. You see, in the public, I’m your loyal husband, changed from his old ways. Yet, in private, I haven’t changed not one bit. I don’t plan to either, I love the way I am. I suggest that you find something that makes you happy too, sweetheart. It’s the only way you’ll survive in this life.”

You whipped your head away from Gojo, the pestering tone of his suave voice pinched your nerves. Though it was as if the brash message was on demand, the sight of a familiar figure caught your eye, there stood Geto against the door, wearing a black turtleneck with navy blue slacks and a floral patterned suit jacket.

You felt your heart nearly skip a beat, the look of bliss etching onto Geto’s face as he spotted you. You practically ached to join him, your body desperate for the warmth only he could offer.

Gojo seemed to be interested in socializing, his arm tugging away from the link you both formed an hour prior. He sensed the same urge to leave, to pick his new victim amongst the other beauties. It was only right if you freed him, right?

“Gojo,” you called, “I’ll go get some wine. See you at home later.”

That was all he needed, ripping away from you to dive headfirst into the bundling crowd. You spun around to face Geto, only to find that he had left his position against the wall.

A huff seeped from your lips, realizing that it would be near impossible to find a man who wouldn’t allow himself to be found. Gratefully for you, he was already closer than you had expected, just waiting to take you away into his world.

“Don’t you look absolutely stunning?” A voice hummed, the palm of a large hand slipping along the curve of your shoulder. Just from the subtle peck laid against your skin, you knew who had finally gained their hold of you.

“You know better than to act so boldly like this in public, Geto. I’ll get in so much trouble,” you teased, but you’ve already decided to forego the thought of consequences once the dreamy scent of his cologne flooded your nose.

“Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want the world to know your mine, not that asshole’s.”

Geto slides the pads of his digits down your arm, your skin heating up at his languid touch. You spin around face him properly, a grin gracing both your faces. The urge to kiss Geto ran high, the tension between you both was something that couldn’t be ignored.

“Can we leave this place? I hate loud parties like these,” you sighed, urging your face near his own.

“But, it’s your engagement party,” Geto began, “It’d suck to have the bride be missing. Even worse to find her with a man other than her betrothed.”

A shallow pout poked out from your lips, the gloss reflecting the lights from above. “But, I want you, and only you, Geto. Can’t we make that happen?”

From his pocket, Geto pulled out a room key, the silver ridges twinkling before your widening eyes. “It’s the closest we’ll get to having our own space but...it’s better than nothing.”

Without another word, you and Geto took hold of each other’s hand, slipping from the masses and into the darkened hallway of the hotel. You peppered kisses all over his cheeks, the anticipation bubbling within your body.

In that time that you’ve gotten to know him, Geto was far from all the names and warnings everyone was always so quick to spew. He was kind, gentle with his words and manners. You’ve come to realize that he would never harm a fly, nonetheless, does he live up to a quarter of the rumors surrounding him.

In other words, Geto was the one who had your heart. The marriage would only prove more difficult for the little arrangement you both had. Eventually, the relationship would have to be brought to light, regardless of your attempt to keep it hidden.

“Are we in the clear?” He whispered, aligning the key with the slot. You nodded, checking the surrounding area for any onlookers for the last time. He pushes the door from its frame, pulling you and himself into the room.

With a slamming shut, you found yourself pinned against the shiny white paint, Geto decorating the pulse of your neck with pecks and bites. Your fingers found way to his hair, the thick ravenous locks latching around your dainty digits, encouraging Geto to proceed with his display of affection.

“I see you’re wearing that dress I like, almost like you wanted to get my attention,” he ventured, pulling away from the freshly laid trail of bites. You bit your bottom lip, the blood rushing to greet each ministration on your skin. It was all too overwhelming, but you fell prey to the amorous aura surrounding Geto, the searing ache amidst your legs leading your every move.

“I have no clue as to what you mean, I just really like the color black against my skin,” you purred, peering up at the impassioned man through your darkened lashes. Geto snaked a hand behind you, his fingers toying with the zipper lining the curve of your spine. With his lips brushing along the shell of your ear, he whispered the teasing words to spur you on.

“If you don’t mind, I happen to love what’s underneath the dress all the more.”

You surround the nape of his neck with your arms, leading Geto into the kiss just waiting on your lips, nodding frantically at his request. Without breaking the kiss, Geto stripped you bare of the silky material, leaving the matching hunter-green bra and thong set to don your body.

“Aw, no fair. I didn’t wear anything you’d like,” Geto frowned, drawing away from your lips for a moment.

You trailed your fingers down to the heavy belt buckle at the forefront of his hips, a sly grin creeping onto your lips. “Y’know how much I love those tattoos of yours, that’s all I need.”

Geto chuckled at your words, the pair of you working in tandem until he stood with only his briefs. He took a firm hold around your waist, lifting you from the cold floor. “I missed this, I’ve missed you,” he groaned, his teeth pinching at the supple skin of your breasts. You giggled in response, “It’s only been a few days, I don’t see how you miss me so much.”

Geto placed you onto the bed, the white sheets contorting around you as he planted his hands on either side of your head. “When you’ve been as alone as I have, you’d understand. In all of my twenty-four years, I’ve never been so happy,” he gushed into the crook of your neck. You giggled in response, “I can say the same, I’m so glad to call you mine.” Geto pried away, placing himself above you once again.

“See, you love me and I sure as hell love you, I’m tired of hiding it. I mean, why can’t everyone know that I’m so much better than that Gojo. Do I have to demonstrate that to confirm my case,” he groaned tirelessly.

You shook your head, “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to prove it to me.”

“Damn right I will,” Geto boasted as he sank down to his knees, his face filling the spacer between your legs. He glared up at you, laying a trail of kisses along the plush of your inner thigh.

“I’ll prove it to you and I’ll do it well,” he quipped, the animalistic tone intertwined with each word. He hooked onto the sides of your panties, sliding the soaked cloth down your legs and away from sight. The calloused palm of Geto’s hand pressed into your stomach, pinning you down to the bed without choice.

“Stay there for me, won’t you? I just wanna make this pretty pussy of mine happy,” Geto quipped, his lips placing a soft kiss onto the folds of your puffy cunt. You nod in agreement, all tension melting away from his touch.

With the pad of his thumb, geto parted the lips of your cunt, the viscid mess of slick glimmering in his eyes. He was quick to attach his mouth to you, the flat of his tongue collecting every drop hungrily.

A sharp gasp flooded your lungs, your back arching beneath him. There was something in Geto that seemed to have your body just fold at his command. In everything he did, he approached it with benign care. He knew every curve, nerve, and crevice of your body, each arc of your curling silhouette accepting him willingly.

The earthy brown hues of Geto’s eyes were no longer in view, looking back to his head as he continued to immerse himself in your flavor. He rolled docile circles into your clit, a hum of praise vibrating from his throat.

“Holy—don’t stop, Geto,” you mewed, biting back the moans that sought to fill the walls of the room.

You sensed a nod of compliance from him, Geto suckling the pearl between his swollen lips. The heavy pool of nerves churning at the pit of your stomach surfaced, limbs stiffening at once. Your vision grew burry, the patches of white light piercing through.

His hands latched onto your wrist, guiding your own hands into the thick strands of his hair. Geto loved whenever you raked through his locks, tugging at the roots whenever the pleasure pooled over the limits you could handle.

You began to tremble, your legs seeking something to grasp. Geto took notice, the robust strength of his arms clasping the underside of your thigh, He led your legs to drip across onto his broad shoulders, your thighs nuzzling Geto deeper towards you. A rush of thrill sped through his veins, Geto watching his efforts pay off with such pride.

A harsh arch carved itself into your spine, your walls coming to a steel grip of nothingness as you release the woes of the day all onto Geto’s awaiting tongue. A groan emitted from his throat, the whites of his eyes reverting to the forefront of his visage.

“Fuck, give it all to me,” he moaned, desperately dragging his tongue across your spasming clit. You rocked your hips against Geto’s slicked muscle, riding out the fleeting moments of your high. Your head tossed back with a final cry, Geto’s name singing from your lips.

He could only chuckle at your state, the pride brewing in his heaving chest. “See, I know Gojo can’t do that, even if he tried,” he jeered, pulling away from you. Geto stood from the ground, a visible spot of precum soaking through his briefs. You reached out to tug at the elastic waistband but Geto tacked your hand down on your stomach, hovering above you.

“Just spread those legs for me, and I’ll take even better care of you,” he hummed, sliding the tips of his fingers to squeeze at the underside of your thigh. You found yourself in the center of the bed, legs pressed into your chest. Geto was swift to strip from his briefs, standing before with eight inches to fill you with, his cock so heavy with the need for relief that it stood upright with no aid, the plushy pink crown of his length just riddled with thick streams of precum drooling from the slit.

Geto held the base of his dick, gently nudging at your entrance. He studied at how the whole mass of his tip slid inside you, an enticing gasp following suit.

“Don’t look at anything but me,” he hissed, Geto’s cheeks stricken with heat. He relished in the way you squeezed around him, your walks never fully being able to contort to his size. He would always give you a few minutes filled with kisses and words of encouragement until you adjusted around him, Geto giving you the slowest of thrusts to begin.

“You’re doing so good, baby, just a little bit more,” he comforted, Geto’s hips driving a bit deeper. You rested your hands atop his broad shoulders, sliding down the expanse of his chest, admiring the way the sleeves of Geto’s tattoos complemented his body’s physique.

With such a strong build of muscles shaping his arms and the cuts of his hardened abdomen, even the patterns of ink that adorned his being were enough to make anyone squirm at a glance.

You were just lucky that person was you.

You eventually found your way to his waist, his hips rutting into you effortlessly. You pulled Geto into you, trapping him in with your legs around his waist. He took in a heavy intake of air, the hull of his chest expanding in compensation.

“That’s new, something you wanna tell me?” He whispered teasingly. You bit back the onslaught of moans, the want to form an actual sentence gaining the upper hand.

“Just want y-you closer,” you whined, the girth of Geto’s cock dragging against your walls at a sluggish pace. He stood still for a moment, staring down at you.

“I’m not going anywhere, promise,” he cooed, pressing a kiss onto your perspired forehead. Geto slid his arm underneath your back, closing the gap between you both. He drew himself from your heat, a spew of curses leaving from his parted mouth. You had no clue as to what Geto had in mind but you knew he was far from done.

“I’ve been dying to have you ride me again, it’s practically all I think about these days,” Geto cooed as he crawled to the top of the bed, his back flush against the wooden headboard.

You followed behind him, your arms encircling his neck. “Have you now? Is that all you think about?” You grinned, allowing for your legs to plant themselves on either side of Geto.

“Of course not, but I love it when you do,” he beamed, his hands settling upon the curve of your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh in the palm of your hands, your body jolting in response.

“Shh, save those chills for when you finally cum, it's a sight that I get to savor all to myself.”

Geto snaked a hand between your bodies to brace his twitching cock towards crooned as he your entrance. You slid down his shaft with ease, your walls encasing his length snuggly. You lifted your hips, earning a seething hiss from Geto, the pressure already rendering him weak.

“Why I barely did anything, don’t tell me you’re close already,” you taunted, carding through his locks that dared to cover an ounce of Geto’s lewd look of pleasure.

“Hell no, I just get a little excited, you know that.”

You swiveled your hips against him, taking Geto in deeper until you felt satisfied to ruin the man beneath you. You couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach, growing tighter with every rise and fall of your hips onto the unalloyed mass of Geto’s thighs. I

t was hard work to bring that prickling rush of ecstasy among Geto, but it was worth it all, the way he’d become drunk off you. His speech, his thoughts, and even the way he’d latch onto your ass to fondle at the mound of flesh all belonged to you, something that brought you more pride than your own family name.

Heavy pants of need leave from Geto’s strained throat, louder than the pornographic rings of skin crashing against another. You painted kisses and nips onto the velvety skin of his chest all the way up to his lips.

Geto was sensitive, to say the least, between the deepening strides of your hips, the plush of your lips dancing against his own, and your pretty voice singing his name at the top of your lungs were all the ingredients for a disaster in the making.

“Princess, how do you think Gojo would react if he found out that a degenerate like me fucked a beautiful little baby into his fiance?” Geto pondered between weak bucks into you, trying to gain back some type of control.

You struggled for a moment, gathering the words around the mushed thoughts of your mind. “H-He wouldn’t care,” you mewled, using the fleeting bits of your energy to clamp down around Geto.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he moaned, tossing his head back as he came undone, the thick ropes of cum flooding your womb. You released a squeal of glee at the feeling, the sensation being one for the books.

As you both came down from the high, Geto pulled you into his chest, the expanse of his pecs rising and falling at a staggering pace. “Fuck, you’re so good to me, Y/N.” Geto huffed, nuzzling a kiss onto your parted lips. You remained perched on his lap, back arching into his smothering hold.

“I love you so much, Geto,” you whimpered, rocking along the thick length still plunged inside you.

“I love you beyond words. I hope that one day soon I’ll be able to m–” he began, only to find his impending sentence being interrupted.

The sounds of voices rang from behind the door, the clicks of locks echoing around the room. You and Geto had no time to react, only facing who could possibly disrupt the intimate moment.

“…and I said, "No, who the hell wants chiffon mixing with spandex?" designers are so stupid these days–Oh my! What have we here?!” The voice barreled out, the steps coming to a sudden halt. You shifted around on Geto’s lap, facing the onlooker head-on.

“Hello…Gojo…” you grinned, staring back at the man, who just happened to have two women strung along with him. You couldn’t find it in you to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed if anything…it felt good to watch Gojo have the dumbest shock displayed on his face.

Geto didn’t budge either, his lips clinging to the corners of your malicious smile. “There seemed to have been a room mix-up…I’ll be on my way then,” he croaked, Gojo’s eyes still pinned on the scene before him.

You and Geto exchanged a quick glance, one filled with disinterest. It also seemed as if Gojo was hurt, hurt to find that his sweet soon-to-be wife had a filthy secret of her own. What a beautiful concept double standard can be, something that can be forgotten once it is done to the doer.

You turned to Gojo, looking him dead on with an expression of apathy.

“You do that then.”

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