#and then they fall in love with the baby oh no

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 3 | masterlist

-

It’s not unusual for someone to mistake you for the baby’s mama.

How could someone not, at least for a moment? When you take the baby to the grocery store, older people gush over him babbling in his stroller, eager to shower him with compliments in baby-talk or tell you how much you resemble the little tyke. After hearing the same comment for the umpteenth time, you tire of correcting people by saying you’re the babysitter only to watch their face fall, somewhat mortified and feeling as though their comment should’ve been directed to the baby’s actual mother. Which isn’t you. 

It’s less typical for someone to mistake you for John’s wife, though that does happen from time to time.

You’ve become a fixture around the neighbourhood since John hired you at the beginning of the summer, and over the weeks, the other nannies and the stay-at-home moms have started to gradually warm up to you. Before long, you’re being invited on coffee runs and playdates with some of the other women, always careful to ask for John’s permission before bringing his baby into a stranger’s house.

“Just text me the address and their names,” he requests while you stand awkwardly in front of him, John sitting on the bed to finish buttoning up his shirt and fixing his watch around his wrist. You would’ve been fine standing on the other side of the door while he finished changing, but he insisted on inviting you in.

“I will,” you promise, nodding along with his words.

“And call me if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll come get the two of you right away if you need me.”

You swallow. Nod again.

The first time you take the baby for a playdate with a couple of the moms from the park, one catches you in the act of texting John the address of the house as he requested. “Hubby wants to know where you are, huh?”

“Oh,” you choke out, face heating up. “He’s not—”

“Not a control freak, I know. They’re all like that.” Her smile is ebullient, rolling her eyes like you’re in on a joke together when you most assuredly are not. “Why don’t you share your location with him? Mine’s the same way. Here—I’ll show you how.”

She takes your phone and tap-taps something and suddenly you see it in the notifications of your conversation with John. If you bite your lip instead of correcting her assumption about the nature of your and John’s relationship, that’s for you and you alone to know. Your rationale is that any explanation will just make things tense; it’s not like you haven’t seen it happen before. 

It’s far more concerning when John doesn’t correct those assumptions. Particularly when you’re standing right next to him. 

Like at the local water park on a particularly hot weekend, wading in the kiddy pool with the baby nestled tight against your chest in his little swim trunks and floppy hat only for an employee to ask John if his wife would like something to drink. 

“Iced coffee, love?” John asks, taking your stupefied silence as a yes. “Nothing for me, mate. Cheers.” 

Your head spins like a top on that thought until a good while later. The server hands you a glass of iced coffee with condensation already dripping down the sides and John thanks him for you, taking the baby from you and pulling you to his side. You drink your coffee quietly with your thigh flush with his under the water, gripping the glass harder when his free hand squeezes around your waist, laughing at something another parent said to him.

It’s so over for you. There’s no coming back from this. 

The sight of someone of John’s size, a bulky, military man with arms of pure steel dusted with dark hairs, cradling a tiny, chubby baby with a thatch of similar dark hair on his head and big cheeks and roly poly arms unlocks something primal in you. An old, buried need. 

In the family changing room, you stand under an ice cold shower until it breaks the fever slowly consuming you. All you can do is hope it takes. 

In the evening, you sit out on the porch with John at the back of the house until the crickets swell with song, the moon a half-crescent in the sky. A cool breeze makes your shoulders lift a little, huddling into your body to keep warm. 

It’s hard to keep your eyes on the view in front of you and off the man sitting beside you when they want so badly to be running over him. He’s changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old threadbare shirt, the sage green fabric faded after years of being run through the washing machine. It clings to his biceps and the soft pudge of his stomach, a layer of fat over the hard muscle beneath. 

A cigarette dangles from his fingers, thick wrist perched on the arm of the adirondack chair. Every so often he lifts it to his lips for a puff, always breathing out in the opposite direction from you. Considerate of your health, at least, if not his own. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks before ashing his cigarette, and your bottom lip purses when you turn your head to look at him because you thought you were doing a good job suppressing your shivers. 

You stare at him, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at your questioning stare and deliberately glances down, waiting until you notice the way your nipples are protruding through your white tank top. You forgot that you’d taken your bra off earlier for a bit of relief and hadn’t yet had a chance to put it back on. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, crossing your arms to hide as much as possible, humiliation flooding through you. “I’m so sorry—that’s so—I-I’m so sorry.”

John makes a rough sound when he rises to his feet, knees cracking as he does. “S’alright, hun. Lemme get you something to put on.”

The screen door creaks when he goes back inside briefly to fetch something only to come back a few seconds later with a big, cotton sweater that reeks of him. It looks well loved, some remnant of his younger years, and even from a distance, you can smell the distinct smoky aroma clinging to the fabric. 

When he kneels in front of you, you nearly go cross-eyed at the realisation that even on his knees, he’s as tall as you. The bulk of his waist forces your legs to spread around him. 

“C’mon, arms up,” John commands, barely waiting until you’ve raised your arms above your head before helping guide your head and arms into the right holes. 

Dragging the sweater down the way he does forces it to rub over your nipples, sending a shock through you. If you had any less self-control, your teeth might actually chatter together. 

“There we go,” he says, fluffing out the sweater around your waist before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, the gesture coming so naturally to him that you doubt he’s even noticed the placement of his hands. “Much better. That’ll warm you up.”

He isn't wrong. You’ve already worked up a sweat. 

Late night rain.

It comes down in buckets, a dark slate rapping hard against the window pane. A bolt of lightning flickers across the horizon off in the distance. White striations across an otherwise dark sky. About thirty seconds later, thunder rumbles. 

You peek from between the blinds, chewing your lip nervously. You’ve never driven in rain this bad, but with supper done and the dishes washed, there’s no excuse for you to stay any longer. Still, the rain comes down so heavily that despite your timidity, you briefly contemplate asking John if you can stay a little longer. At least until it lets up a bit; until your headlights won’t blind you reflecting off the puddles on the drive home. 

Someone else pulls the blinds further apart.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out in that,” John says from behind you, practically growling his words. Daring you to contradict him. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him right there at your back, staring out the window. He’s so close that you can smell the red sauce on his flannel from dinner and make out the flecks of grey in his beard that are almost masked by the darker hairs. 

“It’s not…that bad…”

“Sweetheart, don’t piss me off,” he warns.

The blinds shuttle back together with a clatter when you finally let go of them. 

“I could—I could take the couch,” you offer. 

“Sweetheart,” John sighs, looking down at you meaningfully.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not gonna take the big, comfy bed and leave you with the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “And don’t even try arguing. I won’t hear it.”

There’s not much you can say to dissuade him after that. The furrow of his brow lets you know he’s made up his mind; no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides, there’s a not-so-secret part of you that’s relieved that you don’t have to drive home in this weather. You’re an average driver on a good day. You don’t need your last moments before shuffling off this mortal coil to involve hydroplaning on the highway before ramming into the guardrail. 

John gives you a shirt of his to change into for after your shower, which you spend far too long in, scrubbing your body with his shower gel and quivering under the warm water. When you pull it on, you bring the collar up to your nose to smell. The same patent smoky scent, musky like ambergris and leather. Intoxicating. It makes the blood rush through your ear like a conch shell, the ocean swirling behind your eardrum. 

You hadn’t asked for underwear, content at first to keep on the same pair, but after your shower, you cringe at the thought of putting your day-old panties back on. Besides, his shirt is long enough to cover anything indecent. 

He sits on the edge of the bed when you come out, the concern on his brow melting away at the sight of you. 

“Practically a dress on you, isn’t it?” John says, voice a little wondrous. His eyes drag over you, tip to toe. 

You fiddle with the ends of it. “…Are you sure you want me to take the bed?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair. It’s yours for the night.” His lips quirk up at the corners when you frown. “Don’t worry about me—I’ve slept in worse places before.”

“Like where?” you ask dubiously.

“Tents. Abandoned buildings. Shacks. In the back of a moving van a few times. You wouldn’t believe half the places we used to make camp. Definitely no place for pretty girls like you.”

His condescending tone vaguely annoys you, but it’s hard to dig into your irritation when he thumbs the edge of the shirt you’re wearing and you realise that he’s just a few raised inches away from noticing that you don’t have any panties on. You should’ve just put your old ones back on, but it’s far too late now. 

You clear your throat instead. “We could…um…we could share.” 

You don’t know what possesses you to offer to share the bed, but the words are already gone, out of your mouth and in the air. John cocks an eyebrow.

“Unless you don’t want to,” you amend. 

“Don’t know about that, sweetheart,” he rasps. “…I snore like a bear.”

“That’s okay. I’m a pretty deep sleeper.”

John scrutinises you a bit longer, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You know he’d squash your offer in a second if he found any wariness in your gaze. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes, letting go of your shirt and slapping his thighs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up and can’t fall back asleep because of my snoring.”

After his shower, during which you lie on your side facing away from the bathroom door, stomach fraught with nerves as you consider the fact that he’s naked in the ensuite, you hear him come out and rummage around in the dresser for a change of clothes. You lie beside him with your stomach twisted in knots, your hands shoved under the pillow and staring resolutely at the wall. 

The appropriateness of sleeping in the same bed beside your boss isn't lost on you, but you're too far into this now.

The bed dips when he settles onto the other side, and the sudden absence of light when he switches the bedside lamp off nearly makes you cheep. 

He breathes heavily, you notice, particularly when he finally falls asleep. It’s a deep, rumbling sound—not entirely unlike a bear, though you can’t really confirm that for certain seeing as how you’ve never slept beside a bear before. 

Those are the thoughts that would signal the approach of sleep if you weren’t soon to be engulfed by it. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to a rough hand stroking your back leisurely. There’s a hard chest under you, your cheek propped up on a pillowy pec that rises and falls with his breaths. Sleep bobs around in you like a toulouse decanter. You struggle to keep an eye open, certain that there’s something you need to tend to, but then his hand slides down your back again to curve over your rump and sleep drags you back down. 

You wake up again to your breath wafting back into your mouth, your face shoved into the crook of a man’s neck. Humid, hot. You’re lipping at the skin of his neck, little tongue darting out to lap up a bead of sweat, salty on your tongue. 

Your cunt pulses against his leg, toes curling when John drags his hand up your thigh and hitches it higher up around his waist. 

“Baby?” he groans, his voice still rusty from sleep. The sound is a rough burr up your spine. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Couldn’ get comfy.”

“You hot?” he asks.

The denial on the tip of your tongue slips back down your throat when he plants his foot on the bed and draws his leg up, pressing the meat of his thigh into your throbbing sex. 

“Here, lemme help you—” he groans, reaching down to ruck up your shirt, dragging it up over your breasts and helping manoeuvre your arms out of the holes. It gets tossed off the bed onto the floor. 

Now your breasts are flat on his chest, smushed against his ribcage. It registers somewhere in the back of your head as inappropriate, but sleep pushes that thought away, focusing instead on the discomfort of moving around when you just want to settle back down and go back to bed. 

It must be the heat making you act this way. 

“Shit—sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, shifting under you. “M’hot too.”

He plants a hand on your ass and heaves you up his chest, giving him enough room to wiggle out of his boxers. It pushes your breasts right into his face, your nipples mere inches from his mouth. When his tongue pokes out to wet his upper lip, it nicks your pebbled nipple. 

A hard length presses against your butt when you’re slid back down, the tip wet when it catches against your skin. 

“Jus’ ignore it, sweetie,” John mumbles, petting a hand down your back. 

You lie like that for a while, splayed over his body. Want simmering just under your skin. Flustered and exhausted all at once, sleep-drained; not a drop of strength in your muscles. 

The heat is just—

Scorching. Dizzying. You feel featherbrained, slipping in and out of sleep, biting off the whimpers that threaten to crawl up your throat when John tucks his hands into the crevice of your thighs to wrench them apart, spreading them around his hips again. 

Distantly, you remember that the man under you is at least twenty years your senior. Your employer at that. A man now palming your butt, sinking his fingers into the flesh and rumbling low in his throat. 

It’s wrong—flagrantly wrong. You know that you should say something, that you should get up and tell him that you’re going to sleep on the couch instead. But your tongue is too thick for your mouth. And your thoughts are a sticky paste. The pulse between your thighs empties out all the common sense from your head. 

His palms are slick on your skin. 

Your breathing grows shallow when a hard length suddenly pushes between your thighs as well. 

When the mushroomed head nudges at your opening, you flinch, heart thumping ferociously against your chest. 

“John—John—” you breathe, panicked. As if to warn him. As if he weren’t planting both feet on the bed and lifting his hips. 

As if it wasn’t his hands, warm on your waist, dragging you down onto the shaft spearing into you. 

Your blood is molten hot in your veins. Sticky hands and sticky fingers curl into his chest hair. Your head thumps against his pecs, too weak to hold it up, lipping at the damp skin of his chest. 

“It hurts—” you bleat, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know,” John pants. He draws his hips back just to press forward again, deeper this time. Filling you up more than before. “I’m sorry, baby—I can’t, it’s just…too good. Shit.”

Resolve in tatters. Shattered like his willpower, like his determination not to fuck the girl twenty years his junior sleeping beside him in his bed. 

His hips pump up into yours, bouncing you in his lap. Each thrust plunging his cock deeper into your pussy. It’d be painful if you weren’t so wet, but you’re dripping, arousal making you leak around his shaft and slickening his way. 

Sleep still rattles around in your brain, but not even the fog of sleep can shake the ever intensifying realisation that you’re fucking your boss. No two ways around it—breasts naked against his hirsute chest; pussy wet and stuffed to the hilt with a big dick. Knocked senseless by it. 

The veins of his cock drag over the viscid walls of your cunt with every thrust. He must like the involuntary noises you make because he loses his rhythm when you cry out, growling out a string of unintelligible curses. His body feels bigger like this somehow, biceps and forearms bulging where they’re wrapped around your waist, hips forcing your legs to spread wide around him, the ache sinking deep into your muscle, into your bones.  

When you look up at him, his eyes are more hooded than usual, the blue of his irises so dark that they’re almost black. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, big arms like steel bands around your waist, holding you tight to his chest so you have nowhere to run. “Jus’ let…jus’ let daddy come and—oh Christ, fuck, fuck…—jus’ lemme come and we’ll go back to bed, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m gonna…” you pant, trailing off when he gets a little rough, pumping harder up into you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his length makes your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah, yeah, you—you come too, baby. Jus’ need to take the edge off, both of us.”

You squeal when he reaches a hand down to dig his fingers into your butt cheek and it makes you tense up, walls tightening around his dick. One well-placed swat hard enough to make the flesh of your ass jiggle and you come, clenching up so tight that his next few thrusts are slowed by your spasming walls, forcing him to really cram his cock into your hole. 

“Christ, that’s cute,” John growls, his pupils blown out. 

It hurts to come that hard; makes your belly cramp up and everything. Whatever gibberish spills from your mouth gets lost in the aftermath. 

That’s when the temperature goes from hot to blistering. The muscles of his thighs tense, straining with his impending release. Even his grip around your waist gets tighter, his self-control steamrolled under his approaching climax, oblivious to the way you squeal and squirm when it threads the delicate needle of being too much. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises, voice treading gravel. “M’gonna mess your pussy up a bit—”

“Wait—wait—” you gasp, trying fruitlessly to lift yourself up, his arms keeping you pinned tight to his chest. “You’re gonna—John, you’re gonna come inside me—”

His hips thrust up hard at your words, one last rough pump that has him digging his heels into the mattress and clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck protruding. You feel it flood inside you, hot spurts of cum right up against your womb. He curses when he comes, eyelids sliding shut, lost in the sensation of emptying himself into you. 

A few last, punishing thrusts that make your teeth clack together. More heat spurting into you. A murmured oh fuck before his legs slide back down the bed, spreading out over the mattress. 

The blanket is somewhere at the foot of the bed, all scrunched up and nearly dangling off the edge. You only start to shiver when the sweat on your back finally begins to cool. 

When he pulls you off his cock, you whimper, a hot flash snaking through you. Oh Christ did he plug you up good. Stringy, viscous cum leaks from your hole, leaving a little puddle on his thigh when you slide off his chest and to the side a bit. 

“Oh baby,” he tuts softly, reaching between your legs to feel where you’re wet and a little swollen. “Sorry, sweetheart…wanna get cleaned up?”

“No…” you rasp, so dazed that you can’t even lift your cheek off his chest. 

Exhaustion has never ridden you this hard before, but considering the circumstances…—perhaps you’re lucky to be conscious at all, is all you mean. There’s not a chance of you having enough energy to do anything as rigorous as showering though. 

“Okay, baby. Little kiss?” John asks in a murmur, lifting your head up by your chin and swooping down for a kiss. Not even giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth is on yours. 

His lips glide slick against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needs a good, deep kiss to ground him. A wet twisting of tongues; a thick finger stroking up your neck. He can’t stop touching you. Running a hand up your spine and curving it back down over your ass. Featherlight touches meant to calm you down. His kisses grow sticky, lingering; each one almost the last until he pulls you in for another. 

“Go back to sleep, okay?” John says, still speaking low enough to push you back under. He smooths his hand down your back again. 

You fall back asleep with a load in your belly and your head in a tizzy. The you of tomorrow is going to have a lot to contend with from the you of tonight.

[chuluoyi]

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and staying at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chimed in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

[shushmal]

"Holy shit, Ed," Steve hisses. "We're going to die."

Eddie, teeth chattering, rolls his eyes. "No, we're not, you big baby," he says. Sure, it's January and there's a foot of snow outside and the heater in their little shithole apartment is dead. But they're not going to die. "Go get under the electric blanket."

Steve shuffles off, still complaining. "You won't love me anymore if my toes fall off. You'll call me stump feet and leave me for a man with 10 more toes than me."

"Oh my god," Eddie says, laughing. Steve's lucky he's cute. "I'll love you even if both your legs fall off."

"Will you love me if I'm dead? Because I'm going to die."

"Oh, just you now?" Eddie turns on the burners and the oven, opens the oven door wide, and starts a pot of water boiling.

"I forgot you're indestructible. Unkillable."

"Hell yeah I am. Like a vampire."

"Or a roach."

"Wow, maybe I won't make any hot chocolate afterall."

"Eddie, nooo," Steve whines, instantly pitiful. "Baby, I love you and all your roach qualities. They're my favorite qualities."

"Okay, fuck you, I'm making hot chocolate for myself."

"Nooo," Steve wails. From the couch, Eddie can see him flopping over dramatically, already burritoed in two blankets. "I am forsaken. Left to despair and desolation. Banished into the cold, chocolate-less night."

"Damn, we've really expanded your vocabulary."

"Fuck you," Steve says, before falling back to whining. "Will anyone save me? Will anyone take this cold, weary soul into his arms? Where is my roach prince?"

Eddie, face hurting from grinning, takes over two mugs to the couch. "Here you goof, now quit bitchin.'"

"My prince! In all his gross, buggy glory!"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

[webism]

☆ Gojo is always so cocky before you peg him. Confident, taking charge as if he's not about to be fucked from behind like a whore. He'll dirty talk you, try to fluster you with his honeyed words as you're pulling the strap on.

"Gonna fuck me so good, baby?" He purrs, wrapping his fingers around the pretty blue strap: perhaps to gauge the size. He jerks it a little, mirrors the way he'd stroke himself to the thought of being fucked senseless by you. "Hopefully you can keep up with me."

It's all talk, a veil of confidence only barely masking his desperation beneath, which burns hot and angry and threatens to ignite into something all-consuming if it isn't soon put out. You think of wrecking his ego, making him get down on his knees and suck the plastic for show. He'd look so pretty, looking up at you through his lashes as he served the strap with his mouth and tongue.

Oh but he's prepped and ready, and you're itching to erode at his cocky smile. You have him lay on his back, so you can watch as his lips curl downwards when you slide a finger into him, rather than the strap he's been promised.

"Fuck, I don't need it," he whines, tries to reach down and pull your wrist up and away from him but you swat him away with a tsk.

"You're so impatient."

"Just fuck me already."

Sweet Satoru regrets his words when you line your pretty blue strap up with his ass and push in only an inch of two. The sharp hiss of him steeling himself with a breath is music to your ears, and though he tries desperately to keep the cocky act up, you can see it slipping.

You give him another inch, and he bites back a moan. "That's... all you got?"

"No," you click your teeth. "But, it's all you'll get if you don't start begging, baby."

He gives you a look, tries his best to look annoyed, but his cock is so hard it hurts and the corners of his lips are curling upwards in a grin regardless. His pleads start out dramatic, joking.

"Please fuck me, babe," he drawls, but as you inch further inside of him at his request, he gasps. Very quickly, any cockiness in his tone is replaced by raw need. "Fuck, more—please, really, I need it."

His eyes are wide at the stretch, the all-encompassing fullness he's feeling, and the grief he feels when you pull almost all the way out of him.

"Wait don't pull out I'll beg I'll—"

His pleads get stuck in his throat when you push forward and bury your strap completely in his ass. Satoru chokes out the prettiest moan, meets your eyes for half a second as you pull back, and then falls into complete ecstasy as you snap your hips back into his again.

From there, he's gone. Malting into the mattress as you fuck him at the pace he responds best to—a torturous middle ground between painfully slow and so fast it's over too soon. Satoru whines, seemingly already overstimulated by your movements, but you're far from done with him.

Satoru Gojo is the strongest. He's untouchable, really, and here you are ten inches deep inside of him and watching as hot tears spring into his beautiful blue eyes. He's sweating, exerting himself entirely to taking all that you can give him; and you're sure he'd take more if you had it for him—he's at the base of your strap and whining like a whore on it.

"Close," his voice is quiet and desperate and you love the way it melts into the air around you. You fuck him harder, faster, a bruising pace that might be more for you than him, but he takes it with shaky breaths and a heaving chest because he's addicted to the shape of your plastic cock inside of his ass.

You fuck him through his orgasm, watch as his cock—which is reddening with angry need—spurts ropes of cum all over his stomach, pearlescent and almost unending. You smile at the sight, stalling your hips to let him catch his breath after cumming so hard without his cock even being touched.

He's a mess, sensitive and breathless as you trace your fingertips through the mess of cum glossing his tummy. Satoru watches with parted lips as you do so, half-expecting you to bring your fingers to his lips for him to clean up the mess he made. But you don't. Instead, you press down hard on his tummy and listen to the lewd noise that rips from his throat when you feel just how deep you are inside of him.

"Here, baby," you coo, grabbing at the wrist Satoru shoots down to try and pull your hand from his stomach with. You press his palm down onto his cum-covered stomach and have him feel for himself the bulge that you've created with the tip of your strap inside of him.

A moment passes, something flickers in your gaze that turns Satoru's mouth dry. "Don't move your hand, Toru, understand me? Keep pressing down."

Satoru parts his lips to protest, but you're pulling out and plunging back into his ass with a mean thrust of your hips before he can say a word. The nastiest moan slips from his lips, half ecstatic, half overstimulated.

"Fucking you so deep you can feel it from the outside, huh baby? Taking my cock so well, letting me use you like you're the toy."

Your words are enough to encourage Satoru into a second round; though this time you're meaner than before. You pull his legs up a little, manage a position that allows you to get impossibly deeper inside of him, and hen thrust your hips forward to test the water.

He's drooling. His lips are wet with spit and cheeks stained with new-flowing tears. He loves it, though, you can feel the clench of his ass in the way it becomes just that little bit harder to thrust into him. With each mean snap of your hips though, you watch as Satoru presses down harder on his belly to feel you bullying your plastic strap into his ass.

You find a nice pace and match it with your fingers wrapped around his cock. Stroking him only makes your lover needier, bucking his hips up instinctually just to gasp at how the movement fucks himself onto your strap too. By the time his second orgasm is approaching, you can't tell who's doing more of the work: he's frenzied and cumdrunk and can't see straight between the blinding pleasure and tears in his eyes.

"Good boy," you praise as he cums again, his whole body racked with tremors and his eyes quite literally rolling back as he releases all over the hand that presses down to feel you. You give him a minute, let his catch his lost breath and wipe his tears from his eyes with the hand that isn't covered in his own cum.

Though, once you're confident he's at ease enough for you to slowly pull out and start giving him aftercare, his legs lock around your waist and keep you buried deep.

You've never seen such a look on his face before—ravenous.

"Again."

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[reignpage]

S o M e a n !

You're gonna give me a cardiac arrest

Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, pure smut, cowgirl, slight exhibitionism, spitting, teasing, edging, overstimulation, nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, cum play, cum eating, face slapping, sub!choso, not proofread

“Ngh, not so fast!” 

Choso’s laid out all pretty for you. His hair’s ruffled and unravelling out of his ponytails, black shirt ridden all the way to his chin, and you had long thrown away his pants. There are faint stains of lipstick, your lipstick, on his mouth, drawing your attention to his plump lips, stretching into an O as he throws his head back. 

“Cho,” you giggle, fingernails dragging down his torso, “you need to stop wriggling around, baby.”

He hiccups, breathing hard and fast whilst he drowns in pleasure. You can tell your boyfriend’s trying his very bestest to stay in the moment, to not lose himself to the growing wave of euphoria within arm’s reach, and it only makes you wetter. 

You lift your hips all the way, until just his tip’s inside. Waiting and waiting until he opens his eyes in confusion, and as soon as his teary gaze meet yours, you slam down. 

“FUCK!”

His abs clench and you feel the hard ridges below your palm. His skin’s so perfect and you can’t help leaning down to press your front to his just so you can lick a stripe up his neck. Choso shivers. Oh and his eyes ares shutting in focus when you flick both of his nipples. He hates when you do that. They’re too sensitive and you never hesitate to use them against him, to make him let out those unmanly mewls. 

He’s whining and whimpering, positively drunk on the feel of you squeezing and pulsing around his heavy cock. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, gonna cum, please!” 

His room’s filled with the filthy sounds of your rough fucking. Always so rough, so mean and cruel. 

Slapping skin, moans and groans, rickety bed, slamming headboard, and underneath it all, is a noise that he’s trying hard to ignore, lest he bursts his load into you before you even cum. Like last time. And the time before that. God, it happened way too often, and he was always so embarrassed, but you would only give him that sweet smile, and climb all the way up his body, hovering until he begged for a taste, to make it up to, to make you forget.  

When you swivel your hips around, his cock head presses against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You grab his hands that are clawing at your hips, torn between slowing you down and holding you steady, and you bring them up to cup your tits. Instinctively, he’s groping and pinching and loving the weight of them in his palms. The boy’s obsessed with your tits, could suck at them for hours, had even cum in his pants from the first time you let him cop a feel, and he can’t fall asleep unless he’s buried between them.

“So pretty -ngh- so fucking pretty. You s-smell really good, really really good. Oh, god…..Don’t stop!” He’s making shallow thrusts upwards like his hips had a mind of their own, like he wants to bury himself inside you. And well, of course he does, you just feel so good, so warm, so wet. 

He’s close, could feel the tell-tale signs of his orgasm rising and rising until…

You pause. 

His eyes dart to you in a panic and you coo. 

So adorable. 

“My friend’s calling me, Cho.”

They are?

He didn’t notice the phone ringing, and when you stretch over his body to reach the nightstand, he’s confused. But he continues to grope your tits, sucking any area of skin he can reach before you’re leaning back to answer the call. Choso has no idea what’s happening, but he doesn’t question you. Maybe it’s a really important call.

“Oh, hey! No, I’m not busy.” His brows furrow and you can’t resist swiping a thumb across his pout. “Yeah, tell me all about your date.”

‘But you were both feeling good, why do you have to answer the call?’ Is what he wants to say but there’s a glint in your eyes that holds him back. Choso gulps. 

And then you’re moving your hips again, slowly, just in circles. You’re grinding down on him, lids fluttering shut at the feel of the coarse hairs at his based rubbing just right against your clit. The phone is pressed to your ear and through the sheer power of being a maneater, you’re holding back your moans. This isn’t about you, not right now. 

Not until you can make him squirt, until he’s overstimulated and he doesn’t even know what day it is, or what his name is. 

“He didn’t hold the door open for you? That’s terrible!” The way you say it, with an indignant tone, makes Choso glad he always opens the door. And you know he’s a good boy, always has been, so you lean forward again, pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb and he breathes hard. He loves when you do this. 

You spit in his mouth and he’s gulping it down like a man in a desert. His cock throbs inside of you and in a flash, like a switch has been turned on, his arms are wrapping around your waist and holding your head down, and he’s kissing you. It’s messy, and he’s sucking on your tongue and nipping your lips. Oh, god, it’s pure heaven to feel the weight of you on him, to feel your nipples cutting into his, and the smoothness of your body so easily accessible. His grip is tight and you can hear your friend calling your name. 

Muting your phone, you pull away and there’s a resounding -SMACK!- echoing through the room. You slapped him. Not hard, could never be too hard, but it’s making his bottom lip quiver as if it had been. You glare a warning at him and he nods, hands loosening and holding your hips instead. 

Continuing the conversation with your friend, you start circling your hips again, and he rubs his thumbs over your hip bone as an apology, willing warmth into your skin. 

Choso doesn’t want to make you mad and it’s killing him that he disappointed you, that he couldn’t keep his urges in check. He’s been bad and he wouldn’t be surprised if you left him, but you don’t, and he’s pouting again. 

You’re so forgiving, so kind, so nice. 

He doesn’t deserve you. 

You know that’s bullshit. If anything, you don’t deserve him. He’s so pliant, always just so happy to be there, to be needed by you, to make you happy any way he can. You know he’d do anything for you. Aside from his amazing dick, you love that most about him. 

Enough teasing, you decide. 

“Yeah, just do your laundry, I’ll wait,” you tell your friend. 

Setting the phone down right next to Choso’s head, you ignore the wide-eyed panicked look he gives you. 

Okay, maybe just a little bit more. 

“Cho,” your voice is like saccharine music, so breathy and light and his heart jumps at the way you elongate his name, “you’re going to have to be quiet, okay?”

He nods furiously. 

And then you’re bouncing on his thighs like there’s no tomorrow, and he changes his mind; you aren’t forgiving, kind or nice at all. You’re very mean, because how can you possibly expect him to hold back the moans building in his chest when you’re riding him so good, so fast, and clamping down until he feels suffocated. 

It’s all too much so soon and he’s biting his bottom lip, fingers bruising as he clutches your hips and then your tits and back to your hips. He doesn’t know what to do except take it. So he does, he accept the pummelling of your squelching pussy, entranced by the white ring forming at the base of his cock, and doesn’t care that his orgasm is cresting again. 

If he cums too fast, it’s your fault. 

“Baby, -ngh- please, I can’t,” he mutters. He doesn’t know where to look either, he’s going lightheaded from the frantic darting of his eyes from where you’re both connected to your bouncing tits and your scrunched up face. “I wanna -fuck- cum, wanna cum inside, please? Can I? Can I?”

Choso’s muttering your name like a prayer, punctuating it with grunts every time you slam back down a little too hard or when his tip brushes your cervix like a kiss. “Don’t wanna be quiet, y/n, please.”

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, maybe hours, maybe seconds, but all he does know is that he needs to cum inside, desperately needs to. He thinks he might just die if he doesn’t. 

“Yeah, go ahead, Cho.” 

That’s all he needs. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, so good so good. I love you, love you, love you…”

Warm liquid pulses through you, painting your insides white, and he drags you over with him. His cum burns like a brand, reaching your very depths, and you swear you feel it fill your heart. You’re spasming, falling forward and moaning unashamedly into his neck as he clutches you to him. You both shake, whining, goosebumps rising along your skin. 

Choso’s loud. He’s thanking you again and again. And you continue to milk him, pumping your hips absentmindedly whilst you come down. But it’s too much for your boyfriend and his cock can’t take anymore, it’s throbbing inside of you as if spurting blanks, and he’s losing his mind. 

“No! N-no more, please, baby. I can’t. It’s -ngh!- too much.”

You stop, huffing a laugh. Peppering kisses against his chin, you wait for him to catch his breath, watching his eyelashes flutter, waiting for that furrowing of his brows to soften and for his hands to stop bruising your skin. He melts like putty underneath you and a smile grows on his lips. 

He feels like he just went to heaven and back. 

But then he tenses. 

“Your friend!”

And you giggle, climbing up to fill his gaping mouth with your tit and he sucks without complaint. “Relax, Cho Cho. I ended the call ages ago.”

Oh, you are mean. So very very mean. 

His tongue flicks your nipple, savouring the salt on your skin as he tries to engulf as much of your breast into his mouth. But you also tastes so good. 

Choso whimpers in protest when you pull away and just as quickly quiets down when you climb higher until your pussy is right in front of him, and he’s watching your puckering hole squeeze out his cum onto his face. He licks it up and his eyes roll back, flaccid cock twitching, at the taste of you and him. 

You don’t sit down though, instead you just slide a finger inside, twisting, scraping his cum out for him to drink. You never let him have it easy, always have to make him work for it. 

And that’s just fine with Choso, because he’s happy to have you in anyway you’ll let him. 

Someone has to be the nice to your evil, after all. 

[robo-writing]

yes!!! sexual teasing!!! i’m sorry i should have clarified

Oh yeah, I can do that.

Poor little thing, he coos, knuckle deep in your cunt. You hiccup with every move, the wet slap of his fingers loud against the four walls of your kitchen. He’s got you balanced against the countertop, legs dangling as he stands between them and plays with your aching cunt. In and out, in and out.

It’s hard to focus like this, when you’re so aroused all you can think about is Logan and his two fingers massaging your insides. Even air stops becoming a priority, a deep inhale only achieved when Logan reminds you to breathe doll in that low voice of his.

This is the third time, you remember, hands buried into his shirt. Maybe he’ll let you cum, you hope.

And just as he did the last two times, he dashed your hopes away when he stops.

Right between the purgatory that lies between heaven and hell, that precarious edge right between bliss and frustration. You desperately rock yourself against his digits only to be stilled with a hand against your hip.

“No movin’ princess, you know the rules.”

You cry into his shoulder, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let out a pathetic little whimper. “Please lemme cum, please, s’not fair—“

“What’s not fair darling?” He asks, scissoring his fingers inside your velvet walls. The action makes your thighs tense up, head falls into his neck as you beg him for more, anything.

“Just wanna take my time, play with my favorite girl for a bit,” he murmurs, right into your ear. “I’m allowed to do that, ain’t I?”

You’re tired—you’re desperate. You’re not sure how much more you can take, but at the same time you know you can’t live without him so you nod your head yes when he asks, gasping when his fingers pick up speed.

With his free hand he tilts your head up, marveling at your lust-glazed eyes, how your head lolls to the side when his fingertips press against your g-spot over and over. The desire written on your face, immediately followed by your weak attempts to push him away as his fingers plunge into your wanting heat. I can’t, I can’t, you repeat, but yet you spread your legs further apart when he thumbs against your clit—a juxtaposition that has him rubbing your sensitive nub in little circles.

“My pretty baby, should see yourself right now, you look beautiful when you’re whiny,” he breathes, and it’s at that moment you let out one of those same noises he loves so much, fanning the fuel to the fire that is Logan’s desire.

“Say, think you’ve got one more in you?”

[creamflix]

flix my love my darling what if we combined jjk and hsr or is this too delusional

LUST FOR LIFE! — jjk x female reader x hsr

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. recurring themes of: established relationship, marathon sex, slight cnc, overstimulation, mind-break, threesomes, degrading, praise, p in v sex. sex toys, cucking, voyeurism, body worship, switch dynamics, oral (m. receiving). guided sex. featuring x reader pairings of: toji fushiguro & sampo koski, gojo satoru & aventurine, choso kamo & dan heng, nanami kento & veritas ratio, and (heinen era) ryomen sukuna & blade

jelli my love you got me slobbering all over the screen with your request. i would have written more but i wanted to include multiple pairings so it ended up as drabbles instead ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i hope you like these <3 requests are still open for those who are interested, just send in an ask. 

— general masterlist ☆

TOJI FUSHIGURO AND SAMPO KOSKI — BUSINESS DEALS!

toji had a habit of turning things up a notch, but this? this was a different league altogether. 

when you first saw sampo koski at your doorstep, looking like trouble in an expensive coat with a shit-eating grin, you thought it was just one of toji's stupid pranks.

“brought reinforcements,” toji had said, voice dripping with smug amusement. sampo, ever the showman, swept into the room like he owned it, opening a sleek case filled with an impressive lineup of toys. your face burned, mortification clashing with a thrill you couldn’t deny.

and now? god, you were wrecked. sprawled out on the bed, legs trembling, body hypersensitive, and your mind a haze of overstimulation. sampo’s laugh was low and teasing, his voice dripping with condescension. “look at you, so eager to thank us for every little thing. who’s my favorite little client, huh?”

toji’s hand, firm and warm, pressed on your lower back, pinning you down as he leaned close to your ear. “ye got a lotttta stamina, babe, but you don’t think we’re stoppin' now, do ya?”

every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips only fueled their sadistic amusement. sampo alternated between cruel, taunting comments and offering you praise that made your head spin, while toji took full advantage of your pliant state, whispering filthy things about how good you looked falling apart for them.

it was endless, round after round, with every toy from sampo’s collection coming into play. the overwhelming sensations had you slurring broken words of gratitude and sobbing from the sheer intensity, unable to think, just feel.

“we might have to invest in more,” sampo mused, twirling a dildo in his hand like it was a business proposition. “our sweet little thing here seems to have a taste for luxury.”

toji laughed, a dark and throaty sound. “oh, don’t worry, she’ll take everythin' we give her. wouldn’t want her to get spoiled though… unless you like bein' spoiled, baby?”

you could barely respond, too lost in the haze, but the smirk they exchanged promised that your torment — and pleasure — was far from over.

GOJO SATORU & AVENTURINE — ALL IN!

“a brother from another mother,” gojo had said with that usual mischievous grin, clapping aventurine on the shoulder like they weren’t both trouble incarnate. aventurine, all sharp smiles and unnerving eyes, had leaned in, his sandy-blond hair catching the light, and said, “nice to meet you, sweetheart. gojo’s told me allll about you. every. single. thing.”

you didn’t know if it was the way aventurine’s voice dripped with something wicked or the way gojo gave him a knowing smirk, but you had a feeling this meeting wasn’t going to stay innocent for long. and god, were you right.

now? now you were caught between them, your senses obliterated, every nerve ending alight. aventurine’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “think you can handle another round, sweetheart? satoru says you’re good for it, but I’d like to see for myself.”

“she’s better than good,” gojo cut in, his tone smug as his hand trailed down your side, igniting shivers in its wake. “but let’s make this fun — wanna bet how long it takes before she’s begging again?”

aventurine’s grin widened, all teeth and danger. “oh, you’re on. but let’s not stop there. how about we bet on how many times she screams my name?”

you were barely holding it together, their words tangling in your hazy mind as their hands and mouths worked you over. every move was calculated, every kiss, every thrust a competition to see who could unravel you faster.

aventurine was smooth and precise, his calculated touches finding every spot that made you see stars, while gojo was relentless, teasing and taunting as he pushed you to your limits. they coordinated like they’d done this a hundred times before, one filling the spaces where the other left off, leaving you no room to recover.

“look at her,” aventurine said, his voice a low purr as he watched your trembling form. “a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, sweetheart? don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. maybe.”

“nah,” gojo chimed in, his grin never faltering. “she loves it. just look at how she’s clinging to us — like she doesn’t want it to end.”

you could barely respond, lost in the pleasure as their playful banter became background noise to the overwhelming sensations. every sound you made, every time your body betrayed you, only fueled their competitive fire.

“i think that’s my point,” aventurine declared triumphantly when you screamed his name, your voice cracking from the intensity.

“oh, don’t get cocky,” gojo shot back, his tone light but his actions anything but. “we’re just getting started.”

and you? you couldn’t even protest. not that you wanted to. you were here to enjoy the ride, and with these two, it was shaping up to be the wildest ride of your life.

CHOSO KAMO & DAN HENG — SOCIALLY FUCKED ANXIOUS!

choso had always been your sweet, reserved boyfriend — the type who’d spend hours listening to you, loving you with a quiet devotion that melted your heart. so when he mentioned he was making friends, especially someone like dan heng, you couldn’t have been prouder.

but this? this was unexpected.

dan heng, all elegance and composure, was seated next to choso, his blue eyes studying you with a mix of intrigue and desire that sent a shiver down your spine. choso, your shy, anxious boyfriend, was the one who suggested it. his voice soft but firm, his dark eyes burning with an intensity you didn’t know he had. “only if you want to,” he murmured, his hand holding yours with that same gentle warmth you’d always known.

and now here you were, sandwiched between them, their lips worshipping every inch of you. dan heng’s kisses were slow, deliberate, trailing down your body with reverence, while choso stayed closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmured sweet reassurances.

“you’re so beautiful,” dan heng said softly, his voice like silk, as his hands mapped your curves.

choso nodded, his voice thick with adoration. “perfect. always perfect.”

but their tenderness didn’t last. it wasn’t long before patience gave way to raw hunger. dan heng’s composure cracked first, his movements becoming urgent as he gripped your hips, his kisses turning into bites that left you gasping. choso followed suit, his shyness replaced by a desperation you’d only seen glimpses of before, his hands firm as they guided you exactly where he wanted.

their rhythm was relentless, their coordination uncanny as they pushed you to multiple orgasms over and over again. choso’s soft murmurs of praise contrasted with dan heng’s deep, rumbling groans, the combination leaving you breathless and shaking.

“you can take it,” dan heng growled, his usual calm voice tinged with something feral as he watched you writhe between them.

“you’re doing so good for us,” choso added, his tone still laced with love, even as his thrusts grew rougher, more insistent.

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body overwhelmed by their touch, their intensity. all you could do was surrender, grateful for every moment, every sensation.

as the night blurred into a haze of pleasure, one thought lingered in your mind: you were so glad choso had stepped out of his comfort zone. if this was what friendship brought, you were more than happy to let him keep making new ones.

NANAMI KENTO & VERITAS RATIO — LESSON IN RELIEF!

nanami had always spoken highly of veritas ratio, his tone fond yet full of respect whenever his name came up. “a genius,” he would say, “but insufferably eccentric.” still, he admired ratio’s dedication to teaching and his unmatched intellect, and when his best friend visited, nanami insisted on inviting him to stay at your home.

ratio was a sight to behold — his wavy violet hair fell over one eye, the other catching you with its piercing, dual-toned gaze. he was polite, almost reserved, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his mind at work, constantly analyzing, constantly thinking.

you hadn’t expected the night to turn this way.

“she’s yours for the evening,” nanami had said, his voice calm, almost businesslike, as though he were discussing dinner plans instead of offering you up to his best friend. “i know how taxing your work is, ratio. consider it my way of thanking you for all the years of friendship.”

ratio hadn’t needed to be asked twice. his demeanor shifted as he approached you, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. “a most generous gift, nanami,” he said, his tone smooth, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “i promise to make the most of it.”

you had barely registered the words before ratio’s hands were on you, firm yet measured, like he was solving a complex problem with precision. his lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot as he murmured, “so eager to help, aren’t you? a willing participant in your husband’s… generosity.”

nanami watched, seated nearby with a glass of whiskey in hand, his expression composed but his eyes betraying a flicker of satisfaction. “don’t go too easy on her, ratio. she can handle more than she lets on.”

ratio chuckled, low and dark, as his hands roamed your body. “oh, i don’t intend to.”

he wasn’t gentle — not entirely. his movements were calculated, his touch almost clinical at first, but it didn’t take long for his restraint to unravel. his words came fast, sharp, like a lecture, each one making you tremble under his control.

“you’re quite the distraction,” he mused, his voice edged with amusement. “no wonder nanami looks so content these days. it seems i underestimated just how… accommodating you are.”

you barely heard nanami’s low chuckle over your own gasps and moans, your body responding to ratio’s relentless attention. his strength surprised you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you past every limit you thought you had.

“good girl,” ratio praised, his voice a mix of condescension and admiration as he watched you fall apart. “you’re learning quickly. maybe there’s hope for the future generation after all.”

“she’s an excellent student,” nanami added, his tone warm with pride. “but she’s all yours for now, ratio. don’t hold back.”

and ratio didn’t. by the end of the night, you were utterly spent, every nerve in your body alight, your mind foggy with exhaustion and satisfaction. as you lay there, caught between them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have a husband so generous — and a man like ratio to appreciate the gift.

RYOMEN SUKUNA & BLADE — A LORD’S DECREE!

sukuna was as cruel as he was powerful, a lord whose sadistic streak ran deep. you had earned your title as his consort, climbing from the ranks of his concubines, yet even now, his affection came wrapped in torment. his amusement at your expense was a constant reminder of his dominion over you.

tonight was no exception.

“you’ll honor my general,” sukuna commanded, his voice a rumble of authority as he reclined on his throne, sharp eyes watching you like a predator savoring its prey. his lips curved into a smirk, his four arms resting lazily, exuding dominance.

before you stood blade, the general who had delivered yet another victory in sukuna’s name. he was imposing, with dark blue hair tipped in crimson, his red eyes sharp and unyielding. the bandages on his body only added to his aura, a testament to his countless battles.

“kneel,” sukuna ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

you obeyed, trembling but determined not to falter under your lord’s gaze. blade remained stoic, his expression unreadable as you lowered yourself before him.

“use that mouth of yours well,” sukuna drawled, leaning forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “but remember, pet, blade knows better than to take liberties. isn't that right, general?”

blade’s deep voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “of course, my lord. your word is absolute.”

you began, your movements tentative at first, the weight of sukuna’s gaze a constant pressure. blade’s restraint was palpable, his body tense as you worked, every sound you elicited from him controlled, calculated.

“good,” sukuna murmured, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction. “you should feel honored, blade. not everyone gets to enjoy my consort’s talents.”

blade’s only response was a low grunt, his eyes flickering to sukuna briefly before returning to you. his self-control was admirable, but you could sense the strain, the effort it took for him to abide by sukuna’s decree.

“don’t get greedy,” sukuna warned, his tone sharp as a blade. “you know the consequences if you so much as think about taking more.”

blade’s voice was a strained rasp. “i wouldn’t dare, my lord.”

sukuna chuckled darkly, his amusement clear as he watched the scene unfold. “good. remember your place, general.”

you could feel your own limits approaching, the intensity of the situation overwhelming, but sukuna’s laughter reminded you that this was as much a test for you as it was for blade.

“don’t stop now, pet,” sukuna said, his grin widening. “you wouldn’t want me to think you’re slacking, would you?”

you shook your head weakly, redoubling your efforts despite the ache in your jaw, the humiliation of it all only fueling sukuna’s sadistic pleasure.

when it was finally over, blade stepped back, his expression unreadable, though you could see the faintest flicker of gratitude in his eyes. sukuna, meanwhile, looked utterly pleased, his laughter echoing through the chamber.

“a celebration worthy of my general,” sukuna declared, his tone mocking. “well done, pet. perhaps you are worthy of your title after all.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling as you knelt before him, his cruel gaze still heavy on you. being sukuna’s consort meant enduring his games, his punishments, and his praise — if it could even be called that.

and yet, you wouldn’t dare question your place by his side.

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[hhughes]

wait imagining cuddling on quinn’s lap on a rainy day and you’re just so cozy in warm clothes

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ oh to be cuddled up with quinn hughes on a rainy day is everyone’s dream I fear. mentions of quinn’s beard in this cause i’m obsessed🤧

you awoke to the soft patter of rain drops on the bed room window, the spot next to you empty but with a lingering warmth that told you quinn hasn’t been up long.

you enjoy the feel of your warm little cocoon a while longer before deciding to get up, grabbing one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and tugging it over your head as you shuffle out of the bedroom and into the living room where you knew quinn was sitting on one of the couches.

and that’s exactly where you found him, grey sweats and a white tshirt, hair slightly ruffled from sleep and a few weeks worth of scruff on his face. he takes a slow sip of his coffee, sending you a fond smile when he notices your presence.

“mornin baby” he says, lifting his arm that wasn’t holding the cup, beckoning you towards him and he pulls you into his lap as soon as you’re close enough.

“you want a sip?” he asks, holding his coffee out to you and you shake your head.

“no? want me to make you something else?” he asks, thumb softly tracing patterns on your skin beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, and you shake your head again.

“okay,” he says, pulling you in closer and kissing your temple.

“can we just have a cuddle day today. it’s the perfect weather for it,” you ask, glancing outside where the rain pour was only intensifying.

“whatever you want sweetheart. think i’m gonna make soup later, mom’s recipe,” he says and laughs slightly when you perk up excitedly. he knew how much you loved ellen’s soup recipe’s and god knows the woman had a different one for each occasion.

“you warm enough?” he asks when he notices a shiver racking your body. “I can turn up the heat,” he says and moves to get up but your hand on his chest stops him.

“it’s not the cold that’s making me shiver quinn,” you explain and it takes him a moment but eventually he realizes what you mean, his hands tightening around your waist.

“oh,” he says, smirking when you shiver again as he runs his hand up and down your bare spine.

you use his moment of brief distraction to wiggle your cold toes under his leg and he hisses as he feels the cold even through his pants

“jesus woman. you have toes or icicles on those feet,” quinn jokes, smiling as you giggle into his chest

“you love me and my icicles” you retort and laugh more as his beard scratches against your neck as he playfully nips at the skin

“yeah, I do” he says affectionately, pressing another kiss to your head as you both watch the rain fall down for another few minutes as both of you wake up fully.

rainy days were your favourite as long as you could spend them with quinn.

[suiana]

Make yandere femboy pls nya (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Pweaseeeeeee

yandere! femboy roommate who has a massive crush on you but you don't seem to understand.

"hey i really REALLY would like to eat something, YOU preferrably."

"yeah I'm cooking us dinner just wait dawg"

he doesn't know whether you're playing it safe or just stupid. this guy is pretty sure his signals are straightforward and direct after all.

"do you want to go out to the park together?"

"lol as friends right?"

like??? he's pretty sure he's not speaking another language. do you not get it? are you dumb? or... are you intentionally ignoring the signs? after all... you are also talking to other people. you can't possibly not know that he's trying to get your heart.

"where are you going?"

"on a date, see ya."

oh that won't do. what do you mean you're seeing other people? people that aren't him? how could you do this? he's your roommate! he lives with you and clearly knows you better than any of these other shitheads! so why aren't you choosing him?!

no, he'll make you see that you need him just as much as he needs you. no one can love you like he can. i mean, who was the person who took care of you when you were sick? who was the one you came crying to after you saw a video of a baby panda falling down? who was the one you went to for all your problems?

it was him.

him.

not that random guy on the street, not that cute guy at the coffee shop, and definitely not your classmate. no, it was him. your cute roommate who likes dressing in feminine attire. the cute pretty boy living with you who wears skirts, dresses, and all things pretty. your very own roommate who knows more than you'd like others to know.

"hey, i like you and really see you as more than a friend-"

"yeah cause we're roomies!"

ah, he knows what you're trying to do. you're trying to play hard to get! that's it! there's no way you'd actually get with someone else right?

"lol so meet my new boyfriend..."

"😦"

okay, that's it.

he's more than willing to take drastic measures to ensure that you're his. it doesn't matter if you're a bit upset or confused right now, he'll help you realise your true feelings. your true love for him. because that's what a good roomie does, right? they help you when you need it.

and he's the ultimate roomate. so much so that he's certain he'll be your boyfriend by the end of it all.

all yours to do what you want. just accept him and everything will be alright.

[caitified]

Hi can you please try to do Paige x reader wife. Where in they both want to have kids so they do IVF and after a year of trying reader is finally pregnant and Paige is so thrilled. Also, can it please be like first trim, second trim, and last trim until she gives birth? I hope you try this one out please. Thank you so much! And I just want to say how I love your witting!🩷

beginning

paige bueckers x reader

warnings:none, this will be the start of my new paige family series! feel free to drop ideas in my inbox. hope this is ok for you, i can into more detail if you’d like!

the first time you see the positive pregnancy test, you don’t believe it. after months of negative results, doctors’ appointments, and so many nights spent comforting each other when it felt like nothing was working, it doesn’t feel real.

but it is.

you call paige into the bathroom, your hands trembling as you hold the stick. “paige,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

she looks at you, confused for a second, before her eyes fall on the test. when she sees the two pink lines, her face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“oh my god,” she breathes, taking the test from your hands and staring at it, her lips curving into a shaky smile.

“it’s happening,” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks.

paige pulls you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. “we’re having a baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

the first trimester is a mix of excitement and nerves. paige is constantly hovering, making sure you’re eating enough, resting enough, and not lifting anything heavier than a pillow.

“babe, i can carry the groceries,” you laugh one afternoon as she insists on hauling every single bag into the house.

“not a chance,” she replies, grinning. “our baby’s in there, and i’m not taking any risks.”

she spends hours reading parenting books, bookmarking baby names on her phone, and talking to your growing belly even when it’s too early for the baby to hear.

“hi, little one,” she whispers one night, her hand resting gently on your stomach as you lie in bed. “it’s me, your mama. i can’t wait to meet you.”

you can’t help but fall more in love with her every day.

by the second trimester, your bump has started to show, and paige is obsessed.

“look at you,” she says one morning, her hands gently cupping your belly as you get dressed. “you’re glowing.”

“i’m sweating,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but her grin is contagious.

she goes with you to every doctor’s appointment, holding your hand during the ultrasounds and tearing up when you hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

“that’s our baby,” she whispers, her voice full of wonder.

she also becomes extremely protective. when a random person at the grocery store tries to touch your belly, paige steps in with a polite but firm, “please don’t.”

“you’re like a guard dog,” you tease later, and she shrugs, unapologetic.

“i’m just taking care of my girls,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

the third trimester is harder. your back aches, your feet are swollen, and you’re more exhausted than ever. but paige is there for you through it all, rubbing your feet at night, running out to get your weird cravings, and reminding you how beautiful you are even when you don’t feel like it.

“you’re amazing,” she says one night as she helps you settle into bed, her hand resting on your belly. “i don’t know how you’re doing this.”

“because i have you,” you reply, your heart swelling as she leans down to kiss you softly.

she’s the one who sets up the nursery, carefully assembling the crib and decorating the walls with soft colors and tiny basketball decals.

“our kid’s going to be a baller,” she says proudly, and you laugh, knowing she’s probably right.

when the contractions finally start, paige is a mix of nerves and excitement. she holds your hand the entire time, whispering words of encouragement and brushing your hair out of your face.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” she murmurs, her voice steady even though you can see the tears in her eyes. “i’m so proud of you.”

and when your baby is finally born—a tiny, perfect girl—paige is the first to hold her, her hands trembling as she cradles your daughter against her chest.

“she’s perfect,” paige whispers, tears streaming down her face as she looks at you. “thank you. thank you for her.”

you smile, exhausted but so full of love, watching as paige presses a gentle kiss to your daughter’s forehead.

“we did it,” you say softly, and paige nods, her eyes never leaving your baby.

“yeah,” she whispers, her voice full of awe. “we did.”

[gwendolynnderolo]

critical role ships as hozier songs

vax / keyleth : francesca

percy / vex : work song

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

fjord / jester : nobody

beau / yasha : as it was

caleb / essek : from eden

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

orym / dorian : like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

specific lyrics that i feel like represent the pairings under the cut!

vax / keyleth : francesca

how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?

my life was a storm, since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?

if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i'd go through it again

it was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away

i would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i

percy / vex : work song

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

and i was burning up a fever, i didn't care much how long i lived

but i swear, i thought i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong i did

if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

in the low lamplight, i was free, heaven and hell were words to me

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

she moved with shameless wonder, the perfect creature rarely seen

her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me

wondering who i copy, mustering some tender charm

breaking if i try conveying, the broken love i make to her

fjord / jester : nobody

i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

but i've had no love like your love from nobody

if i had the choice between hearing either noise, the excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice

and on the other side, why should we deny the truth? we could have less to worry about, honey, i won't lie to you

beau / yasha : as it was

and in a few days i will be there, love, whatever here that's left of me is yours, just as it was

the lights were as bright as my baby, but your love was unmoved

tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me and how long i've been away

the shape that i'm in now, your shape in the doorway, make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day

and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too

caleb / essek : from eden

there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?

honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, i should know

there's something broken about this, but i might be hoping about this

a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

give your heart and soul to charity, cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey, belongs to me

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?

if i was born as a blackthorn tree, i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

ain't it the life of you, your lightning of the blaze?

orym / dorian : like real people do

i will not ask you where you came from, i will not ask and neither should you

i know that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago

honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

i knew well from our first hookup, the look of mischief in your eyes

your friends are a fate that befell me, hell is the talking type, i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight

honey, i laugh when it sinks in, a pillar i am, upright

now that the evening is slowing, now that the end's in sight, honey, it's easier knowing what you'd do to me tonight

oh, let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised and that kind of love

[leona-hawthorne]

if cigarettes after sex had existed in the 90s, mattheo riddle would have listened to them 24/7

you cannot tell me that this isn’t his vibe.

his favorite songs would be:

pistol — it’s his favorite song by them in general, but it’s also his go-to breakup song. sure, he's had lots of flings, but after his first real love, this song is on repeat 24/7. "i’ll waste my time / 'til you lift me off the floor and love me again." mattheo riddle clings. he doesn't know how to move on. this song perfectly captures his desperate need for validation and affection, even though he pretends he doesn’t care.

each time you fall in love — one thing that mattheo is good at, is shutting people out. this song speaks to disillusionment in love, something mattheo would struggle with as someone who yearns for connection yet fears abandonment. the lines “each time you fall in love / it's clearly not enough” and "all I wanna know is if you love her / how come you never give in?" feels like his inner monologue whenever he pushes someone away or spirals into self-doubt.

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby — 100% resonates with mattheo because, deep down, he's desperate to find someone who truly sees him—beyond his father’s shadow, beyond his walls. "nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, as long as you're with me" —the kind of promise he wishes someone had made to him during his lonely childhood, and one he secretly wishes he could make to someone he loves.

apocalypse — i don't know about you guys, but in my head at least, mattheo is a hopeless romantic at heart. he may act like he doesn't need anyone but, this song? it makes him feel like he's dancing with his lover in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, unafraid of death as long as he's wrapped in their arms. buuut that sounds cheesy which is why he'd never tell anyone. “when you're all alone / i'll reach for you / when you're feelin' low / i'll be there too.” oh, how he wishes someone would say those words to him

sweet — "it's so sweet, knowing that you love me / though we don't need to say it to each other" — yeah, lets be real. words of affirmation is not mattheo's love language, at least not at first. the words, "i love you," scare him. he's got a hesitancy to vocalize things, relying on gestures, touches, and moments rather than words. this song makes him feel like he doesn't need to be ashamed of that.

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

[tinybeetiny]

Again and Again: J.W

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

I've been DYING to write a Wooyoung smut, he's just so... bratty in the most dom way ever... FUCK

->Starring: Dom!Bratty!WooyoungxAfab!Sub!Reader ->Genre: Smut ->Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form ->Cw: Multiple orgasms, denied orgasm, overstimulation, edging, begging, vibrator, spanking, light bondage, degradation, praise, squirting

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

2 hours. 2 very long hours and your cries were music to his ears “What’s wrong baby? I thought you could take it” his voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone as he lets out a cackle “Woo please can’t take it” your words aren’t forming into a full sentence, the only thing you can focus on is the vibration on your clit and the 6 ruined orgasms. "Are you tapping out already? Oh, honey. We haven't even gotten started" You let out a whine as he presses the wand harder against your clit "I haven't even turned it up all the way up and you're an absolute mess, look at how you're soaking the sheets" He tsks while turning the vibrator up. Your body jolts and a scream escapes your lips "S'too much Youngie please please can't fuck" Your pants come out heavy as you pull on the restraints in hopes of escaping the brutal torture he was putting you through, but deep down you loved it and he knew it. You feel another orgasm approach and your hips subconsciously grind against the toy but before you can let go Wooyoung pulls it off "No no no no please Woo, please. I wanna cum please." You sob and he grins at the tears that fall "Oops! Were you close? I didn't realize." He shrugs. You let out another little scream and your body twitches as he casually places the wand back on your sensitive nub "Well go on. Cum. You were just begging" and like the good girl you were you did what he said. He let out a moan as he watched your eyes roll back, mouth open but no sound coming out. Your orgasm was so intense from how many times he edged you. The sigh of you clenching and your cum leaking out like a faucet was something that will forever be engraved into his brain "That's it baby cum for me" "Oh fuck Woo" Your thighs shake as you ride out your orgasm and to your surprise, he doesn't stop "No no Woo please. Too sensitive fuuuckkk" Your whines are loud but he only turns it up "You wanted to cum, so you're gonna keep cumming"

2 orgasms later and you're completely spent but does that stop him? Absolutely not. If anything, your screams and little whines were only encouraging him "One more? No? Oh come on you can give me one more." You shake your head no but the burning in your stomach is undeniable "Oh god m'gonna cum again" "That's it, such a good little pussy" he watches as your back arches off the bed and his eyes widen when he sees you gushing all over the sheets. Your body thrashes as broken gasps leave your lips “Well I definitely wasn’t expecting that! I didn’t know you could do that!” His excitement was overwhelming. He set the toy to the side as your body starts to relax “d-didn’t know either” your words are stuttered feeling absolutely exhausted “Oh we have to do that again” his smile widens when you shoot him a glare.

[archangeldyke-all]

I love all of the isha, jinx, reader and sev found family so much.

Was wondering about a reader who had a shaky relationship with their family. A couple of ideas. Maybe they are so worried about hurting isha, or they don't really know much about parenting and family. Maybe they are just hesitant. Or they don't talk too much either, but connect with isha.

I have no clue, would love anything, love your writing so much!! Totally fine if not I hope you have an awesome day either way :))

- 🌱

eeeee gonna combine this!!

thinking abt jinx isha and sev snuggling up to reader when she’s sad :(

men and minors dni

there are days, for both you and sevika, where the abundance of love from your new found family overwhelm you.

neither of you had the best childhoods. neither of you are close with your families now. and sometimes realizing that this is what a family is supposed to feel like kinda paralyzes you.

it's a horrible combination of grief and horror for your younger self, and for jinx and isha before they had you, and a gratefulness that you've managed to escape the cycles of abuse that have haunted your bloodlines.

it happens to sevika most often. jinx will spill a glass at dinner and you'll all calmly clean it up, giggling and teasing jinx for her butterfingers-- and sevika will get choked up with how easy it is. how little yelling, bleeding and crying had to occur for the problem to be solved.

she usually has to take a minute to herself, sometimes dragging you with her to the bedroom to bury her face against your neck and breathe in your scent as she calms down.

but after a few minutes, it washes over her, and she's back to her normal self.

it's different for you. it isn't little moments that trigger it, it just creeps up out of nowhere. you'll wake up one morning with the weight of the world pinning you to the bed, and you just won't be able to get up.

today's one of those days.

you don't know why it's happening now, but it's happening. how could you face a world that would treat a child so horribly that she can't talk? a world where doctors will fuse teenage girls' blood with shimmer, permanently altering her senses and instincts? a world where 'peacemakers' flood the streets with toxic gas?

you can't. at least not today.

"baby, it's almost eleven." sevika whispers, gently pulling the blankets away from your body. "'re you sick?" she asks, feeling your forehead tenderly.

her touch makes you weepy. you take a shaky breath. "i just--" you cut yourself off with a squeaky sob. sevika's face falls, and she quickly scrambles to join you in bed, scooping you into her arms. "i just can't do it today, sev." you say, falling apart against her chest.

sevika lets you cling to her, gently stroking your back and kissing your head as you cry against her. "that's alright, love." she whispers. "i'll do it all for you today."

this only makes you cry harder.

"sevika, where'd you go?! we're about to race rainbow road, c'mon i wanna watch isha kick your ass aga-- oh, shit." jinx cuts herself off, her eyes wide as she blinks at the pair of you. "y-you alright, sweetcheeks?" she asks, a worried little frown on her lips.

before you can answer, little footsteps come thumping toward your room. hurry up, big mama! isha signs as she comes sprinting in the room. her eyes get wide and worried, and she tugs jinx's hand pointing at you with concern. ms. baby, what's wrong? isha asks.

"she's just... having a rough day, kids." sevika explains, rubbing your back for you. a few tears leak out of your eyes at her gentle voice and her careful words. "y'know those days where you just need to be sad?"

jinx seems to understand, her eyes softening in sympathy and one of her arms reaching out to start playing with isha's hair. "yeah, i've had a few of those." she chuckles wryly. "just gotta cry in bed until tomorrow." jinx shrugs. "sorry, sweetcheeks."

you smile weakly at jinx. "'s alright. i'll be up and at 'em again soon."

isha's still worried, though. ms. baby, do you need a kiss? she signs.

you burst into a fresh round of tears, and jinx chuckles, just a little. "t-that would be great, isha." you sob. isha scrambles into bed beside you and sevika, carefully holding your face between her tiny hands as she kisses your forehead. it's surprising just how much her little kiss makes you feel better. you chuckle a little. "thanks kiddo."

"do you wanna come lay on the couch? watch us play mario? you can still cry and sleep, but at least we'll be there to keep you company." sevika offers.

you smile, then frown. "that sounds amazing, baby, but i don't think i have the energy to get out of bed." you admit. sevika scoffs and gets out of bed. your heart sinks, and you choke on a sob. "i-i know it's pathetic, 'm sor--"

"baby, shut the fuck up." sevika says, ripping the blankets off of you. you gasp and shiver, and sevika leans down and easily hauls you up into her arms. you gasp and squeal, and jinx and isha burst into laughter and screams. "jinx, will you grab a few pillows for her?" sevika asks as she starts carrying you into the living room. jinx trails behind you, your pillows and a blanket in her arms.

isha disappears into her bedroom, only to return as sevika's settling you down on the couch, placing her favorite bunny plushy in your arms. bunny will make you feel better. she signs. you start to cry again, nodding and thanking her shakily, cradling the stuffy to your chest.

isha and jinx settle down on the floor in front of the couch, and sevika covers you up with blankets before pulling your legs into her lap and sitting beside you. "you gonna be able to sleep with us screaming at each other?" she asks, grabbing her controller. you chuckle and nod.

"no different from any other nap i take." you tease. sevika grins and you sigh happily, your heart throbbing with appreciation and love.

you fall asleep after sevika falls off the track for the third time. when you wake back up, isha and jinx have piled on top of you and sevika, all three of them snoring as they enjoy an afternoon nap.

despite the heaviness in your chest and your tired eyes trying to drag you back to sleep, you take a moment to remember the moment before you close your eyes--knowing that despite all the horrible associations you've had with family in your past; from now on this is what family will be.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan

[aquadios]

drunk in love | pair bsf!ungwon x fem genre best friends to lovers fluff drunk au wc est. 07-08k aquadios says : first post for the new acc YAY

a sigh escapes your lips for the umpteenth time as you drum your fingers against the steering wheel of your cold car. you’ve been sitting in the parking lot of a busy restaurant waiting for your best friend to appear, given the frantic texts from his friends saying he was too drunk to function.

finally, his figure emerges from the restaurant, stumbling on his feet as his friends try to keep him up straight. you frowned—jungwon wasn’t one to indulge himself in drinks—definitely not when his friends were heavy drinkers themselves.

“oh, jungwon,” you shake your head while keeping your eyes on the blonde. he was smiling and giggling about something, but his gaze was trained in on your car and as he got closer, he found himself walking faster.

although you had expected him to be more intoxicated, he found his way around your car and towards the window of the drivers side.

“you came for me,” jungwon leans in once you roll the window all the way down. “been here for an hour actually.” you smile softly.

jungwon tilts his head, his newly dyed hair falls to the side and he smells like whiskey. to you, your best friend was undeniably beautiful—everyone knew that—but if felt wrong for you to think those things.

jungwon was a friend to you, always has been; however, recently, your heart has been telling your brain something else. mixed signals seemed to be the only feelings you could conjure up about yang jungwon. he was a confusing boy and those confusing actions were reflecting the light you saw him in.

the once beige colors you’ve seen him in began to morph into explosions of red and blue and pink and any other color you could think of. he was turning your life into a splattered painting.

and it’s terrifying.

“ah, i’m sorry baby. you should’ve came in, i would’ve brought you a drink.” he leans his exhausted head against your car while closing his eyes.

you’re grateful he chose to close his eyes the second the heat from your nervous stomach ran up to your cheeks. “i need to drive you home jungwon, i’m not drinking.” you whisper, only because you’re afraid how hard your voice would give out.

“do you need help getting in the car? i can ask the guys, or i can help you myself—”

your words are cut short when jungwon’s hand weaves behind your head and jerks you forward, dangerously close to his own. your nose is brushing against his and you could smell the faint scent of his natural musk that isn’t overpowered by the alcohol.

“i was thinking about you while i was here,” his fingers that were entangled in your hair began to move you closer.

“i was thinking about how much i’ve wanted to kiss you,” if jungwon wasn’t holding onto your head, it would’ve blown off.

your chest heaved up and down as you try to find the words to say to him but nothing was coming out. your mind was going haywire as your heart was beating uncontrollably to the point it hurt.

he continued, “there’s been so many moments where i just wanted to kiss you but i was too scared i’d ruin everything,” he sighs and his intoxicated breath almost has you under the same spell.

“you wouldn’t ruin anything.” your voice is still a quiet whisper. “i can only do this when i’m drunk.” he knows he’s a coward for doing this when he wasn’t sober.

jungwon shakes his head before leaning into your lips. he tastes like bitter peaches and years of pining as he uses his other hand to cup your jaw.

if it hadn’t been for the door separating you two, jungwon would’ve pulled you insanely close to him until your hearts matched the miles they were racing.

when he pulls away, he leaves even more kisses against your lips like the alcohol wasn’t merely as intoxicating.

jungwon smiles and you reciprocate his with an even wider grin. “you finally did it!” heeseung yanks jungwon out of the window, shaking his entire body by his shoulders.

the boys gather around whilst yelling drunken hoots and praises as if he had just won a noble prize (to jungwon you’re worth more)

though, in the middle of the chaos, jungwon turns to you, his eyes showcase a string of emotions he’s never felt before and you’ve never seen. he’s sure it isn’t the alcohol streaming through his veins or the hugs he’s receiving, it’s you.

what’s better than being drunk? being in love.

© aquadios | collection

[iwannaleavemymind]

Till his blood technique turns white!!

(Sadist choso)

CHOSO X READER (smut, minors dni you WILL be blocked❤️)

Warnings; degradation, dirty talk, going in raw (wrap it before you tap it!) dumbification, sub! Reader, rough sex, hair pulling, reader gets called yk s!ut, talking her through it, stuff like that.

You’d think choso would go easy on you? He’s so nice towards yuji and yuki-

so why’s he fucking you like he hates you?

But oh god does it feel good.

“F-fuck Cho’ I dunno if I’m-“ a harsh slap on your ass shuts you up, your face buried in the pillow, whining in protest; his cock buried deep inside your cunt, a brutal pace set, hips snapping to meet yours again and again.

“Hm? Cmon girl I know you’re not so dumb after a few strokes, right?” You can feel the shit eating smirk on his lips on the shell of your ear, fucking you deeper in response to your breathy moans, your mind a fucked out cloud of need.

His hands grip your hips so mean- watching the fat of your ass jiggle every time he hits that sweet spot inside you making whines and moans slip past you lips-

He’s so deep too- so mean and so fucking good.

“Hah- fuck oh my god ‘Cho I’m gonna cum!” You moan into the pillow, eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your back being pressed down with one of his strong hands, the other holding you just where he wants you, his leaking tip hitting your g spot every. Damn. Time.

You couldn’t last long, not when he’s fucking you like he knows your body inside out.

White slick covers his cock, lubricating his length and allowing him to fuck you faster, I mean not that you had a problem in the first place.

He was just so fucking big!!

“Dumb slut- Cummin’ that easily hm? Fuck your so wet.” Mean words flow from his lips, his hand lifting from your back to you with your clit, a meek whimper scraping your kiss bitten lips.

Hips pistoning in and out of your tight cunt makes his mind feral, you feel so fucking good and your taking him so so well, he should reward you right?

The sound of skin on skin reverberating throughout the room is the only noise filling it, although besides your fucked out hoarse voice and low grunts and moans coming from the man behind you.

“Cmon baby tell me how bad you want it, how bad you want me to fill that greedy pussy of yours hm? Fuckin- hah- takin me so well”

His cock slams into you ruthlessly over and over, your sensitive cunt twitching around him, squeezing the life out of him.

Your release trickles down your thigh, cumming around him multiple times already, face flushed and pupils blown wide.

“Choso- p-please!” You cry out, begging for another release.

“Mm, not good enough slut.”

You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling your head back and fucking you doggystyle, his free hand grabbing your ass meanly, slapping it over and over, his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

And oh my god. Your orgasm comes so fast and hard you didn’t even see it coming, tears stream down your cheeks from overstimulation, crying and begging for him to slow down, but do you really want him to? No.

Squirting all over his dick is enough to make him go fucking crazy for him, your his. Anybody else’s? They can get fucked.

“Mine, y’hear that? She fuckin loves me hm?”

Your syrupy sweet cunt is teetering him on the edge of being pussy drunk, but god he’s so mean about it too!

“Choso- pleasepleaseplease-!” You manage to whimper out, choking and hiccuping on your words, incoherent babbling coming from your lips.

“Oh fuuuuck baby your so fuckin’ good” he moans out, his lips forming and o shape and his eyes slamming shut as a loud moan flows from his lips, cumming so deep inside you he might get you pregnant.

It’s so messy too, your combined juices making a mess of the sheets beneath you, his cum spilling out of your abused cunt. He releases the grip on your hair, letting you body fall limply into the pillow and pulling out of you with a wet pop!

“Heh- sorry baby didn’t mean to be so mean.”