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hvnyrt · 3 days ago

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Brat reader with Jason on a ferriswheel at night. Bonus points if they're not together yet

Up High, Down Low

JASON X AFAB! READER

Hey there! Thank you so much for submitting a request! I wasn't sure if you wanted NSFW or not, but I couldn't help myself soooo there's a little smut. Enjoy!

SUMMARY: You and Jason go on a ferris wheel ride together, your riffng is something that's always been apart of your friendship, until it gets taken a little too far

WARNINGS: afab!reader, teasing, brattiness, public-ish sex, fingering, edging, 18+, minors do NOT INTERACT

WC: 2.5k

The Ferris wheel creaked softly as it started its ascent, each wheel turning with a rhythmic groan. You leaned back in the seat, arms crossed over your chest, and huffed dramatically, just to make sure Jason knew how bored you were.

“You know, I thought this was supposed to be fun,” you said, eyes lazily scanning the lit-up skyline. “But honestly? Kinda overrated.”

Jason, sitting across from you, glanced up at the dark sky, his arms casually draped over the edge of the seat. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. He was playing it cool, but you knew better.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who wanted to come up here,” Jason shot back, his tone dry. “I’m just along for the ride.”

You rolled your eyes, tapping your foot against the metal floor. The world below was full of lights and noise, but up here, everything felt distant, separated from the chaos you both usually navigated. It should’ve felt peaceful, but somehow, the stillness only made you more restless.

“Whatever,” you muttered, leaning over the side and staring down at the carnival below. The lights blurred into a mix of red, yellow, and blue, as if the whole world had been dipped in neon paint. “I bet you think this is romantic, huh? Sitting up here with the city all lit up, stars above...”

Jason snorted, his gaze flicking to you. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Nothing says romance like a Ferris wheel in the middle of Gotham.”

The Ferris wheel groaned as it reached its peak, the sound of the metal grinding against itself almost drowning out the noise of the carnival below. You shifted uncomfortably in the seat, feeling the wind tug at your jacket, and stared at the twinkling city lights spread out beneath you. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined Gotham to look when you’d heard it called “beautiful” — more like a maze of lights and shadows, a skyline of contradictions.

And yet, it was hard to ignore the way your heart fluttered when Jason’s voice broke through the silence.

“You know, I’ve never really understood why people think this is romantic,” he said, his tone low, but still carrying that edge of sarcasm you were so used to. He was leaning back in the seat now, his arms resting casually on the bars, eyes half-lidded. There was something almost dangerous about how comfortable he looked, even up here.

“Yeah, ‘cause Gotham is known for being the city of love,” you shot back, unable to stop yourself from sounding like a smartass. “Maybe we should take a nice stroll through Crime Alley after this, too. You know, for that perfect date night vibe.”

Jason’s gaze flicked to you then—eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but not in anger. More like a challenge. His lips quirked, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You really are something else, you know that? Always gotta keep pushing, don’t you?”

You didn’t look away from him. “Someone’s got to keep you in check.”

His smirk deepened. “That so?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, and for a brief moment, it felt like the space between you closed by inches. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

The air around you felt heavier, charged. His gaze was intense—daring, almost predatory in the way it swept over you, taking in every subtle shift of your posture. You shifted in your seat, your breath hitching ever so slightly, but you didn’t let it show. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting inside your head.

“Maybe I just like seeing how easy it is to get under your skin,” you replied with a raised eyebrow, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. The words came out sharper than you meant them to, but you weren’t backing down.

Jason’s lips quirked at the corners, like he knew exactly what you were doing. “I think you’re just a brat who likes to act like she doesn’t care.”

Your stomach tightened at that, a flicker of something dangerous lighting up your insides. He gets under my skin too easily.

"I care," you said, a little more sharply than intended. “Just not about this.” You motioned vaguely to the carnival below, and to the cage you both were stuck in.

He didn’t miss a beat. His eyes locked onto you, a flicker of something darker, something almost predatory. “Oh, I know you care,” he said, voice lowering, the words like a promise. “But you’re too busy trying to hide it.”

You sucked in a breath, but didn’t let yourself react. You were used to Jason’s games. He liked to push, liked to get people riled up, and you were no different. But there was something in the air now that made it feel like this was different. Like this wasn’t just a casual conversation anymore.

You leaned forward, your gaze narrowing on him. “You don’t know anything about me,” you said, your tone half daring him to keep pushing, half inviting him to.

Jason shifted slightly in his seat, leaning forward just enough to close some of the distance between you. The way his eyes trailed down to your lips, then back to your eyes, sent a spark of heat straight through you, and for a second, you forgot to breathe.

“Don’t I?” he asked, voice like velvet and smoke, low and dangerous. “I think I know exactly how you work. You like the fight. You like being challenged.” He glanced at your crossed arms. “But deep down, you like when someone can actually push back. Don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your chest. You were doing everything you could not to let him see the effect he was having on you. But he could see it, of course. Jason always saw through people, always felt the shift in the air, in the way you moved, the way you breathed.

“You talk a big game for someone so sure of himself,” you muttered, even as you tried to keep your voice steady.

He leaned a little closer, his presence filling the small space between you both. You could feel the heat of his body, the subtle tension in the air, like something was about to snap. His hand brushed against the side of the seat near yours, just enough that you could feel the press of his fingers against the metal.

Your eyes locked on his hand, then slowly dragged up to his face. His expression was unreadable, but there was something dark simmering behind his eyes. Something raw, something almost dangerous.

“You’re right,” Jason said quietly. “I’m not just sure of myself. I’m sure of you, too.”

Your pulse raced. “What the hell does that mean?” you asked, a breathless edge creeping into your voice, even though you tried to keep it steady.

Jason’s smirk was slow, deliberate, and damn near smug. “It means I know exactly how much you’re trying not to care. But you do. You care, and you want me to keep pushing.”

The words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. A rush of heat flooded your chest and neck, but you kept your guard up, even as every part of you seemed to want to shatter. “Keep talking, Todd. You’re really good at this... but I’m not impressed.”

His gaze sharpened, and then his lips curved into something darker, something almost predatory. “No? You sure? I think you’re impressed. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

You felt the urge to say something, anything, to put him back in his place. But your words caught in your throat when Jason moved just a little closer, leaning in just enough that the scent of him—leather, something dark and masculine—flooded your senses. You could feel the heat radiating from him, could practically hear the beat of his heart.

Your breath hitched. You told yourself it was because of the height, because the ride had just crested and the wind was messing with you. But you knew that wasn’t it. The way Jason was looking at you, so sure, so intense—he made you feel like you were both caught in a storm.

“Don’t,” you warned, voice trembling just enough to give him an opening. “Don’t make this about—”

Jason’s eyes darkened, cutting you off with a single, sharp movement. He leaned even closer, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Make it about what, exactly? You?” He chuckled softly. “You can act like you don’t care all you want. But I can see it in your eyes. You like this.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, not when your heart was racing, not when your body was so aware of his every movement. The air between you felt suffocating now, heavy with tension, charged with something too tempting to ignore.

Jason cut you off with a quick grab to your chin, pulling your lips to crash into his. He claimed your mouth, using his tongue to claim all over you. You fought him back, fighting for dominance. Yet he was stronger, and well, you wanted to lose.

He was, of course, right too. You could deny the dynamic between your friendship was palpable with sexual tension. The two of you always bantered back and forth, but it never ended up like this.

You whined and moaned into his mouth, as he took one of his large hands and quickly unbuttoned your jeans. You gasped when he did this, watching his large, calloused hands take control of you in the small cage, hundreds of feet in the air. Without warning, he picked you up on his lap, and began to abuse your cunt with his fingers. He pumped your hole as he used his other hand to pinch your nipples over your shirt.

You whined and moaned, the sounds of the carnival drowning you moans out, yet the knowledge of him taking you like this publicly had you drenched.

“Oh so this is what it was about. Sweet thing just needed something good to get her to act right?” Jason teased, continuing to scissor your insides with his fingers. He grabbed the side of your face making sure you could look at his smug smile, juxtaposed with your sweaty mess of a face, bliss your only expression.

You sneered a bit at his words, babbling over yourself as he hit your g-spot, legs starting to shake. “F-fuck..you,” you spat back. You doubled over, his arm going to wrap around your waist to hold you up as you began to shake. “Holy shit Im gonna–”

“Cum?” He remarked, cutting you off. He let out a low chuckle, quickly ripping his hands out of you. You gasped as the sudden loss of friction, clenching around the air as your pussy craved more, especially after being denied an orgasm. “Yeah after the way you talked to me, you don't get to do that right now.

He picked you back up off his lap and sat you down next to him, zipping and buttoning your jeans back up for you. He smiled at your shocked and angered expression, chuckling at you.

You groaned, pushing his hands off of you as you crossed your arms. How had he taken control of you like that? How did you let him? And why did you love it?

He smiled at your shocked and angered expression, chuckling at you. "You look like you're about to set the world on fire," he teased, his voice light, almost playful.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to ignore the heat rising in your chest. "Don't laugh," you snapped, your voice a little shaky despite your attempt to sound firm. "You don't get to do that and then just... laugh."

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. "Oh, I can do whatever I want," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something else, something that made you second-guess your own frustration. "You didn't exactly stop me. You especially seemed to be enjoying it." He teased at the end, throwing you a sultry look, a sly grin on his face.

You turned your face away, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "That’s not the point, and you know it," you muttered, but there was an undeniable pull in his gaze as he watched you, like he was waiting for you to say more.

Jason’s chuckle was dark, low, and there was something about it that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His tone dipped into something more like amusement and challenge than anything else. “But it’s cute that you pretend like you’re the one in control.”

His words felt like a slow burn, and you didn’t like it. Not one bit.

You shifted uncomfortably again, not knowing if you should laugh or punch him for acting like he knew you so well, but all you could do was shoot him a glare that you hoped conveyed something.

Jason seemed to take pleasure in watching you try to regain your composure, his eyes never leaving your face. The tension was thick now, like the quiet before a storm. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, the Ferris wheel creaking as it slowly started to descend.

But then Jason broke the silence, his voice softer this time, but still filled with that same undercurrent of challenge.

“You’re not as tough as you act,” he said, his gaze catching yours again, this time more intense, more pointed. “You know that, right?”

Your stomach flipped, and you hated how vulnerable that statement made you feel. But you weren't about to let him see it. Not now.

“Maybe I am,” you shot back, your jaw tight. “Maybe you’re just too used to everyone rolling over for you.” He had just had you shaking on top of him, on the brink of an orgasm, and here you were acting as if nothing happened.

Jason laughed then, that deep, dangerous sound that seemed to vibrate in the air. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just amusement anymore—it was something darker, something that made the tension between you both almost tangible.

And you hated how much you wanted him to say more.

The Ferris wheel reached the bottom, and you both snapped back to reality, the ground rushing up beneath you. The moment was over, but the air between you still felt electric, the crackling tension thick enough that neither of you had the nerve to say anything as you got off the ride. You could still feel your panties sticking to you, your earlier wetness reminding you of how horny you were. And thinking of what he did to you, with all these people around, made you even hornier.

As you stepped off the platform, Jason’s voice followed you, low and just for you. “You’re lucky I like you, brat.”

You barely had time to turn and shoot him a look before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, heart pounding in your chest and a smile playing on your lips.

#jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fluff #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #jason todd fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #request #batboys #batfam #batfamily #smut

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pursuitseternal · 2 days ago

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“𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝓂:”

𝒜!𝒜𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝒾𝒸

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | E | 2K

🎨🎁 for Stacey Monroe on twt and BlueSky

Summary: You burn, in heat and needing to mate… and your Master is more than willing to help his *dearest pet*

CW: Cw: Breeding for impregnating, bdsm, master/pet, slight degradation, PiV, reader in heat, faced fuck, mating press, ascendant stamina 😈

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

The very air tastes of him, you stick your tongue out. He’s been in this room, the sweet sweat of his body still lingers as he passed this way recently. Your mind is a mess, a primal mush of need and pheromones.

Your bare feet step blindly, compelled by your core. Your cunt clenching in time with your progress as you wander up the stairs. “He’s here,” you say to yourself, voice hissing as you pant in heat.

For you are in heat.

Your blood sings for your maker. Your folds seep with need. Your skin is damp with sweat and flushed with desire. Only his cock will make you whole, only his cum will douse the inferno.

You make it to the bedroom, hearing his movements within. His heart is skipping, contented as he moves, your vampiric hearing hones in on that low pitter patter of your creator, a rhythm as familiar as the march of eternity.

Noises sound almost underwater with the way your pulse beats, even undead your heart is in a frenzy, and it’ll stay that way…

…until you flood your cunt with seed, letting it take root and make your belly swell.

You whimper his name, your mouth salivating his scent thickens. “Astarion…” Throat thick with spit-slick, his name sounds like a high-pitched growl from your lips as you wet them. Then you enter his bedroom, his lithe form eagerly prowling from the far side of his bed, those massive wooden posters now wound in red silk ropes that extend to the center.

The candlelight flickers over his pale skin, caressing the lines and angles of his bare chest and leather-clad legs. Fuck, it makes you drool, a thin line of your saliva dripping down from the corner of your mouth. He moves with stealth, assured he knows exactly what to do, a plan in place as he prepares his bed for you.

Those pointed ears twitch as you enter, a sinuous smile creeping over his lips as he turns in your direction.

He lifts his head, scarlet gaze fixing on you as his nostrils flare. “Mmm, pet, you smell… delicious.” His hand closes around your wrist, a firm pressure, a guiding pressure. It steadies you as he pulls you to his bed and lays you down. His touch is warm, even on your burning skin, fingers leaving trails of fire as he positions you spread eagle, your arms resting comfortably above your head. The silken rope soothes you as he binds your arms, the tug of your limbs just painful enough to ground you…

To make you present to his attentions and pull you from your cloud of lust.

A single nail trails down the inner flesh of your arm, following the rises and dips of your body and leaving a trail of molten heat in its wake.

“Dearest pet,” your master’s voice caresses your very mind as he peers down at you, scarlet eyes aglow from his power, “what a beautiful feast spread so willingly for me.” More of his fingers now wander down to your breast, bare as the day you were born, squeezing it to dig those nails delightfully into your skin. Releasing you, he brings a finger to flick just nipple.

And your cunt starts to leak into the sheets. A keening cry slips from your slack mouth. “More,” you whine repeatedly.

And he is more than willing to satisfy.

“My favorite sound, the desperate cries of a whore, just unraveling for her master,” he purrs, chuckling as he climbs over your body. That frame of unmatched, ascendant strength cages you in, hands by your head, leg splaying your cunt wide open to feel his bulge as he lowers it. That clothed cock slots perfectly where you ache in delicious pain.

Instantly you grind, wrapping your legs around him. Friction, you need it, your body screams at you. Hormones racing in your blood to have him release his cock and pound you.

But you feel his anger before anything else. “Bad girl,” he growls, his sudden movements making you gasp as he pushes up, hands pinning your thighs back to the bed. “You are mine to fuck, mine to pleasure, mine to breed.”

He looks down on you, his twisted delight at your insolence is etched on the angles of his face. Lips part in a wide-fanged grin, and his fingers work the fasteners of leathers. “My sweet pet, it’s that time, hm? Those days where your urge to fuck outweighs your hunger for blood.” He drags his hands down your chest, scoring his nails just lightly to heighten your senses.

“Gods, I love this time of the year,” he groans, eyeing you like they prey you are, “helpless and mindless and ready for a good fuck, is that it, pet?”

You whine as he works himself towards your sly smile on his knees, until you’re looking straight up his torso.

The sight makes you buck your unburdened hips. “You’re going the wrong way, master…” you manage to choke out. Then, you watch as his hands deftly free his cock, the buttons almost popping off as they open. He’s flushed, rock hard and leaking.

That length bobs as he looks down at you, a sadistic smile on his plush lips, his thumb sliding into your mouth to pull it open. “First, you’ll suck me, then, if you’re eager, I’ll breed you… fuck you so full of cum your belly swells.”

His own hand runs down his torso, nails dragging over the rises of his muscles until he grips the base of his cock.

“Is that what you want, pet? Want me to fuck a child into you again… make you swell with my offspring? Or are you too mindless and drooling to reply?” He gives that wicked, rumbling laugh as he presses his precum-slick slit to rub your lips. To mark your mouth as his to fuck.

Bitter sticky fluid touches your tongue and instantly your body hums to life. “Yes, Master,” the words barely make sense to the ear around his cock as you suck him in. The weight of him traps your tongue as you try to speak, the all-too familiar veins of his shaft caressing it as he thrusts home.

Fingers and nails grab your head, hips snapping to fuck your mouth. He begins with only a few slower slides into your mouth before he snarls, losing control as he plunders that warm cavern. The muscles of his pelvic slam into your forehead and nose, his balls slap against your chin and neck as he ruts down your throat.

“Such a pleasing cocksleeve, such a willing whore,” he snarls in deep chested tones, voice roughed with his efforts. “You make such a beautiful vessel for our offspring. I can hardly wait to see you swollen… to make you bounce your beautiful, rounded body on my cock again…”

Tears leak from your eyes at the memories and images he conjures, his words that mix of praise and insult only making your cunt throb harder. You keen around his cock as it jabs the back of your throat. So hard and leaking, you can feel him readying to blow… your hips buck against nothing. Just a constant slow slap of your ass back on the bed to remind him where he needs to come.

“Heh,” he pants, his laugh more of a growl, a feral sound from his throat. “Eager, my treasure?” He slows, one last thrust deep enough to make your neck strain open until you gag, and he pulls his length free. He is too graceful to scramble, that lean pale body sinuous as he slides back between your thighs, his mouth covering yours to taste yours.

Spit and early cum on your tongue that you selfishly thrust inside his mouth, a gratified hum rattling your teeth as he groans in appreciation. “I do so love the taste of you… after you’ve tasted me…”

You chuckle, that aged line far from faded in its ability to make you clench.

But this time at last you clench around something… that blunted tip of his cock teases at your entrance, coaxing your own pathetic noises. It slides in so easily with how much slick there is. But, he’s determined to make you insane with lust. Only an inch inside you… then back out. Only a bit more… he thrusts, fast but shallow.

And you swear your womb is throbbing, your cervix screaming to be rammed until he floods you with what you crave.

“Master… master…” his title, his name tumbles pleas after plea as you yet endure this torture that only makes you weep from your eyes and your cunt.

At last, his hands find purchase under your knees, folding you in half and raising your entrance to the ceiling. Still seated inside you, he thrusts deep, mounting you to fuck. “Of course, my pet,” he pants at last. “Who am I to deny you what your body truly craves?”

All control snaps, all sense of restraint evaporating like the sweat that sticks to your whole body as he fucks. His mouth consumes yours, tongue addicted to the taste of your essences mingled. Your two made into one… just as he is about to do inside you.

To fill you with him to make something new… a bit of him and a bit of you…

“Fuck, Astarion,” the very idea of swelling with his offspring makes you clench as he bottoms out over and over again.

“That’s it, pet. Make room for Master so I can give you our child,” his voice rumbles in your ear. His head nuzzles against your neck, his fangs scraping and not biting your skin. Every thrust is a grunt, vocal cords fraying as he grows louder and tougher. His chest vibrates against yours as his hips snap. He chases his release, but not at the expense of yours.

The way your whole body pulses with the need for him… to take him deeper and harder, it makes you rock your hips and tug on the restraints on your arms.

“Mine… mine… MINE,” he growls into your ear, one hand leaving your leg to claw hard into your breast once more. A merciless squeeze around its fullness, a playful nip in your neck to taste you blood, and he sends your careening into orgasm.

All you know is the bloom of heat and the slap of wet flesh between your thighs. It soothes you, calms you… and finally with a roar, he completes you, seed pulsing and flooding your womb to take root again.

“Good… good… girl,” he rumbles the final word. A single, tender kiss on the underside of your ear is his one soft sigh of affection before he pulls out. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts however, just to be sure his cum is deep inside you.

Those crimson eyes scan his work, long nailed fingers raking up your ass to gather the seed that drips out before he shoves it back inside your channel. “Really darling, now don’t move a muscle. We want this to take, don’t we?”

That smirk that flashes down at you makes your walls clench, making more of his cream leak back out.

“Tch,” he sneers. “If you’re going to be so stubborn about it,” he leans in to whisper against your lips, “then I’ll just have to be more… persistent this time around.”

Your world spins as he flips you, twisting your bound arms to splay you on your belly.

And you grin, already sliding yourself up on your knees, face down into your sweat-soaked sheets. Ass in the air, you’re ready for more.

Ready to be mounted and mated. Ready to make room for him.

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karlachismylife · 23 hours ago

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I just know Gaz is so fucking good at rock climbing. He's just built perfectly for it, he's got the endurance, the flexibility, the grip, the core strength, the agility, the arm spread, he's not too bulky and heavy like Soap or Ghost, his height gives him quite a lot of advantages (even though sometimes there are trails for us hobbits, but mostly being tall helps). Price could probably give him a run for his money, but since I headcanon that Price has seriously fucked up his spine and joints, especially in his fingers, he might be held back by this. Also I feel like Kyle has the best endurance out of all four of them, so he does extremely well on the long ones. He's also got that magical ability to be able to take a rest at the tiniest little handle, like literally catches himself with two toes and a pinch on a non-existent bump in the rock and relaxes as if he's lounging on a beach, all muscles resting before the upcoming difficult few meters.

Also he's one of those who will climb even in slippers, just because he gotta flex like that.

No I'm not drooling over his fingers wrapped in that tape in places where he ripped calluses off, you are.

Also this was induced by a SoapGaz thought where Gaz runs Soap through some intensive training on the climbing walls and enjoys the view of all that muscle bulk flexing and rippling as Soap struggles to find his balance and makes mistakes in dispersing his weight which limits his reach. He's so tense, he can barely slur his Scottish nonsense out, sweat streaming down the dip of his spine and soaking his tank top through.

When he finally falls of the wall after reaching the top handle, his fingers are shaking and he needs Kyle's help to untie the harness knot. Wipes his forehead, leaving a white streak of magnesia stuck to the wet skin, and huffs and grumbles about how he'll still beat Kyle's PR one day.

Gaz won't let him, of course. But he won't stop Johnny from trying either, because after that he gets to massage all those sore muscles Soap didn't even know existed, and listen to him groan as he shamelessly leaks into his boxers. Because why wouldn't Soap get off the post-gym muscle strain, really. And why wouldn't Gaz enjoy watching him get painfully hard and sensitive from barely sexual touch, exploding into his mouth as soon as Kyle wraps his lips around Soap's tip.

#juju's grumbles #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #soap x gaz #gaz x soap #soapgaz #soap cod #john soap mactavish #cod #call of duty #listen i just really wanna go rock climbing again #this shit makes me feel so alive #and i just know gaz would volunteer as a trainer for kids groups in his local rock climbing club #also the one i am going to has this old man who has one arm amputated up to the elbow #BEST FUCKING CLIMBER IN THE CLUB #he's literally a beast i've seen him climb the 15 meters wall in seconds #also tatted up and wears a bandana and has like long white hair #i have such a crush on him #he's a trainer and i want to work with him so bad but also i know i'll embarrass myself #and my level is just really pathetic #so i just drool in my weakling corner as i watch him casually do the shit i can't even dream of with all my limbs intact

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salaimoi · 2 days ago

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cw: implied suicide, concubine reader, grieving sukuna.

As the final hour approached and the evening shadows crept across the horizon, the air became heavy with an unspoken sense of impending finality. The room was swathed in red, lit by feeble flickering torches that cast erratic shadows on the walls, welcoming an eerie ambience in their path. The atmosphere in the room grew thicker, the scent of incense mingling with the faint but distinct whiff of death in a sickeningly sweet blend.

Ryomen Sukuna’s red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, betraying no emotion; this was not unusual. As the King of Curses, he had no need for emotions. He had never been one to care for anything or anyone, and his cold demeanor was a testament to that. But that belief was shattered the moment he stepped foot into your final resting place, forcing Sukuna to halt in place as he stared down at your body in a mix of perplexity and irritation.

“Had one too many drinks, hmm?” Sukuna rolled his eyes half annoyed, body dipping slightly so his hand could latch onto your wrist tightly. He tugged your arm upwards in an attempt to force you to stand up, still under the naive impression that you were just passed out drunk. His brows furrowed in suspicion the moment he noticed how you hung limp like a rag doll — head falling back on your shoulders while he held onto you.

"Quit playing dead, woman. I’m not in the mood for your theatrics right now." Sukuna growled, his patience running thin with you.

The only response he received in return was a blood-curdling silence.

"Concubine?" He murmured, his tone low and raspy as panic subtly overtook the stoic man’s features in a matter of seconds. He desperately grabbed at your frame, shaking it once more in a futile attempt to force you to open your eyes — to make you say something, but it was all fruitless effort. The only thing he could do was stare blankly at you, as if his mind refused to process what was going on. “I see.” He mutters under his breath, slowly squatting before you as he continues holding onto your arm. His breath momentarily hitched in his throat as he scooped your static body in his arms, refusing to let go despite the coldness of your skin; there was no warmth whatsoever left in your body. The only thing left was regret and an immense pain as he realized this was the last chance he'd ever have to see you. To talk to you.

"Is it an apology you’re looking for?” He finally whispered, choking back on the heavy lump of grief and heartache lodged in the back of his throat. “I'm sorry, okay?"

The desperation in his voice was clear as he repeated himself over and over. He knew he was grasping at straws, his apology and pleas falling on deaf ears — ears that were no longer attached to a living body. Whatever words he spoke were only met with a soul-killing silence. The body of the concubine he never dared admit to actually needing, was no longer a body; it was a corpse. And even so, he didn't feel like letting go — as if his refusal to do so could somehow force you back to life.

His panic spread like wildfire the longer he held you, because everything he'd come to know about you, every moment shared together, all of it was no more. Your body remained unresponsive and dull, eyes shut as if you were asleep or in some kind of trance. Even the way the light from the ceiling bounced off your soft and pale skin, to the curve of your lips as he remembered them from days ago, was all surreal. But he refused to accept that this was what it looked like — that his concubine was gone just like that.

He had never felt this way before — not even with any of his previous concubines. Every other one, he would have left to their own devices, not caring in the slightest about what became of them. But this concubine... this one was different. She made him feel things he'd spent his entire life avoiding. Sukuna didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid; he was afraid of accepting the harsh, cruel reality that you were no longer here. If he held onto you tightly enough, or if he refused to let you go, maybe, just maybe, he thought, this could somehow be a nightmare — just one big cruel, sick joke. And when he wakes up, everything will be back to normal. Back to the way things used to be between the two of you.

But despite his optimistic outlook, even he couldn’t forgo the harsh, bitter reality that laid just outside the boundaries of his dreams.

"Concubine," he murmured, his voice barely even a whisper. "I don't want to," trembling from the trepidation he felt, his voice dropped to a whimper.

"I can’t do this without you.”

His words came out weak and pathetic, but they still held true nonetheless. There was so much more he wanted to say to you during your final moments in his arms, but he couldn't bring himself to continue. All throughout his life, Sukuna was afraid of being, well, human. The reality was he was just as weak as you, but it took losing you in order to discover this bitter truth about himself. Emotions equaled weakness to him, so he never demonstrated an ounce of care for your existence. He never married, afraid his enemies would come after the only person he truly treasured in this miserable life. And yet, his beloved fled his side on her own accord.

Was he really that unlovable? Was the afterlife pleasant in all the ways his presence wasn’t?

He hated himself for ever treating you like he had, for not telling you how much he loved you while your eyes still fluttered at the sight of him, but it was too late now. You were gone. Even if he couldn’t confirm it, the heavens must be delighted to finally have a real angel in their mix. All he could wish for now was that it enveloped you in the ways he never did.

Maybe in another life he’ll tell you how much he loved your irritating defiance. The way you didn’t fear him the same way others did. The way you let your presence be known when you entered a room. The way you voiced thoughts others didn’t dare voice.

Maybe in another life he’ll allow himself to be human for a change.

For you.

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈.ᐟ only adding this because of @luvvsoft ‘s response when beta reading LOL

i’m so sorry that he only addresses reader as concubine even in her final moments, i just really loatheeeee using y/n ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა ⠀

#⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ 20ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴄᴏᴍʙᴏ ɪꜱ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ .ᐟ #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryoumen x you #reader x sukuna #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x concubine #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna angst

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 days ago

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Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You want to trim your boyfriend's mustache.

Genre: well needed fluff

Warnings: implied sexual relationship in the end, mentions of bleeding

~ this came to me in a dream. idk. enjoy 🫶 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Please," you whine, practically hanging from his arm as he unlocks the front door of your shared apartment. In an instant, you've thrown your heels on the floor, still clinging to poor Tangerine like he's your lifeline.

"You can brush my hair! Braid it even! I pinky promise," you try and bargain, which only causes a low chuckle to rumble from your boyfriend's chest.

"How is that a fair trade?" he raises an eyebrow. Tangerine undoes his tie and hangs up his coat near the door. He takes your coat too as you drop his arm and does the same.

"Because I pamper you and then you pamper me," you explain sternly, now almost visibly buzzing with excitement and the residue of the liquor you'd drank as you look at him expectantly. You aren't drunk, just relaxed. "C'mon, please."

Tangerine curses his brother for even planting this stupid idea into your mind at the bar.

He rolls his eyes and rolls up his sleeves at the same time. "I don't trust ya around sharp objects, darlin'," he says, crossing his arms.

You swat your hand in the air and shush him. "Pshh, I cook for us all the time and I don't hear you complaining about me touching a knife."

Tangerine is silent. He can't argue with that, he does adore your cooking. "Fine," he mumbles and walks into the apartment, disappearing into the bathroom to set some stuff up. "But if you mess this up, I'm cutting your hair as punishment," he calls out casually.

You scrunch up your nose in disapproval, walking behind him and lingering in the doorway of the bathroom. "Isn't that a bit dramatic? I'm talking about giving your 'stache a trim and you threaten my beautiful hair?"

"I like my mustache as much as ya like your hair," Tangerine hums, running some water into a rather large bowl. "Seems anything but dramatic, darlin'."

You know he's joking but his threat still lingers as he finally sits on the toilet lid, smirking and patting his knee. "C'mere you," he mutters, his voice softer, and when you walk close enough, he grabs your hips and pulls you down to straddle one of his thighs.

You're giddy again when he shows you the razor, shaving cream, as well as the bowl of warm water he's set up on the counter for you. It's a fancy shaving set, with some fancy brush you aren't even sure how to use. You hold them up in front of him.

"Bought these from the King?" you tease.

Tangerine rolls his eyes again, "One more smartass comment and we're going to bed," he warns lightheartedly. You shut your mouth, nodding, and he smirks. He closes his eyes when he feels your delicate fingers spread the shaving cream around his mustache.

God, he's so smitten by you he's letting you mess with his appearance. He feels a little silly.

You raise the razor, sticking out your tongue as you concentrate. You don't want to hurt him and you want to get this right—you want to make him happy. You go slow, hands trembling slightly as you rock in his lap. Tangerine groans internally as he feels you on his thigh, his hands grasping your hips to steady you so neither of you move.

He flinches when you almost cut his lip and you gasp, pulling away the razor. "I'm sorry!"

Tangerine chuckles, opening one eye, "Am I bleeding?"

You shake your head and lean back forwards, "No, but wait, I'm so close to done," you bite your lip and finish a little. Your smile grows and you sit up, grinning, "There!" Tangerine turns to look in the mirror but you shake your head and dip a cloth into the warm water to wipe away the shaving cream. With a skip in your step, you grab your makeup-mirror and hold it up to him.

Silence follows and your stomach flips. "Well?" You sound nervous and your boyfriend grins.

"It's alright, luv," he jokes as he places the mirror on the counter. You pout and he chuckles. He reaches out and takes your hip, pulling you onto his lap again. "It looks real good, darlin'" Tangerine admits, his voice low in your ear. You giggle and wrap your arms around his shoulder.

"You look very handsome," you say honestly and Tangerine beams.

He wasn't used to these kinds of emotions before he met you. He loved Lemon and that was it, and obviously this was a very different kind of love. You made his chest burst with warmth. You made him feel all kinds of soft inside and he'd fought that feeling for so long, and still you stayed. You stayed and he finally opened up to loving you, and he hadn't stopped since. Tangerine's eyes soften as he sees how happy he's made you.

He pokes your nose. "Thanks to ya, I suppose."

You laugh and lean in to kiss him, your hand scratching at the hairs on his nape. He kisses you back, wrapping both arms around your back and under your shirt. You gasp at the coldness of his hands but then melt into the kiss again. Tangerine nudges you with his nose and his mustache tickles your upper lip. You just smile, deepening the kiss.

Without hesitation, his arms settle under your ass and he picks you up as he stands. You wrap your legs around his waist and laugh again. "Where are you taking me?"

Tangerine hums. "The bedroom. It's my turn to braid your hair, innit?"

You kiss his cheek and down his neck. "I suppose," you tease and pull away with a wink, "or we could do something else?"

Tangerine just grins, dropping you on the bed with a bounce as your laughter fills the room.

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skeletorrito · 16 hours ago

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our fav bois playin in the ocean bc why not

NSFW 18+

Fortunately for the pair, the beach house rental was only a few hundred feet away from the beach itself, and, to Satoru’s relief, he could still survey the area even from this distance. Suguru’s curses continued to guard the perimeter as Kuroi and Riko slept soundly.

They ran out in nothing but swim trunks, racing each other towards the shore. Satoru won, naturally, but that only fueled Suguru to shove him into the ocean.

He tumbled into the shallow water with a yelp as an ice-cold wave washed over him. “Oh fuck that’s cold!” Satoru stood quickly, his teeth started chattering as the wind hit his freezing skin, and goosebumps spread across his exposed torso. He was especially sensitive to touch these past few days, only releasing his technique when he was alone with Suguru.

Satoru suddenly regretted this brilliant idea of his. He splashed Suguru with a big wave. (He may have put a little “physics-altering momentum” into it, too.)

“I told you, idiot!” Suguru laughed, putting his arms up to block. “Just keep going, it’ll warm up.” He waded in until he was chest-deep, shivering and clenching with each wave that rolled over him. Satoru followed, whining with each step he took until he finally gave in and dunked his whole head under the water. He floated back up seconds later with a gasp, more awake than he’d ever been in his entire life. His once spiky hair fell flat against his head in a white helmet.

“Oh my god, your hair!” Suguru exclaimed between laughs as he floated around Satoru for a better look. He laughed even harder as Satoru tried to fix it, tears starting to well in his eyes. “You look like a drowning poodle!”

“Oh that’s soooo funny,” Satoru replied sarcastically and frowned. He secretly loved hearing Suguru laugh like this, the rare sound music to his ears, even if he was the butt of the joke. He smirked, seeking revenge by suddenly pushing Suguru’s head under the water.

Suguru resurfaced quickly, scowling, his loose hair almost totally covering his face as he rose from the water. Satoru brushed it aside gently, giving him a quick, salty kiss.

“You look like a hot mermaid,” he commented with a grin.

Suguru returned the kiss, dipping his head back into the water and smoothing it out of his eyes. He smirked, replying playfully, “Careful, or I might drag you to your death.” He grabbed Satoru by the waist, pulling him in and tickling him under the water with clawing fingers.

Satoru doubled over with laughter, his stomach clenching. “H-hey, Suguru! St-stop it, you fucking jerk!” He writhed in Suguru’s grasp, trying to push him away.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Kiss my ah-ass,” he spat with a grin. Satoru yelped as Suguru’s fingers dug into his sides harder. He squirmed uncomfortably, the touch becoming overstimulating even though he couldn’t stop laughing.

Suguru’s smirk grew wider. “Hmm, I don’t think that’s it, sorry.”

“Okay, please, please stop,” Satoru whined quickly, tearing up as he giggled.

Suguru let go, looking pleased with this answer. “Aww, the strongest baby can’t even handle a little tickle,” he teased with a chuckle, slicking Satoru’s hair back and giving him a wet kiss.

Satoru deepened the kiss, gripping long, wet locks. His tongue slipped into Suguru’s mouth, flicking along his bottom lip, tasting salt and sweet and everything in between. His fingers grazed up a goose-pimpled, muscled thigh and he received a soft moan against his lips. Suguru lifted his leg, hooking it around Satoru’s hip.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” Satoru breathed between kisses, pulling the other leg up around his hips. Suguru was suspended weightlessly around him as his arms slipped around Satoru’s shoulders.

“Oh yeah?” Suguru replied in a whisper just above the crashing waves. They waded comfortably, pulled by the low tide, each jostle of the ocean rubbing Satoru’s arousal against Suguru’s thigh. He smirked, legs tightening their grip as he commented, “I can tell.” Suguru initiated another deep kiss, biting and sucking on his lower lip.

Satoru groaned, gripping his hips, his greedy fingers sliding under the waistband of Suguru’s swim trunks and over his ass. “Should we take this inside?” He asked huskily, squeezing.

Suguru gasped and flushed, squirming in Satoru’s grasp. His own arousal pressed against Satoru’s abs through his thin swim trunks. “Y-yeah, let’s warm up,” he agreed shakily, attempting to slip down but Satoru didn’t release his grip. In fact, he might have made it tighter.

“Uh, let me get down.”

“Nah.”

Satoru started towards the shore, slowly swishing through the water as Suguru still clung to him.

Suguru flushed, pulling back with pinched eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘nah?!’ Let go!”

Satoru rested his chin on Suguru’s shoulder, pouting and whining, “But I don’t want to…” He pressed his lips to the man’s neck, nibbling at it gently. “Just let me be Prince Eric and rescue you, Princess Ariel.”

Suguru’s face grew hotter, mumbling, “You’re such a weirdo.” He didn’t fight as Satoru carried him until the ocean licked at their ankles, both shuddering in the humid breeze.

aaaah thank you for reading, i'm having so much fun writing this. I'll keep dropping lil snips until I finally post to ao3 !!!

#satosugu #fanfiction #jjk #ao3 fanfic #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gego #smut #goge #sugusato #stsg #sgst

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waytooinvested · 23 hours ago

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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 35

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

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

Please don’t leave me.

Lena swallowed against the lump in her throat and stepped closer towards Kara until they were almost toe to toe.

‘I do want to talk about it. I didn’t realise it until you offered, but I think I need to talk about it.’

She paused again, unsure if she was about to cross a line, but hopeful that Kara would forgive her for it even if she did.

‘Kara do you think… I know this isn’t something I should ask for right now when we don’t even know where we stand, but just for this one night could we put all of the hard stuff aside and just… go to bed? I feel like this will be easier to talk about if we’re lying down in the dark, and also, I just… I really, really need to be held right now.’

Lena had never admitted something like that to anyone in her entire touch starved life, and it was terrifying just to say the words, but before she had even a moment to second guess herself she was enveloped in Kara’s embrace. She let her head find the dip of Kara’s shoulder and wrapped her arms tight around her, squeezing with all her strength, no need to worry about hurting or winding the girl of steel. Kara’s own hold was firm enough to make her feel safely anchored, and yet infinitely gentle, never pressing hard enough to hurt, or even make her feel restricted. She wanted to live in these arms forever and never, ever let go. Now they had started, she didn’t think she could let go, not without Kara physically peeling her off, and she wondered how they were ever going to make it to the bedroom.

But it turned out she didn’t need to worry about that. Kara let go of her with one arm, then dipped down to hook it behind Lena’s knees, scooping her easily up into a bridal lift and carrying her to her room like she was an overtired child up past her bedtime.

Once she had been deposited gently onto the bed, Lena managed to force herself to release Kara long enough to pull on some pajamas and whisk a toothbrush round her mouth in a vague nod towards proper dental hygiene. By the time she got back from the bathroom Kara was already tucked under the covers, her Supersuit exchanged for pajamas of her own and a tiny smear of toothpaste in evidence at the corner of her mouth, though Lena wasn’t sure how she had had time to brush her teeth already.

Oh right, superspeed. Handy.

Then Kara opened her arms invitingly, and all the mundane trivialities she had been focusing on to get her through the last few minutes fell away as she crawled in beside her and fell gratefully into the embrace. Kara pulled her closer until their bodies were pressed together all the way to their tangled feet, Lena’s head finding a comfortable spot resting on Kara’s chest as if it belonged there, the steady beating of her heart a soothing drumbeat against her ear.

Lena curled her fist into the fabric of Kara’s pajama shirt, feeling the hot, taught skin of her stomach as it rode up a little, and at last began to talk.

She told Kara about the day she had arrived at the Luthors’ manor, and the chilly reception she had received from her ‘new mother’. How those words had stung, because she had a mother. She had a lovely mammy who had loved her and wanted her, and had never looked at her like she was an unwelcome mongrel that had wandered in off the street to spread fleas and chew up the furniture. If the New Mother had been a proper one she would have scooped Lena up into her arms and crooned soft lullabies to her. She would have called her dote, and honeybun, and taken her back to her own small, bright home that had always felt so much richer than this soulless, echoing mansion. Lillian Luthor had done none of these things. She had barely glanced at Lena, speaking over her head to the man who was going to be her father as if she wasn’t even there, and Lena had known right then that she would never be a proper mammy.

But Lex had spoken to her. He had asked her if she wanted to play with him, and told her that he was going to be her new brother. He had taught her to play chess, and every time she beat him he had pushed her to do it faster, smarter, again, not seeming annoyed or defensive to have been beaten by someone so much younger than he was. It was Lena’s first experience of having a sibling, and she thought it was going to be a nice thing to have.

Of course he hadn’t been perfect, not even at his best.

Throughout her childhood she had wanted so badly to impress him, and yet nothing she did ever seemed to be quite good enough. Even so, he was the one who seemed to see her the most, and took her the most seriously in that house. Her mother mostly ignored her unless it was to criticize, and as for her father… Well, he had been a good man, and Lena had loved him fiercely, but while he loved and even favoured her in return, he always treated her more as a pretty doll or a little pet than a real person, patting her head and chuckling vaguely when she tried to tell him what she was working on, as if it was all some elaborate imagining of hers that she couldn’t possibly actually understand. Then as she had grown he had started drinking more and more, until finally Lex had felt like the only stable presence in the house.

Not that he had been there all that much since he was away at school so much of the time, but she would look forward to his holidays, working hard on her inventions in between times so that she could show him something perfect when he got back, and maybe this time he would be truly impressed. Only inevitably when she showed him at last he would hold it up for a moment, pressing buttons and twiddling bits like it was a toy, then toss it casually back to her with a dismissive ‘that’s cute Lena, you should make it in pink’. And Lena had burned, and redoubled her efforts on the next project as if that would ever really make a difference…

Kara listened as she talked on and on, the good and the bad entwined so inextricably together that sometimes they seemed like the same thing. She told her about the White Knight signal that Lex had made for her, and how he always answered it no matter what, even if they weren’t speaking at the time. She hesitated for a moment, and then admitted that using it was how she had got him to turn up this time after all their fruitless months of searching by more conventional means. She wondered if Kara would be angry with her for not using it sooner. After all, if she had it was possible that Kara would have got her memories back months earlier, but she didn’t point this out. She seemed to understand how big a thing it had been for Lena to use their sacrosanct SOS beacon as a weapon against her brother, and instead of criticising she pulled her impossibly closer.

‘That’s why he was so angry with you tonight. Why he tried to take something from you in return.’

‘I knew he would be. It was the one betrayal he could never forgive.’

‘And you did that... for me?’

‘Of course I did. I would do anything for you.’

Lena could feel the bob of Kara’s throat as she swallowed, then whispered into the cocooning darkness that surrounded them:

‘Still?’

‘Still.’

Her response was definite, solid reality to Kara’s fragile question, and she felt the change it brought about in Kara as if it was happening in her own body, so closely were they pressed together.

‘Lena-’

The simple two syllables of her own name on Kara’s lips were laden with all the love and complexity that sat unspoken between them, and hearing it when she was already so raw and vulnerable threatened to sweep away what little composure she had left.

‘Don’t say it. Not to tonight. If you say it now I will break and I can’t- I can’t take any more breaking tonight.’

Kara swallowed again, but she nodded, and Lena felt the brush of it against the top of her head as she did so.

‘Okay. Not tonight.’

Lena took a deep, shaky breath, and pressed the tiniest kiss to Kara’s collar bone. Then she moved back from the precipice they had been teetering on.

‘How about you? Do you want to talk about anything? You’ve been through a lot and it must be so confusing. I promised you I’d tell you everything as soon as I could, and now you have your memories back I can do that.’

‘Maybe tomorrow. Right now I think I need time to process having two lives worth of memories. It feels so strange. Now I remember my real life all the human memories feel different, kind of flat and two dimensional, like something I just made up. But I also still remember what it felt like for them to be all there was...’

She trailed off into a frustrated sigh, unable to articulate quite what she meant, though Lena thought she understood – at least as well as anyone who hadn’t experienced it could. On a much smaller scale she too had held two realities in her head, the sudden reframing of her experiences with Kara and Supergirl that had happened when Lex had played his recording like the collision of two tectonic plates. Devastating and transformational, the landscape of her mind forever altered.

‘My head is just so noisy right now. I think I need to let things settle before I really get into it, if that’s alright. If you’re okay with it I’d like to spend tonight just being here with you until it quiets down.’

‘Of course darling.’

Lena tightened her arm protectively around Kara’s waist, wishing there was more she could do to calm the turmoil, at least for a few hours so that she could sleep. Then in a flash of inspiration she remembered how she had soothed Kara the last time her head had been too noisy.

‘Would you like me to tell you something instead?’

‘Like what?’

‘Anything. Something science-y that you can fall asleep to. Like last time.’

Kara perked up. ‘Really? But no, I can’t ask you to do that. I came over here to look after you, you shouldn’t have to look after me.’

‘You are looking after me. You’re giving me exactly what I didn’t know I needed, and I am so grateful. Let me do this for you?’

‘Okay then… yes please, I would really, really like that.’

This time Lena didn’t tell Kara about her latest work with L-Corp. Instead she talked about quantum entanglement – how two subatomic particles could be intimately linked together, the relationship maintained even if they were separated by billions of light-years of space. Kara listened, hmm-ing softly as Lena expounded on Bohm’s variant of the Einstein–Podolsky–Rosen paradox, the hand that had been cupped around her shoulder finding its way up to play idly with a strand of Lena’s hair instead, twisting it round and round her finger as if she was trying to tie the two of them together (as if Lena wasn’t already tied to Kara more completely than an entangled pair of photons), until at last she began to relax into the mattress, releasing the strand and skimming her hand down Lena’s side to settle in the dip of her waist.

Her breathing shifted into the slower tempo of imminent slumber, and Lena too felt her body growing languid and heavy, lulled by Kara’s closeness and the little island of peace they had created together. She tried to go on describing how the use of superconducting nanowire single-photon detectors could be applied in deep space communications, but her words began jumbling into incoherence, until at last she gave up and allowed herself to follow Kara into sleep.

They still had a way to go, but for right now, for this one night, the rest of it could wait.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #my fic #kara x lena #supergirl fanfiction #multi chapter fic #forgotten not forgiven

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payetagouine · 2 years ago

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Morelos Salsa Verde - Salsa

#Fresh from Morelos #Mexico #green salsa made with tomatillos. We use this recipe #which belonged to my husband #to make taquitos #huevos rancheros #pork #chicken #and even just for dipping! dips and spreads #morelos salsa verde #heat #salsa #mexican

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blossoms-phan · 4 months ago

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my condolences to the poor person who is in charge of ordering food on dnp’s tours that has to order every kind of dip on the menu for Princess dan’s enjoyment

#he’s such a lowkey guy otherwise it’s not even a bad request it’s just funny #incoming quintessential shot of him with a spread of dips on the tour bus #give dip all the dips #dnp

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screampied · 5 months ago

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✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this

riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”

“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.

“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”

an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.

“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”

nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.

your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.

taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.

“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”

he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.

it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.

tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.

oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”

“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.

your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.

nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.

each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”

“f- fuck, keep talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.

your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”

with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.

you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.

“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.

nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”

kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”

“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.

with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.

pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.

as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”

18K notes · View notes

pennjammin · 1 month ago

Text

geeked up.

you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!

content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism

incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru

word count. 8.3k

soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee

COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.

A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.

The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.

"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”

He’s so polite about it. At first.

“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”

He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.

“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.

“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.

“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”

His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.

“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”

“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”

Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.

You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”

“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”

“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.

“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.

“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.

He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.

“Please, just take it out,” he begs.

How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.

"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.

Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.

You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.

His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.

You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.

You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.

Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.

Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.

On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.

He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.

“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.

Until finally he’s had enough.

In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.

His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.

"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.

You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.

With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.

“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.

You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.

“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”

You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.

His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.

He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.

He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.

You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.

"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"

You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.

Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.

His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”

Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.

"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.

You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.

But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.

“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.

The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.

You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.

But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.

KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.

Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.

He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.

While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.

You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.

Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.

He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.

"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"

Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."

You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.

"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."

He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."

"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."

Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”

"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.

Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"

You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."

His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.

Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”

"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.

Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”

You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."

Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.

"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”

"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."

"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”

You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.

You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.

"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."

You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so."

He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.

“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.

Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.

“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”

You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.

You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.

“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”

You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.

You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”

His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”

“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.

“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.

“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”

“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.

His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.

“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”

“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.

He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.

Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.

“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”

And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.

"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."

"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.

"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.

"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.

You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.

You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.

"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.

The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.

“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”

“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.

His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.

“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”

“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”

SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.

"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"

The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.

You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.

Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.

Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.

"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."

You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.

You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.

You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.

You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.

He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."

You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.

Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."

You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."

Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."

God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.

And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.

Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.

You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.

"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”

All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.

His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.

"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.

"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."

"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."

He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."

You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"

"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.

"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.

"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."

You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.

Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.

“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”

It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.

Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.

You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.

And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.

Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.

GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.

“Want a hit?”

Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.

“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.

Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.

You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.

“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.

“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.

But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.

His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.

You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.

Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.

“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.

“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.

“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.

“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”

“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”

“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”

“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”

“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”

You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.

“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”

He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.

He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.

“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”

He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.

“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”

“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”

He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.

Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.

You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.

“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”

“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.

You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.

"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”

"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.

"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.

Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.

“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”

You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.

“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”

You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.

“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.

“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”

Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.

But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.

“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.

You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.

His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.

“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”

“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.

“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”

“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.

His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.

“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”

“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”

“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”

“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.

“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.

He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.

“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”

“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.

“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”

A/N:

I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me

I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)

And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.

all the love always!

~pennjammin

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