#and then you had to go and make it about you
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tonycries · 2 days ago
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OL-F*CK-TORY ETHICS?!
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Synopsis. Pheromone perfume? Should’ve thought about the olfactory ethics of driving him absolutely wiId with them.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pheromone perfume (they’re affected), they go FÉRAL, slight aphrodísiacs, creampíes, dúmbification, tummy buIges, MARATHONS, overstím, really néedy boys, GOJO’S POWERS, full neIsons, making Geto whímper, handcúffs (Geto), rough s, p sIapping, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Yes, I think I’m a comedian for that title.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - BREAK HIM!
“P-please-” 
“Hm?”
“Please, doll…”
And it’s the first time in your life that you’ve heard Toji Fushiguro beg - the first ever time in his life that he has. Low, rasping over the deafening snap! of the poor headboard splitting in half, “Mercy- m’begging ya. Mercy.”
It’s hard to think that just a few hours ago, he was trying not to snicker with smugness - pheromone perfume. Really? As if anything in that shiny, half-off bottle could make him lose his composure. 
“Such a silly girl–” Toji had rolled his sage eyes down at you. Tutting at the way you were impatiently sprawled over his lap, waiting for his word. Leisurely, he’d leaned in– well whatever his lady wants. “Told ya already, this stuff isn’t gonna m-make me-”
Oh.
And that was hours ago. Hours. 
But here Toji was bullying his furiously sweat-slicked face into the heady crook of your neck - taking only one singular whiff before he flinches. Hips rutting mindlessly into yours with a smack! “O-oh, we’re not making it hngh! outta this alive, ma.”
It was the fourth time in the past few minutes that he’s babbling those very words into your perspired skin. The fourth time. 
He was broken.
Managing out only a few throaty whimpers when you’re shuffling onto your elbows, all you have to do is give one fluttering squeeze of your gummy walls before something hits your arched spine with a wet splat!
Multiple. Tears. 
“F-fuuuuck–” He’s hissing, sexy baritone thickened with clingy sobs. And the only thing sloppier than Toji’s unsteady tone, was his cock. Ruthless. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–”
“Need a lil’ h-help, baby?” You find yourself purring, head tilting ever-so-slightly over your shoulder to bare Toji with even more of your scented throat. Clouded wafts of it puffing over to his darkened features and making him gasp– “Because-”
In only a split-second, you’re not even sure what you were about to say - what happened other than Toji shoving you face-first into the cushy pillow in nanoseconds. 
Staggering strength leaving the bulging biceps on his big, beefy arms flex, and you keening away into your soft landing. Boneless legs stumbling onto the bed once he tilts his bodyweight onto yours and makes you stumble, “T-Tooji—!”
Oh, the sound of his name in your honeyed tone makes Toji’s hulking voice break out in shivers. 
“S-s’it turn you on ta see me like this?” Punctured with solid, pounding plaps! of his bloated tip against your springy cervix, such a staggering size that tenderized every sliver inside your heated cunt without even trying. His massive arms tremble, “To see me a-all pathetic and ngh- weak?”
Weak. 
But the way he was pinning you down onto the creaking bedcoils and slamming jagged bruises onto your mounds of flesh from behind was anything but.
“M-maybe?” Oh, he definitely was fucking you stupid - because you find yourself giggling. Globs of slippery drool overspilling from your slack maw and drenching the puffy pillow underneath you. So wet n’ utterly filthy that it makes your thighs squeeze, “You’re s-so cute, Toji.”
“Don’t- don’t you fuckin’–” Immediately leaving one spank on your puffed-up clit. Two. Three, just for good measure- shit, Toji really can’t help but bring those sappy, glazed-over fingerpads to his mouth and sucking. 
And the sugary sweet taste makes the man moan. 
“Fuck- fuck, did that p-perfume make her taste even sweeter or what?” 
Before you know it, Toji’s hard, Herculean front is sagging downwards into yours - hunching over, collapsing. He can barely keep his eyelids held open, let alone his glissading body. 
Sinking you ever-deeper into the plush mattress, you swear you could count each and every rock-hard ab pressing into you. The curvy massage of Toji’s pecs rendering your mouth to let off a soft mewl.
And he’s rough above you. Still fucking you in a way that makes your sturdy bed splinter. Dark tufts from Toji’s happy trail scratching the very tip-top of your papping ass with every merciless whack.
“Gonna tell ya a s-secret-” He spills in breathy puffs against your ear, nuzzling the pointed tip of his nose against where your perfume was the most potent. Drinking you in. Gasping. “-b-better not tell ngh- anyone- got it, ma?”
And you almost get the urge to tilt your head back and confirm that this was really your Toji.
Because not only were his choked-up words making you dizzy, so was the way that he sounded right about not. Voice numerous octaves higher, cracking. 
You’d have half the mind to tease him about it if the entirety of your fuzzy head wasn’t completely overtaken by simply the thought of Toij Toji Toji-
“Oi- oi!” Three harshly repeated smacks to the side of your cheek wrench you from your little daydream, until you’re being manhandled with a few fingers around your throat to gaze up at the man himself. Growling, “N-no zonin’ out on me just yet- gotta tell ya h-how much it turns me on, too…”
Oh? Oh.
And as soon as he starts, he can’t stop. Can’t slow down the prattling words spat into your mouth - all teeth and something lecherous. 
You’re squealing once one of his splayed-out palms rover to the bumpy outline of him fucking a tummy bulge into you. 
Skimming across until he could practically feel the rapid ba-dump–! ba-dump–! ba-dump–! being crashed into all your magical spots, “L-look at you taking it allll. Look how hard I am- feel how hngh- fucking hard–” 
He doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for you to know. For you to feel.
Another heavy gulp of the thick air surrounding you two - of that familiar candied smell - and he’s like an animal. Swollen cock stretching your goopy walls until they were wiiidely agape, throbbing a few solid centimeters wider in circumference. 
“How fucking big. Yeah? Hngh- t-takin’ it all like a big girl, aren’t ya?” 
Getting harder just from the perfume. From you. 
One hand desperately claws at his own bustling bulge, the other smearing over your overstuffed pussy.
“O-oh, god-” Your eyes sprint needily to the back of your head, head pushing into the soaked pillows. Toji’s ministrations were heavenly, rubbing quick, jerky heart all over your sugar-coated clit. Faster. “K-keep doing that n’ m’gonna c-cum.”
“M’only getting harder. Needier- fuck, I need you-” Swirling his fat thumb in circles right on time with his globular tip, “My big girl- w-with her ngh- big perfumes. Fuck-” You don’t think Toji even registers when he plants a delicate peck where your scent was the strongest. Moaning. Before pressing two more, three, four- “Don’t want- Need you to c-cum f’me. Need to feel that ngh- pretty pussy cum ‘round my big fuckin’ cock.”
You’re raking your nails down his toned forearms, “Close. C-close.”
“Fucking cum.”
And when you so, your silken soft walls are squeezing Toji’s veiny shaft so tight that it takes him everything in him to fuck you through each white-hot peak. Dragging you across your starry high and then some-
Wiping away a trickling spray of his own drool, Toji feels himself laugh - low and humorless. You’ve found his weakness.
�� NANAMI KENTO - Mr. CEO
Nanami Kento was a gentleman. The perfect sweetheart.
But that was the complete opposite of the way that said Nanami Kento currently had you shoved face-down into his cool mahogany office desk, your delirious tears spilling over in rippling puddles over the expensive wood while he fucked you like he hated you.
“Fuck-” he’s spitting into your open maw, fingers loosening his overpriced tie. Your popped ears ring with a sharp riiiip–! once he tugs your tight satin skirt even higher, rough. “Fuck- not again, darling.”
Before you can even think of gurgling out any coherent syllables, his ragged palm comes striking down on the surface mere inches away from your face with a deafening SLAM!
Meaty thighs rippling with copious shivers from right behind you - Nanami was letting himself heave, he was letting his muscular body pin you down. Sliding the ladder-like ridges of his abs down your arched back.
“Shit. Shit shit shit- not again. M’not supposed ta-” Cutting himself off - gasping - and it’s a sheer miracle that he can even manage to wrench out those growling words at this point. Breath puncturing with a low ah! ah! ah! after every hit of his toned hips against your ass. “I don’t…don’t know why-”
Almost…feral.
You’re both letting your heads drop down at a drunken pace to catch the splat! of those first few ribbons of cum being slipped past your folds. 
Every bludgeoning inch of Nanami’s coral pink crownhead plugs your leaky hole full. He’s fucking in those dewdrops of seed to maze across your gummy walls, leaving sweltering hot geysers pooling on your cervix.
So hot. 
And in the corner of your eye, you’re catching him reel those powerful hips back until only the very tip of his swollen cock was softly pecking your entrance. “Can’t- can’t stop cumming- fuck!”
“Wh-what?” You’re not sure if you heard him right.
“Can’t stop, m’sorry–” He draws a slow five circles around your quivering hole with the very edge. A glossy white lip gloss that cakes over your pussy folds like icing. “Won’t stop cumming. Haaah- your cute cunt…s’drivin’ me mad.”
You feel Nanami’s round-ended thumb plug up the weeping orifice right in the middle of his cockhead, trying- failing to stop his trickling rivulets of creamy seed. Before letting out a pained huff and filling you once more to the very brim–
It was so much. Too much. And it just pained him to not be all sunken inside your hot, pretty pussy.
You whimper at the taut stretch, stumbling onto your unsteady elbows to peek at your husband. “I-is everything alright, Ken?”
Desperate.
You haven’t seen Nanami look this gone - eyes so hooded they were almost shuttered closed, mouth forever parted in awe, cheeks burning with a bright red blush - since the first time he ever fucked you.
So warm and dizzy. 
Your fluttery walls squeeze involuntarily around his puffed-up veins, as if you’re trying to memorize every jagged pattern. Heart racing once leans in with a vulgarly handsome snarl-
“Still here.” He gruffs out a throaty murmur into your rapidly beating pulse, teeth nipping dangerously over the drumming staccato as if to warn look what I can do, my love. And the expression plastered all over his face is nothing if not crazed, “Still there.”
Fuck, that same mantra over n’ over again.
“Wh-what do you mean, Ken?” It takes everything in you to voice out, even the leaking cum that Nanami scoops up dutifully doesn’t compare to just how much wetter your cunt gets at the hoarse baritone of his voice. He was so effortlessly sexy.
“It’s- it’s still there, darling.” And you’ve never heard your stoic husband sound so…ruined. Like he was on the verge of crying - or damn near breaking you in half. Or both.
And how could Nanami Kento have become the boss if he didn’t multitask?  
He was still pounding long, rummaging inches into you after every syllable spoken - hitting the bruised and battered target of your g-spot with a sickly sweet ba-dump! every single time. Not even slowing down to let himself catch his breath after his previous orgasm.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Because even though Nanami’s molten eyes were stinging with tears from the utter sensitivity, even though he could feel his hefty balls flinch tenderly every time they thwacked against the front of your cunt - he still found something dark and deep inside of him begging for more more more. 
Body moving before he could even control.
In only nanoseconds, Nanami interlaces a clawed grip around your throat to haul you up like some glamorized doll. Eyes widening, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and gasps.
“Th-this-” And Nanami Kento never stutters, he never lets his statuesque facade crack with the beginnings of something that almost looks shy. Your stomach twists at the way his cerise lower lip wobbles adorably, “-what is this, my love?”
“Hmm–? Oh.” And then it finally hits you. “A n-new perfume?”
Although it looks like it wasn’t just a perfume. Fuck, you should’ve looked at the packaging a little closer. 
But Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a word. Does nothing but let his lungs drag in a generous heaval of your scent.
And it’s enough to send his needy cock crashing into the very bottom of your sloppy pussy. Your hands scramble for anything - and land on the golden name plate emblazoned with CEO NANAMI while he draws up a looong wet glide. Prying apart the papping mounds of your ass to rut into you impossibly deeper. 
Nanami’s vision clouds and he’s not sure if it’s from the force of the countless orgasms or simply you. His gorgeous wife. 
Wait- wife?
Before he knows it - before he can stop himself - he’s babbling away, “Marry me- marry me, my love.”
“But…” You’re reaching over to tangle your fingertips through his dishevelled strands of gold with a smile. Thumbing away that perspired furrow in his brow, “We’re already hah! married, Kento.”
Oh?
And Nanami Kento trusts you above him. Which is why he finds his eyes rovering down to steal a glance at your pretty ring finger and- oh. You were right. 
“Mhm— tha’s me, Kento. Your husband.” He’s breathing out, one hand tracing over the staggeringly large rock homed prettily on your wedding ring. 
And the other- the other was letting his fat fingerpads swipe down your buttery slit, topping itself with sweltering hot ounces of cum. Before promptly pushing past your wobbly lips, “Now suck ‘nless you want the whole office to hear about your ph-pheromone perfume.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - T-take it, dammit-
“You- you bitch.” Geto Suguru looked so pretty like this - amethyst eyes fighting to stay open in anger and need, curtaining inky hair splayed out like a halo underneath him. Each growling snarl of his only growing raspier by the minute, “Fucking knew this would h-happen, didn’t you?”
Did you just hear the oh-so-suave Geto Suguru stutter?
And it’s just about all you can do to keep yourself from snickering, hands planting precariously onto the delicious curve of his deltoids. The bulging flex of his toned muscles makes your mouth water, “Oh? I don’t know what you mean, Sugu—”
Geto’s rolling his eyes - but his hips were speaking a completely different language. Rolling up off of the sticky hold of the bedsheets to give your g-spot a good, lengthy skim of his ruby-red tip.
He’s tugging one shackled wrist, “S’that why ya have me in this, gorgeous?” 
Ah, and how could you forget your favorite part about tonight? 
Those fuzzy pink handcuffs that you’d goaded your dear boyfriend into wearing, all smug smiles and chuckles until you’d leaned down to give him an innocent peck. And then let him smell-
“Sh-shit. Look what you’ve done t’me.” He’s hissing into your loosened mouth, snatching your pouted lips into such a bruising, bruising kiss. Sharpened canines digging into your bottom lip, he practically gulps in the breaths of your special perfume. “You and th-this heavenly pussy and that- godforsaken pheromone perfume.”
You were making a fool out of him - all with a “special perfume” that he’d bought for you at your pleas. Idiot, he didn’t even read the box before gifting it to you.
Geto throws his head back with a drawling grunt when the only reply he gets is your pretty smile. “Fuck- fuck!”
Voice pitching up in volume higher and higher- and he was sure he looked crazed right about now. Hips rutting cleanly off of the mattress to spearhead you with so many copious inches. More. 
It was already hard enough keeping himself smooth n’ composed every time he usually sunk past your velvety walls - you drove him wild without even trying. But now? 
Now this stupid “perfume” of yours was here to do the very same thing, only tenfold because it was his beautiful girl wearing it.
Oh.
Geto thanks he can feel himself going wild.
The extra heavy-duty handcuffs sing out a metallic creak–! once he tugs particularly harshly, trembling fingertips aching to feel every inch of your glissading body. You were riding him at such a maddening tempo. Your hips hitting the very back of his generously curved balls, before gyrating your puffy clit down in a slooow grind up his toned abdomen — but he wanted more.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough when Geto was like this.
“When- when I break out of these oh!” With every empty threat puffed out into the heady air, Geto finds his achingly hard cock weeping even more thick rivulets of pre. Lungs filling up with hypnotic volumes and volumes of that scent. He can feel himself fucking tearing up, “F-fuck you.”
He was so sexy like this. 
Trying oh-so-desperately to pretend that those collisions into your gooey depths didn’t have his toes curling, heavy lids falling shut to hide away just how fast Geto’s eyes were sliding to the very back of his head.
You’re arching a brow, “Oh? What was that?”
Lips sleazing backwards into a pussydrunken grin, you had the inkling that Geto didn’t even realize what he was babbling away at this point. He couldn’t even think. “I-I said fuck-” 
Mouth still moving. Soundless.
And all it takes is a mere touch of your sensory fingertips caressing his sweat-lathered temple to render Geto speechless.
“W-wait—” He breathes out, and he sounds hysterical right now. Venomous tone lilting countless octaves higher and wobbling as if he was about to break. His chest caves in with a low please–! once you’re streaking your digits through his silky hair, shivering as if being shocked with a thousand voltages. Pulling. “Not fair. Not fair not- fuck tha’s not fair t’me, gorgeous.”
You already knew that the pheromone perfume had some…aphrodisiacal effects. But it seemed that Geto was extra sensitive to it. Cute. 
“Yes, and?” Just for good measure - oh, you were thoroughly enjoying this - you’re trekking your stray fingertips to latch onto the gleaming curve of his throat. Bringing your scented neck even closer-
“Oh.” Geto’s snarky mouth now floods with a silvery plash of scorching hot saliva, fucked out of him after every resounding slam! of your hips down on his. You watch as his weightily lidded eyes glaze over with a film of something murky.
Continuing to wrench needily at his restraints. Desperately. It was like a second nature for Geto to touch you and right now he was ruined. You can’t help but ogle the rounded flex of his biceps-
“Gonna- fuck.” He whimpers - whimpers - out, nose crinkling. It made you much too drenched when he leans in mindlessly to rub the buttony tip of it against yours in a lazy kiss. Maw slacking every time you pumped his achily swollen cock across your most tender spots, the orifice of your hole massaging his reactive shaft so greedily. “M’close…”
Whispering, right now, as if it was the most dear confession. 
Because Geto Suguru never came before he’d made you reach your orgasm at least five times over.
But right now he was teetering right over the very high edge of it, so close. His thick, sculpted thighs push up from behind your motioning body to urge your bounces vulgarly faster, skin-to-skin. 
“C-close.” And it sounded almost pained if you didn’t feel the way it was accompanied by a hastily slipped spasm of Geto’s ballooned-up crownhead against your cervix. Too close. His beautiful head lolls backwards against the tear-streaked pillows, “M’gonna- m’gonna-”
Before snapping up furiously again when your merciless pace stops.
And all you can get out is a not-so-innocent, “Whoops.”
All you can get out - because it takes Geto exactly two split-seconds to snap! those useless pink handcuffs off of him and flip the two of you over to tower over you in all his glory. Speckles of frustrated sweat slithering between his bulging pecs and down onto your heaving body.
He’d let you have your fun, already.
Geto moves slow. Calculated. 
Leisurely meandering his face all over your thrumming throat, your tits, everywhere and anywhere that godforsaken pheromone perfume was calling to him. Taking in looong languid breaths of it - and each time he did, he’s fucking up into you like he didn’t even realize. 
Pounding you into the drenched silken sheets with all girthy inches of his circumference, branding it into your slippery womb like he didn’t want you to forget. 
You’re hit with the sudden remembrance that there was a reason you had to tie Geto up. 
And that is when you catch his gaze - wide, unfocused. Feral. 
Oh, you were fucked. 
So very fucked. 
“So.” Geto shatters your anticipatory realization with a throaty few syllables, hoarse like he wasn’t even ready for himself to speak at that point. Without a single warning, he spits - right in your mouth once. Then twice onto two slender fingers, before giving your cunt a stinging spank. “Ya gonna beg for mercy now or later, gorgeous?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.
God, if this was any other time then maybe Choso would’ve felt embarrassed about the way he was letting his clammy palms cling onto your waist like he never wanted you to let go. 
Because he didn’t. Would never. 
Huffing and puffing out clouded puffs of air into the sticky valley of your chest, he’s just so drunk on you. Can feel himself veering lazily into the pillow, drenching it with gumdrops of thick saliva. It takes everything in him to lift his head and puff in smoky breaths of your pheromones.  
And it makes him burn. So hot rutting up into you, skin-on-skin. 
Probing veins scouring your every nook and cranny, ruthless shaft the complete opposite of just how delicately he was boring down at you. Choso was nudging his ballooned-up cock past your puffy hole like he was making you melt around him.
Making you break - just as much as he was right now. 
And the only thing hotter is the way the slithering muscle of Choso’s pierced tongue lolls outwards to skim the buttery splotches of cum scattered across your tits from before. Shiny Prince Albert’s cooling you hardened nipples.
Eyes reeling to the very hidden backs of his hooded lids, he’s moaning at the salted caramel taste of himself. “S-so hot. So soft inside, m’ l-losing my mind.”
You’re just soaked skin-deep with him. 
And you’re blaming it all on that strange perfume - a pheromone perfume - that that assistant had dabbed on you at the store. You’d forgotten just how…sensitive curses can be to smells. 
How feral.
Finding your heart racing at the way he was narrating off every single thing, every single twitch inside you that slid across your gluey magical spots. “S’that so, Cho?”
Usually, Choso would nod away deliriously to your every word. Usually, he would prattle on sweet, sweet simperings of his very own.
But right now, you watch in slight awe as the pale skin of his pretty cheekbones scorch over with a brightly blossoming blush. The heat of it so feverishly hot that you can almost feel it, and Choso bucks his hips wildly into you with a low keen at the back of his throat.
“D-don’t call me that.” He’s straining out through a shiver. Lower lip fussed until it was a pouted cherry pink. You swear the moment Choso leans closer you see his long mahogany lashes glisten with tears. His big, beefy arms finding their way around your body, “S’gonna…gonna make me cum. Gonna- fuck!”
As if to prove his point, the perked hill of his fattened cockhead splits with glossy white swabs of pre. Buttering up your deepest insides and promising more. 
You’re tugging him in ever-closer, the look in your glassy eyes so loving that he feels his length pump greedy ounces more and swell. Growing girthier - pushing your glutinous walls further n’ further apart just from the way you’re staring at him. 
How he loved you.
You hum, “But I want you to, Cho. No need to be shy.”
Something in him breaks. And just the thought of it is enough to make the special grade in front of you drool.
Slick rivers of spittle streaming from between his jaw, unhinging when he inches in to gift your surprised tongue with a weighty splat! of webbed spit. He breathes out past the breathless bubble, “No no no no- D-don’t say things like that, baby– I’m not…myself, right now.”
Tasting him. All of him.
The sugary sweet coating lathers your tastebuds and makes you whine, your legs stumbling around Choso’s toned hips. You can feel every tense of his toned core, count all eight of his washboard abs, “S-s’this the ngh! pheromone perfume, baby–? Maybe I should wear it more hck! often-”
“No.”
No?
And Choso can bash himself for interrupting his lovely lady later - but right now, he was frenzied. 
Gulping voluminous lungfuls of that scent - of you. 
Deftly practiced fingers entrap your plummy clit and roll over not circles, not hearts- no, the letters of his name over n’ over. Branding the perked hood of your nub until you could feel your eyes burst with stars, Choso was ravenous. 
“S’because- because it’s you.” He gasps out thickly, smooth baritone unsteady under the weight of all those tears painting smudged eyeliner down his pretty cheeks. “Your scent, n-not that ngh- perfume.” You’re flinching at the looong drag of his scratchy tastebuds dragging over your scented throat. Or, well, previously scented throat. He was addicted to you. “You have me- have me in heat, lil’ human, n’ it’s making me…”
Wild.
If Choso was any lesser man then he would’ve dragged you halfway down the bedcoils and thrown your legs haphazardly over his shoulders. Folding you in half to pound you into the mattress until you were dumb.
But, luckily for your dripping cunt, Choso was that lesser man right now. 
He doesn’t think he feels alive - can’t even register his wheezing breaths once he’s manhandling you into the densest possible mating press. 
Strong biceps rippling, chest heaving-
His fuzzy brain only sparks with recognition when Choso’s heavy breeder balls clench once, twice, thrice at the way your drooling pussy was laminating his rounded curve with a slimy coating of slick. That’s when he can feel himself actually startle, actually see.
And fuck, was it a sight enough to make him cum if he wasn’t so entranced with that prettily awestruck look on your face. 
“Can’t even feel m-my legs, baby-” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, stray strands of coffee brown plastering all across his sweat-slicked forehead. And something in Choso’s voice was…dark. Dangerous. You were in trouble. “-can’t th-think of anything but ngh- breeding this pretty pussy right now.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s what he meant by a heat.
“Mhm– my clever girl.” Shit- did you say that out loud? Rewarding your cutely spellbound mind with a hefty thud! thud! thud! right onto what feels like your lungs. He had all the time in the world to fuck you stupid, after all. “My mate.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sweetener
“H-heh- say that again, silly human.”
“A pheromone perfume.” You’re squirming impatiently, words sticking to the back of your throat in saccharine gasps. And even the tiniest of gyrations leave Sukuna’s ruby-topped heads kissin’ sultry circles around your weeping hole. 
Leave you wanting more.
Snickering, “A fucking- pheromone- what?” 
The monstrous king of curses displays you with a rugged sneer that makes your folds even more impossibly watery. Just for those stupid words stumbling from your mouth, you’re gifted with one - two - three solid spanks, elongated black nails curling into the stinging mounds of your ass. 
It’s all you can do to grapple on helplessly to the mountain of his toned shoulders, fingers clawing red train tracks that look more like kitten scratches on him. “K-Kuna–!”
“Don’t K-Kuna me, brat.” Raw need coats the scorching innards of your mouth when he only rolls his crimson eyes, burning hot. And out of all four of Sukuna’s beefy arms, it only takes one to latch onto the curve of your hips and hover you unstably over his doubly swollen cocks. Tutting, “What? You think some h-human perfume will control Ryomen Sukuna. I must’ve fucked ya dumb already.”
So mean.
But Sukuna always did have a soft spot for you.
And all is a single criss-cross of your wobbly arms, kiss-bitten lips puckering up into the beginnings of his only weakness – your pout. 
“Fine. Fine, spoiled girl.” It works.
Yet, you’re shivering at the thwack! thwack! thwack! of his doughy-tipped fingers swatting your plump clit. Pecs puffing out with pride and smugness when your eyes glaze over at them and you stare.
It happens all at once. In an instant. 
As soon as both of Sukuna’s round, throbbing cockheads crown the edges of your drooling pussy - he leans sultry inches closer and finally, finally smells it. That. 
That scented perfume you’d found in your king’s centuries-old treasury, untouched and just ripe for your picking. For Sukuna to get hit with a thorough blast of it off of your heated skin, simply taking one whiff to addle his honed senses.
Undoing years upon years of painstaking training to make your great king of curses halt, jagged canines baring you with a predatory snarl. “Th-think this can affect oh-”
Who was he against you? 
Your entire body vibrates when Sukuna’s chest rumbles with something carnal. Bursting from the very depths of his chest and making you shiver.
The thunderous noise has barely even stopped ringing in your ears before he’s latching on two massive hands to your waist and pulling you in. No care, no hesitation - nothing but drooling with the anticipation of being buried inside your slick-flooding pussy.
He needed it.
And he can feel his head fall headily backwards at the shuddering thud! of Sukuna’s two proud tips skimming the ends of your spongy cervix. Hooked fangs snatching onto the jut of his bottom lip at the bouncy recoil- 
Fuck, he didn’t want to separate from your gummy walls for even a split-second. Even if it was to let your hips bounce in lecherous swivels up n’ down up n’ down up n’ down.
“Sh-shit, you’re in so ngh- deep.” 
It’s a slow tempo, but you never got used to the stretch that was Sukuna’s staggering sizes. 
Both aching cocks were so unfairly long and hard that he didn’t even have to try to smear his puffy veins over your awaiting g-spot. You swear both lengths reached well over a foot, and just having him bottom out had you scrambling to caress the inflated tummy bulge he was fucking into you. 
Your jaw hangs open, a syrupy waterfall of saliva dribbling all over your chin. You’re not sure if Sukuna even registers the way he’s tenderly swiping away the overspilling excess with a fat thumb. 
“Kuna?” You have to stop yourself from almost flinching away, feeling oh-so-shy at the burning heart-eyes in his gaze. The way a fourth arm was patting the sinful cylindrical outline leading up from your puffy pussy. Reaching an arm to stroke his sweat-matted pink locks, “A-are you okay?”
The moment your fingers skim any part - any minute millimeter - of Sukuna’s body, he’s whimpering. Whimpering. 
And if that was the worst of it, then maybe he could have gathered up some semblance of his shattered dignity. 
But Sukuna isn’t simply making pretty noises - he’s cumming. 
One touch. And a thousand torrents of cum sugarcoating your claggy walls. 
So much of it. Too much of it - it sweeps through your gluey walls and forms a little puddle ‘round his bulky bases. Creamily filthy mixtures of seed and slick ringing Sukuna’s base, they hit your perked clit with a wet pap! each time you’re milking him through his peaks. 
“D-did you just-”
“Shut up.” He bites back, leaving you no time for the realization to sink in - before curling a vice-like hand around your throat and making you slam down your hips. “Shut up.”
Sudden, striking hits that bruise the curve of your ass just as much as it bruised your battered insides. You were so hot. So soft that it made him dizzy. Melty depths being contracted around thick lengths, the pace at which your greedy pussy was swallowing him up almost made the king want to whine-
“O-oh my god.”
It did make him whine.
With a creaking squeak! of cushion, Sukuna’s sculpted hips lurch off of the decadent royal mattress in repeated ruts. Animalistic.
“Shut up- I s-said ngh- s’not my fault.” He spits out, angry dewdrops of steamy pre being streaked out in twin ribbons into the back of your cunt. “Not my fault you just feel so- so ohhh- f-fuck you, brat. I-if the rest of ‘em found out…”
But Sukuna already knew he was weak for you. He knew.
Just not to this extent. 
Not till just a simple cloud of your scent made his vision swim, a fresh wave of drool slipping n’ sliding from between the traitorous slit of his mouth. Both of them.
“M-mhm–” You find yourself smiling - maybe from his reaction, maybe from the way you were being fucked so thoroughly right. The knobbled tops of your knees skid easily across Sukuna’s drenched lap when you straddle him even even tighter, “S’that why-”
He wanted you to shut up. He needed you to shut up or else he was going to fucking cum again. 
Which is why his second cursed mouth opens wiiiide to puff your cunt with steamily clouded pants. Before rolling out his tongue and dragging up the entirety of your bulging pussy. All overfilled with him.
“A-another word–” Sukuna’s seething through clenched teeth, but it’s no use. None. Not when the way you lean in to listen closer is enough to make the king blush, “-a-and I make you walk a- ngh! around the entire day with my cum all safe n’ sound inside..”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “U-use me?”
“Wh-what?”
And for the first time in hours, Ino manages to meet his hazy chestnut eyes with yours. Shivering. Half-lidded. “Use me.”
Fuck.
You thought your beloved boyfriend would regain his senses by the second round- no, perhaps the third time’s the charm.
Okay, maybe the fourth? The fifth?
But even after six looong rounds, your splintered bedframe was still trilling with shrill creaks; sagging uselessly on one end as strong, tannish arms stick ever-closer to your body like glue. Folding you into the meanest n’ tightest full nelson possible. 
Still scorching. Still needy after getting hit with just a waft of that pheromone your friends bought you as a joke. A joke. 
But this was anything but.
Ino can’t even bring himself to wipe away the wads upon wads of slippery drool leaking from his maw after every mushy thud of his globular cockhead against the very back of your goopy cervix. He can’t even think.
“Puh-please.” He’s hiccuping, soft tipped fingers clawing near the sweaty crown of your head to push you further down. Lapping a lazy stripe up your scented neck, “Just one more– ngh! Need you t-to use me to make yerself cum once more, sweetness.”
“M-more?”
And oh, your voice was warbling with such cute disbelief that it makes Ino groan. “Yes. Yes.”
Planting a few more vicious plunges of his strawberry pink tip into the target of your favorite sweet spots - Ino’s favorites, too. Especially once your puffy pussylips part with numerous geysers of slick, flooding translucent rings at his base. 
All without even looking up from your neck.
He can’t.
Ino’s entire body wracks with tremors when he even tries to pull away a mere inch. Two. All that he can manage before nuzzling back in with heavy repeated pants.
You’re only getting wetter - and that maddening little perfume one you? Only stronger. 
He swears - fuck, maybe he’s going crazy - that he can smell just how close you are, how your tummy’s tightening into wiry knots. 
“But- but are you sure, baby–?” Your fingers scratch at the tawny ends of his damp locks, a primal itch so heavenly that he almost purrs. “M’wondering if you even can-”
“I can-” He’s cutting you off, free fingers straying down to the slightly-softening base of Ino’s furious cock and squeezing. Rutting up into you with wild abandon, “I can. I can- promise, sweetness, I promise.”
“Taku–”
And throughout Ino’s hazy mind, your words ring out like a death sentence. Like a punishment. Causing him to snap open his eyes with a sharp intaking gasp, round-topped curves of his knees manhandling your thighs further n’ further open.
You whine at the burning smear, head throwing backwards in a way that makes his slow rovering over your neck break away-
And if Ino was upset before, then he’s simply devastated now.
Sounding like he’s on the verge of sobbing, “No. No no no no no- don’t run, pretty.” Like catnip. Like a moth drawn to your frame, he’s wrapping his jittery forearms around you until you could count every twitch of his sculptured forearms. Crushing you in close. “Look at yourself- smell yourself. Fuck, I need it. M’not asking, m’b-begging you to use me like a…toy.”
He almost wishes he could bring himself to lurch away from that haven of pheromones dabbed across your skin. 
Almost wishes he could do anything else but swivel a fat thumb across your weepy folds, bringing it allll the way up to his eager nose to steal a long sniff. 
Filthy. 
But it’s exactly what makes Ino’s swollen cock perk up with an animalistic flinch inside of you, probing into the target of your g-spot dead on. 
“Shit- shit— y-you just got so much bigger.” Your vision flashes blissful white when his length stiffens into even longer n’ sold inches, swabbing at your precious cunt with pressurized pounds. And whatever ounces of blood left in his melty mind? Oh, they’re sprinting all the way down Ino’s boiling veins to end up bloating his throbbing cock. 
Getting hard just by the smell of you.
“O-oh.” You’re being bounced on top of his toned pecs when they dip with a sudden hitched breath. “Yes. Yes yes yes, jus’ like that. Love everythin’ about this ngh- pussy, she’s started smelling sweeter e-even here, too. Fuck, you’re a goddess, pretty.”
Sounding as if he was in such heavenly agony - husky voice cracking a few octaves higher. His hold so vice-like on you that you can already feel yourself bruising. 
Sloppier. Needier.
Shit- Ino needed to see that dumbstruck look surely being fucked onto your face. He’s finding himself moving - body before mind - to face that reflective, floor-length mirror propped up at the end of your bed. 
He always knew that thing would come in handy.
You’re croaking out a moan at the wet texture of Ino’s mouth watering, sprinkling your heated skin with spatters of spit.
But who could blame him?
It was such a sultry sight - to watch your bloated lips be pried apart by his reddened circumference, spraying out saturated glazes of your sweet, sweet juices each and every time. 
“See? See?” Ino’s murked puffs tinge with something higher-pitched and wild. Pearly white edges of his teeth sink into your delicate lobe, and make your skin break out in goosebumps. “How fucked you have me. Think m’gonna hngh- die if I don’t fuh-fuck this pretty pussy. If I don’t make you cum-”
Shit, he doesn’t even want to imagine the thought.
Your kiss-bitten mouth slackens into a loose oh! “Wanna- I wanna cum, Taku—” Twisting your head ‘round to face him with a slight pout that makes his entire body jolt.
“Y-yeah?” So, so pretty with a dopey smile being spread all across his face, you’re leaning in to kiss the cratering dimple at the edge of his plump lips. “C’mon. Fuck back into me- ngh- use me ta make yerself cum.”
You’re heading his every word, thighs aching at the fatigued pain of bouncing your hips in a resounding pap! pap! pap! Grinding your treacly slit all the way back into his fattened balls, “L-like this?”
“Atta girl. Harder, now.” His brows furrow. “Harder.”
More more more.
Words petering out halfway into a snarl at this point, you glimpse at the glint of Ino’s sharp canines peeking through the mirror. “Fuck me. Fuck me, pretty.”
“Taku.”
And you’re not sure who wanted you to cum more - you, or your feverish boyfriend. 
But your spellbound self had some semblance of an answer when the sound of his name on your honeyed tongue makes Ino flinch as if hit with a zillion volts of electricity.makes him dart down a hand to grace your neglected clit with an oh-so-rude pinch.
Ino’s fuzzy brain wasn’t even working enough to remember those patterns you loved so much. To remember just how to make his body move.
All he knew was that he needed this.
Needed the way you’re arching your spine into the perfect curvature against his glissading front, head thrown back with a mewl of Taku—! once you finally tip over the edge.
He finds his mouth falling gape, “Y-you’re so fucking hot.” Eyes locked on the trembly image of you in the mirror, he fucks you through every white-hot peak of your high. Babbling away,”Did your dear Taku m-make you cum, sweetness? Does it feel good? 
Oh, the audacity of him to tip a few thick digits underneath your chin and force you to nod. 
Giggling, “Thought so-” And then it happens. Then, he leans in for a sweet, sweet kiss as he usually does - only to be wafted with a murky cloud of pheromone perfume. Again. You watch as Ino blushes a soft pink, “Hey, p-pretty…so…”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Everyday is everyday.
Everyday means everyday - and it still wouldn’t be enough. Not even after so many countless rounds and rounds.
Never, for a Gojo Satoru that has to grit his pearly white teeth viciously to stop himself from using just an ounce too much of his strength on your pliable body and breaking you. 
Snarling canines peeking out just when he nestles your legs over two broad shoulders and bends down, down, down in half. 
“Hngh- please—” Your chin hits the heaving edges of your chest at the burn of the sheer stretch. Gojo’s muscular thighs sticking against your own and pressing into the inflated little pouch he’d made at your tummy. Filled to the brim with his sappy cum-
“Th-that’s all your fault, y’know–” He’s hissing, handsome jaw clenching desperately to stop those tremoring keens from invading his words. He fails. And Gojo can already tell by the smug smile curling your lips, “-all b-because of you and that fuck! damn perfume.”
Nevermind that he was the one that bought it for you in the first place - some niche, overpriced brand dropped straight into your lap. 
Nevermind the fact that he had come up with the idea. 
Oh, you should’ve known that this is what wearing pheromone perfume around the strongest would get you.
Because Gojo Satoru was breaking - shattering. 
Every pressurized thrust of his leaking out a new wave of overstimulated pre frosting up your slicked entrance. Accompanied hand-in-lecherous-hand with shockwaves of cursed energy that make your unbolted furniture drag magnetized centimeters all the way towards the creaking bed. 
“Sh-shit your p-powers—” you’re whining, eyes widening at the hazy sight of blue lightning flickering across Gojo’s sweat-lathered body. 
“My p-p-powers, huh, sweetheart?” He’s leaning in to whisper, eyes wide. Wild. Breath hitching so many octaves higher that it sends your spine arching with a goosebumped chill. All into his awaiting touch, “And whose- fault- is that—?”
You’re not sure if you’re a genius - or just plain idiotic. Because even feeling the withheld power being those very same soft palms holding your boneless thighs up, you find it in yourself to snark. “Yours.”
And Gojo almost stops. 
If that didn’t torture him just as much as that would torture you, that is. Instead, he’s slowing down to sleazy drags n’ grinds pressing gluey peck after peck on your cervix. 
Such sweet, sweet leisure - yet, his words were tense. He breathes out a shallow cloud of air, “Whose?” 
Gojo’s tone was dangerous. And his battering rams even more so.
“Y-y- ngh!” Saved by a particularly hard slam of all his copious inches digging into your glutinous g-spot, it leaves a bulky circular branding that stings deliciously with every targeted buck.
You can feel yourself slowly being fucked into stupidity with every swash of thickly viscous cum swirling around your insides. And you already know by the buzzing pressure around his cerulean eyes that he was taking unfair advantage of his Six Eyes to make sure his veiny cock reaches each and every single spot inside your pretty pussy.
Locking your dangling ankles with one hand behind his head - the noticeable flex of Gojo’s pale biceps makes you moan. 
Trapped. 
Oh- how pretty you were like this, he muses, eyeing the wobbly quiver of your needy lips. Both of them. And you were so loud, too - your saturated cunt so desperate to chat up at him with ringing squelches that carry over your adorable noises. 
Maybe he should let you hit him with a waft of that special pheromone perfume more often.
His round nostrils flare, hyper-sensitive senses greedily gulping out each ounce and waft you’re letting off. Every repeated pap! of Gojo’s hipbones follows one of his choked-out syllables, “I said- Whose?”
Someone sobs - and only a few sloppy seconds do you realize that it’s you. Words coming out helplessly garbled, “M-mine.”
At that very moment, a dimly-lit lamp across your heady bedroom shatters. 
Sharp shards of glasses bounce off the two of your fervently glissading bodies, limitless. 
But if that was taxing for the strongest - then he doesn’t show it. Not even a sign. Gojo only angles his hip a few degrees to the right to bounce into your spongy cervix even harsher. In rough, jagged strokes as if it was nothing.
In fact, by the filmy glaze overtaking his hooded eyes, you think that it might just be nothing. You think that he might not even have realized what was happening. 
Pressing a drunken trailway of kisses down the helpless curve of your calf, he grins. Toothy. Animalistic. “Atta girl.”
Pulpy soft tips of Gojo’s fingers slide sneakily down to your messy pussy, drivelling up slow slides up and down your teary entrance. Just until you were getting comfortable - just until you were letting your guard down. Silly girl. 
Before slipping past your tight ring of resistance and prying you open doubly. And oh, you should’ve expected that when Gojo gets the job done - he’s going above and beyond to make sure you remember it. 
That you’re his.
Pummeling right into the throbbing bullseye of your g-spot, the edges of his long digits hit that spot so hard that you find yourself bawling. Eyes snapping open- before promptly closing as you cum.
Your high is a shock - a white-hot mess of such euphoria. 
Tipping right over the edge - and it might’ve been a surprise to you, but Gojo saw it coming a mile away with those special eyes of his. Chuckling to himself at the velvety smooch of your sappy walls milking every inch of him.
“There we go- there we g-go, my girl.” He’s pumping you so thoroughly full that you feel your vision blur, the vibrating buzz of Gojo’s cursed energy being fed into you with each strike. “Cum- cum f’me. H-heh, all because- because of me-”
Your tits bump up into his plush pecs, sensitive nubs of your nipples brushing against his rosy pink ones. You’re reaching out a trembling hand to cup Gojo’s pretty face - one he leans into and kisses. “T-Toru—!”
Just about all you can manage out.
And your orgasm might not have been a surprise to him, but Gojo’s own absolutely was.
It happens in a split second - just after that nickname spills from the honeyed tip of your tongue. 
Gojo’s snowy lashes flutter upwards, sweat-slicked brows raising all the way to the edges of his silky fringe. Bubblegum lips parting into an oh! only falling further and further slack with every creamy ribbon shot upwards into you. 
It floods, it pours. And you can feel your flooded pussylips overspilling before he’s even halfway through his orgasm.
Oozing out glutinous wads of cum with every pump - Gojo had no rhythm now, he had no rhyme. Nothing but the carnal need to push every ounce of his fatly beading seed deeper n’ deeper into your pretty pussy, heated pink crownhead swirling out what feels like hearts at the very door to your womb.
You’re so full you could explode-
A hand rovers over that inflationary bulge - bigger now. “Oh, sweetheart…”
Was that really your loving boyfriend? He sounded so ruined right about now, hoarse. You couldn’t even blink your eyes up to make out the expression on his face because the lights had exploded. Possibly in every ward of Tokyo.
You feel it before you see it.
The familiar, shrill puff! of that pheromone perfume being sprayed on you- what? 
With a sharp gasp, you’re looking back n’ forth between the shiny sheen of liquid spritzed once more over your skin and Gojo’s ever-loving smile.
“Oh, whoops.” Soft snickers punctured with a loooong sniff of the air - of you. And Gojo’s eyes take on a predatory glint that makes your entire body wrack with shivers. “Better hope you’re on ngh- b-birth control, girl.”
“...”
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A/N. Fun fact, the entirety of Sri Lanka had a six hour power cut while I was writing this because some monkey jumped onto a power line </33
Plagiarism not authorized.
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markrosewater · 2 days ago
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I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.
The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.
Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.
I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.
You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.
Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.
You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.
And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.
And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.
Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.
Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.
That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.
Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.
But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.
If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.
When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.
Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?
How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?
Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.
There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.
I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?
Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.
Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.
And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.
To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?
Thanks for reading.
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docholligay · 2 days ago
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So for all of you who think nothing matters:
We have a local, I guess I'll call it an events complex. It's where concerts and the fair go. It's owned by the city.
When Trump started the whole ICE thing, our commissioner sent a letter to the local representatives, telling them they could use it as a detention center for illegal immigrants. Our event center. Where the 4H kids show their fuckin' lambs.
"The fuck you will" was the resounding reply.
So, when I talk about coalition-building, and working with people you do not agree with or maybe even like, this is what I'm talking about. There was an immediate and vocal show of disapproval, from all sides. We all contacted people we knew would dislike this, REGARDLESS OF HOW THEY FELT ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. The meeting was packed with people yelling at the commissioners. Of all political stripes. Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Prairie Populist, Independent.
Some were, of course, the tumblr-style arguments about inherent humanity, but--I think more compellingly if you're actually trying to put the pressure on--there were questions of, 'How are we gonna get paid?" "Are you aware of how, as the only event center for more than two hours, much fuckin money this brings into the community? ANd that immigrants of all types make up less than 2% of the population of the entire state?(my argument), "Do we trust the government to pay us?", "Isn't there a fuckin' empty prison in [town about an hour from here]? Are you just being a kiss-ass?' (offered up by a man I know to be very conservative indeed. BUT HE DID NOT WANT OUR SPACE USED FOR THIS) and, an argument that was so good I was infuriated I didn't come up with it, "DO you think the bank is gonna want to be known as the sponsor of "National bank Detention Center?" (Which caught on and the bank had to offer up a letter saying how they hoped the commissioners would use the event center as intended.)
They folded. A letter came out a few days ago from the manager of the event center, saying it was decided that the events center would rescind the offer, as "more acceptable alternatives could be found." They blinked.
That's the thing. All that happened is that a bunch of people got mad an went to ONE TWO HOUR MEETING. It changed everything.
SHOW. UP.
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andypantsx3 · 3 days ago
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FILLING IN | BAKUGOU x READER ˖˚˳⊹
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summary: A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki.  contents: The classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar Bakugou, soft dom Bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush, slight bondage, descriptions of afab genitalia, nipple sucking, cunnilingus, piv sex, pet names used: angel and sweetheart, porn with surprise feelings, 18+, 8.2k words notes: This is my Bakugou x Reader commitment for @ficsforgaza, and I am sorry it is late enough to also count for Valentine's Day (but also Happy Valentine's Day!!) Additionally, a special thank you to my angel princess @ofmermaidstories for handing me the nerd + pornstar combo when I was worried about Bakugou's characterization. I think this is the only way I could have ever written a pornstar Bakugou that felt right to me. Love you, Mermie.
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The studio was churning in chaos by the time you arrived.
The first sign that things weren’t right was Komori, one of your fellow production assistants, propped against the wall outside. Her cellphone was pressed against her ear, and she looked nervous, her foot tapping a thousand miles a minute. She had a thumbnail pressed to her mouth and was chewing steadily through the nail like a rabbit through a lettuce leaf.
You didn’t want to disturb her, so you buzzed inside the studio, only to find the hallways filled with an equally nervous energy. Yaoyorozu, one of the production managers, hovered in the doorway of a dressing room. She looked to be arguing with someone, her normally sweet expression pinched in profile. A small circle of people took up the hallway behind her, shifting apprehensively.
A shrill voice filtered out of the dressing room as you tried to wedge yourself by. “I said I’m not doing it. We’re getting married and we agreed I wouldn’t do this anymore.”
“Bibimi—” Yaoyorozu started.
“Effective immediately. Find someone else,” Bibimi’s voice replied.
You stopped in your tracks, blinking as you turned back to the doorway, peering over Sato’s shoulder.
Bibimi Kenranzaki was one of the studio’s top actresses, the very performer scheduled to shoot the production you were working on this afternoon. The shoot was a Valentine’s Day special, and had already been delayed at Bibimi’s request several times. If you’d understood Yaoyorozu’s previous concerns correctly, today was the last possible day to shoot it with enough time for it to make it through editing to post on Valentine’s.
This was not good.
“Bibimi, of course we would never force you to do something you did not consent to,” Yaoyorozu said patiently. “But you can see how having delayed this shoot many times already puts us in danger of not delivering on our commitments.”
You heard a dismissive snort issue from the room, and peered over one of Yaoyorozu’s slender shoulders. Bibimi lounged across one of the waiting room couches, arms crossed over her chest. An enormous diamond ring you’d never seen before glinted from one of her fingers, clearly the source of today’s change of heart.
Oh, production was not going to be happy.
You winced as you ducked out from behind Yaoyorozu, heading back down the hall to stuff your things into one of the vacant lockers. It was a struggle to fit everything in as today you’d come directly from a lecture—two textbooks the size and weight of cinderblocks choking up all the space in your bag. You would have thought that, considering that a wide swath of the production staff were college students—including several of the performers themselves—the studio would have had a better set up. But it was often a fight to the death to even find an open locker amongst the many other bookbags, and an equally Sisyphean struggle to get the door shut on the tiny cubbies.
Once you finally managed to finagle the door shut on your backpack, you made a beeline for the supply room. Typically, your first task of any shoot was acquisition of about a million pounds of baby wipes and lube, though you wondered if they would be needed today, given the scene with Bibimi you’d just witnessed.
You checked the film schedule posted in the staff entry to find the allotted set room. Then you made your way down the twisting maze halls carpeted with ancient olefin to the set for You Cumplete Me, the obnoxious working title Kaminari had come up with for this particular Valentine’s Day project.
The room was set up like some generic apartment, a large bed with a wire-framed headboard dominating the majority of the space. A cherry wood nightstand cluttered with fake knick knacks stood diligently at the bedside, and two fake windows with their curtains drawn shut overlooked the whole affair, red dressings fluttering slightly in the breeze from a fan.
Most of the production staff was already inside the room, the cameramen and director huddled together in the corner, whispering nervously. You spotted Mina, the wardrobe coordinator and makeup artist, fussing with her phone in the other corner, her various products and brushes spread out across a plastic folding table, looking put out.
“You know if we’re going to be able to sub anyone in for Bibimi?” you asked as you approached her, flopping down in one of the chairs set up at her makeshift dressing table. You arrayed your armful of lube and plastic packs of wipes at the corner so as not to disturb her arrangement.
Mina’s eyes flicked up to yours and she grinned, the upturn of her mouth accented with perfectly-applied hot pink lipstick.
“Komori’s called like ten other actresses so far and can’t get anyone,” Mina answered. “And Shiozaki and Kendo are in-studio but both just got off another shoot so we contractually can’t use them. I think Yaomomo is ready to start shaking people down.”
You winced. Yaoyorozu never lost her cool, but the pressure must be mounting. You knew marketing materials had already been put out on the studio’s website, specifically promising the return of the studio’s highest-grossing star—Bakugou Katsuki—opposite Bibimi.
While Bibimi might be the highest paid actress, Bakugou was the real draw of UA Productions. UA churned out projects that were largely targeted towards less traditional markets—largely women—porn that was often of higher production value, higher quality scripting, and careful coordination showcasing enthusiasm and consent. It also subsequently employed more than its fair share of beautiful men.
And Bakugou Katsuki crowned that pile of performers. Though foul-mouthed and often irascible, he was undeniably breathtaking to behold, both on screen and in person. He was the typical blend of tall, strong, and well-muscled that most UA actors were. But he moved with a singular precision and intention that drove fans wild, and came equipped with bed-rumpled blond hair, mile-long lashes, a surly, pouty mouth, and a facial symmetry that Euclid himself would have wept over.
He was also nearing the end of his doctoral and would not be filming for much longer, you were given to understand. So the studio stood to lose a significant amount of audience trust and money, should this production fall through.
As if on cue, Bakugou Katsuki himself stomped through the doorway. The expression on his face told you he was already well-aware of what was happening with Bibimi, and he was getting annoyed with the hold up. He set a direct line for you and Mina, mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.
Your ears promptly went hot, the way they always did when Bakugou was in your line of vision.
You’d unfortunately had something of a crush on him from the minute you’d become a production assistant at UA, your third year of college. Funds were tight and your masters program loomed large in front of you, its meager stipend like a slap in the face. You’d needed something else flexible, and you’d found UA through the friend of a friend—its proximity to the university, and ever changing schedule of ongoing productions offering the perfect amount of flexibility for your situation.
Bakugou had been there that first day as Yaoyorozu gave you the tour, too. He’d been tucked up on the couch of the waiting room as you passed through, blonde hair rumpled, someone’s lip gloss still smeared at the corner of his jaw. He looked like a soft, relaxed mess—clothes askew like he’d pulled them back on after a shoot and immediately migrated to the couch—though his scarlet eyes tracked intently across the page of an enormous engineering text spread across his thighs. His long fingers twirled a pen absently, tapping against a notebook peeking out from just under the textbook, headphones jammed over his ears.
He did not look up as you made your way inside, but your stomach had flared to life with a sudden flutter of butterflies. You were startled by the pretty set of his mouth, the long lashes that swept over his cheeks as he read, the flex of those long, beautiful fingers on his pen. You had never seen a person so perfect in real life, and the effect was dumbing.
“That’s Bakugou, one of our performers,” Yaoyorozu had told you, leading you through the room. She did not stop to introduce you. “He’s working on a PhD in chemical engineering, and performs once every couple of months for us. He’s—erm—not quite friendly, so we’ll skip the introduction today.”
You’d followed her, nodding obediently, leaving Bakugou behind. You’d dutifully concluded your tour and signed all the paperwork, and met several other members of the staff. It was only when you’d been released from your onboarding obligations that you saw Bakugou again, as you ran out into the parking lot to start your car.
It was raining out, a torrential downpour much worse than when you’d arrived that came down in thick, pelting sheets. Visibility was bad enough that you almost missed the tuft of blonde hair across the parking lot, ducking under the awning of the nearby bus stop.
You knew the route headed back towards your university, and subsequently your apartment, and it dawned on you that Bakugou’s would most likely be attaining his cited PhD at your same college. You felt your mouth twist, impressed. PhD tracks were notoriously difficult to attain at Musutafu University—no wonder Bakugou needed a job that was, for lack of better phrasing, quick and dirty. He probably was drowning in post-grad labs and dissertation materials.
The memory of those long fingers tapping at the edge of his text suddenly flickered again in your brain, and something possessed you as you started up your engine. Before you knew what you were doing, you had pulled your car around into the bus stop bay, leaning out to call out to him.
“Hey—Bakugou, right?” you said, watching as scarlet eyes found yours, narrowing suspiciously. His pretty mouth lifted in an immediate, reflexive snarl, and those broad shoulders squared off, like he was getting ready for trouble.
You cut in, quickly explaining yourself when you realized he had no context for the rando hanging out of their car window at him. “I’m Yaoyorozu’s new production staff. Just joined today. Are you headed towards Musutafu U and do you want a ride?”
A blonde eyebrow lifted. “You’re with UA?” he asked. His voice was a kind of low growl, not unlike the thunder suddenly echoing overhead, and the sound shot through you like a bolt of lightning.
“I—yeah. Just signed the paperwork this afternoon.”
Several spatters of rain dampened your cheeks where you had your head poked out of the window, and Bakugou’s eyes tracked them closely as he leaned in. “Then let’s get one thing straight right off the bat—I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”
You recoiled, horrified at the conclusion he’d immediately brought himself to. “No! That’s not what I—I didn’t mean like—! I just thought because it’s raining out, you might want—”
“I want you to fuck right off, is what I want,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. He made a show of leaning back against the glass wall of the bus stop, its interior papered over with moldering ads. It was a clear dismissal.
You blinked at him stupidly for a moment, mind reeling that your gesture had been received so poorly. But then you realized he hadn’t seen you, in your trek through the staff room during your afternoon tour. You’d only just seen him, and you hadn’t spoken to him besides. Despite your immediate interest in and respect for him, he knew nothing about you.
And he was a pornstar, come to think of it. He probably had had a fair number of creeps proposition him out of the blue. Enough that he was suspicious now, as you might have been, were you in his position.
Your cheeks heated, suddenly ashamed. You nodded, gritting your teeth as you ducked back inside your car.
“Right, fucking off, as requested,” you said, turning your blinker on to move back out into the road. “Sorry to scare you. See you, um—see you at work sometime.”
“Oi—I ain’t fuckin’ scared,” you heard him growl, but then you were turning back out into the street. You rolled your window back up as you sped up, resisting the urge to look back at Bakugou in the rearview.
What a humiliating first impression that had been.
You'd fretted about it for another week before your first official day at UA, and for several weeks more when you didn’t immediately run into Bakugou. When you’d finally met him properly, however, Bakugou acted like he’d never even seen you before in his life, and you somewhat gratefully followed his lead. He treated you like anyone else, with the same kind of universal severity he turned on the other production staff. You discovered very quickly that he was impatient, brusque, no-nonsense. He stalked onto every set with all the latent energy of a nuclear missile strike, and never softened until after the shoot was over.
His general attitude, and your humiliating first encounter should have been enough to turn you off of him. But the occasional glimpse of him after a shoot—rumpled, relaxed, open in a way he normally wasn’t, in the way that you'd first seen him—was unfortunately enough to keep those initial butterflies aflutter.
The fact that he was smart—and annoyingly adept in the bedroom, considering the number of reshoots his costars often needed after they accidently came too early—did not help matters.
“Where the fuck is Yaoyorozu?” he demanded of you and Mina, as he approached you in the set room now.
You met his scarlet gaze, holding very still under his regard.
“She was negotiating with Bibimi just now when I came in,” you told him, cheeks heating as his eyes flicked over you. He had a very direct way of evaluating people, and rarely missed a detail. You hoped your makeup wasn’t smudged from where you’d had your head propped up in your hand, valiantly resisting falling asleep in your earlier lecture.
“Bibimi’s a waste of fuckin’ time,” Bakugou growled.
You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t very well act opposite his own hand, so someone was going to have to fill in.
“Well Mina says we’re not having luck finding anyone else either so Bibimi is your best bet,” you told him.
Bakugou looked down his perfect nose at you. “Anyone in this damn studio could do better than she does.”
You felt your eyebrows raise. Bibimi was popular with a variety of audiences for her exaggeratedly dollish features—you doubted just anyone could fill in for her and look as good. You said as much to Bakugou, and he scoffed.
“‘S not about looking good, it’s about showing that you’re feeling good,” he said plainly, igniting a wave of fire across your cheeks. The flames worsened when he crossed his arms over his chest and you had occasion to notice he was in nothing but a workout tank, his bare biceps flexing enticingly in the studio lighting.
You were thankfully spared from having to form a coherent response by Yaoyorozu stepping into the room. She was tailed by Komori, and wore a troubled expression. She waved an elegant hand that encompassed both your camp in the corner and the directors on the other side of the room.
“Bibimi is unfortunately out. And we cannot use Shiozaki or Kendo. I am afraid we may have to call off the shoot this afternoon,” she said.
“So get someone else in,” Bakugou said, with his usual brisk directness. He turned to face her. You caught the whiff of something light and clean on him as he did so, laundry detergent and recently-applied shampoo.
Yaoyorozu fixed him with an expectant look. “We’ve unfortunately worked our way through the roster of available performers. Unless you know someone else?”
Bakugou stared back at her evenly, arching a blonde brow. “There’re a bunch of extras already here, aren’t there?”
A little shock went through you. Extras. As in the…people in the room right now? Did he really mean the production staff?
Yaoyorozu blinked, apparently taken aback. Then her gaze slid thoughtfully between Komori, Mina, and you. Another little thrill raced through you, like you’d suddenly missed a step. Surely they both could not actually be considering that.
“I’m a hoe but I’m a loyal hoe,” Mina said from next to you, immediately putting up a rosy palm. “Eiji is my one and only, sorry babes.”
Yaoyorozu nodded. “Of course, I would not expect you to violate any commitments you already had to a significant other.”
“I am also seeing someone,” Komori volunteered, a shy little blush sweeping across her cheeks. You smiled a bit at her obvious regard for whoever it was—until you sensed a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly turning to you.
Your stomach dropped—less of a missed step then and more of a sudden push off a cliff.
Worst of all was the pair of scarlet eyes suddenly burning with undue regard in your direction. You stared straight at Yaoyorozu, unable to meet Bakugou’s gaze. You still felt like you might burn up under his scrutiny, like an ant under a magnifying glass.
“I—uh—” you said dumbly, floundering for the right set of words to explain yourself. “Uhh.”
“You seeing anybody?” Bakugou prodded, prompting a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.
“Well—no—”
“You clean?” he asked.
Your face burned hotter. “Yes, if you must know—-but uh—”
“Then what?” he prompted.
“Is it that easy for you? To just switch partners like that?” you asked. You weren’t exactly a blushing virgin but you still had only slept with partners you had cared for. Bakugou had worked with you for years and never signaled anything beyond dismissal and semi-professionalism—so it wasn’t like he had that same level of interest in you, despite your enormous crush on him. How could he just switch, just like that?
Bakugou uncrossed his arms to settle his hands on slim hips instead, and he gave you another evaluating once over. “Something the matter with you?” he asked. You noticed he did not ask if you thought something was the matter with him. You wondered if your crush on him was that apparent.
“No,” you said defensively. “Just—I don’t know that I’d be any good on camera.”
“You’ve been in videos before,” Mina pointed out, tugging playfully on your belt loop. “You were in Bibimi’s Christmas special a couple years ago.”
“That was different,” you said, staring at her. “I was her evil coworker who sent her running into Tetsutetsu’s muscular arms. I didn’t have to get naked.”
“We can give you time to get prepared,” Yaoyorozu promised kindly. “If you wanted to um, clean up or trim—”
“It’s not that!” you said quickly, waving your arms. Your ears burned. “I just mean I would be shy.”
Bakugou watched you silently for another long moment, his full mouth pursed in thought. His gaze dragged down your body and then back up to your face, and you felt it like a physical touch.
“Then if you forgot you were on camera?” he asked, a rasp in his tone.
You blinked at him dumbly. “If I—forgot?”
“If I made you forget,” he said, flashing a sharp smirk. The arrogance looked so good on him, zinging through your veins like an electric current. Your cheeks and ears flared even hotter, until you thought you might actually be emitting smoke from them.
You tried to form words but seemed to have trouble shaping the proper ones with your tongue, making a series of choking noises before you managed. “There is no way you could—you’re not that good.”
Something hot flared to life behind Bakugou’s eyes, and his smirk curled even sharper. “We’ll see about that.”
“What if Bakugou helps you get over your nerves, and we just try it and see how you do.” Yaoyorozu prompted gently. “Is that something you would be willing to do? Of course we won’t pressure you.”
Your gaze jerked back to her as you startled. For just a second you’d sort of forgotten there was anyone in the room but Bakugou.
“I sort of doubt—but if you really need—I mean I could—try…” you fumbled out.
Yaoyorozu nodded gratefully, looking pleased again. “Alright, then let’s at least try it. Mina please find proper costuming and help get Y/N ready. I will draw up a short contract with the same terms we promise all our on camera talent for you to look over when you’re done.”
You nodded, a little dazed. Had you really just agreed to—?
But then Mina was laughing, grabbing you by the elbow and drawing you out of the room. She marched you towards the back of the studio building where she’d amassed a respectable wardrobe, racks upon racks of clothes. “Alright, this is going to be so fun! I love dressing new talent! It’s always fun to work out what’s going to work with your coloring and style on screen.”
The mention of you doing anything on screen had all the blood draining from your veins, but Mina didn’t seem to mind. She kept up a stream of happy, easy chatter as she pecked around in the racks like a chicken hunting a grasshopper. Eventually she emerged with a robe in a deep pink, slippery and silky and glistening faintly under the overheads.
“Okay so you’re supposed to be a loving couple celebrating your anniversary and looking for ways to spice things up,” she said. “So you’ll be waiting for him to come home, looking delicious in this little slip of a thing. He can unwrap you like a V-Day present!”
Her callback to the plot of the shoot suddenly made you realize there were way more things involved in the project than just being pawed at on screen—and you did not know any of Bibimi’s lines. How the hell were you supposed to deliver any kind of performance?
“Don’t worry about it, I assure you the gears are already churning in Momo’s big brain,” Mina said when you asked as much. She peeled you out of your sweater and jeans, and ushered you into the robe. Cheeks burning, you let her look you over to make sure you were properly groomed for the camera.
Then before you could get cold feet, she bundled you up and shepherded you back into the set room and set to work on you with her various pots of paint and ointments. She worked a couple things into your hair, applied something glossy and sticky to your mouth, and adjusted the fit of your robe to her liking until she pronounced you ready.
Yaoyorozu was already leaning over you by the time Mina released you, laying out a packet of sheets in front of you. She detailed the terms to you in the professional, clipped tone you’d heard her conduct business in before, and soon enough you were penning in your own name in a shaky hand. The strokes looked almost foreign on the page, and you felt a little more than lightheaded thinking about what you’d just signed yourself into.
“So—what am I supposed to do about Bibimi’s lines?” you asked, your voice coming out kind of dry and crackly.
“We’re going to improvise,” Yaoyorozu said. “Bakugou will guide you. Try to respond as best you can to what he says, along the framework of being a couple celebrating their anniversary. It’s most important to capture your intimacy, however, so we can always come back and reshoot any dialog as needed after. You can call him Katsuki, there are no aliases for this shoot.”
You nodded, feeling even more nervous now that all the prerequisites had been completed.
That left Komori waiting for you. She was apparently assuming the duties you’d abandoned by becoming the star of this absurd alternate dimension. She led you over to what had been meant to be Bibimi’s starting mark on the bed and helped you spread your pink robe out enticingly. You almost laughed as you helped her, feeling foolish and distinctly unsexy for the deliberateness of it all.
There was nothing less romantic than half a dozen other people in the room with you, cameras and hot lights trained on you like you were an escaped convict under a helicopter floodlight. You got the impression that it was going to be a monumental task to work up the nerve to even loosen the tie on your robe, nevermind remove it.
Except then Bakugou walked in.
He’d changed, sometime in the half hour or so Mina had had you in her clutches. He prowled into the room in a dark charcoal suit, the consummate businessman home from his generic businessman job.
He looked unfairly good in it too—the close cut of it highlighted how his broad shoulders slashed inwards into a trim waist, and his pants showcased the flex of a strong, hard thigh. He’d acquired a chunky wristwatch in a dark metal, and it glinted dully under the overhead lights.
He looked sleek and dangerous, even though you’d just seen him stomping around in sweatpants not thirty minutes prior. You felt your breath escape you in a whoosh, your heartbeat kicking up as he prowled closer.
“I’m home, angel,” he said, a smoky rasp curling on the end of his voice. Despite the pet name, he sounded enough like his usual self that you almost answered him in turn.
You vaguely remembered you were obliged to playact with him, and you summoned up your nerve. “Hi, Katsuki,” you said. You hoped your voice did not sound too shaky. “Happy Anniversary.”
Bakugou’s scarlet eyes dipped down to your robe, fastening to the spot where it gaped open suggestively over one thigh. Your skin buzzed like a hive of bees was trapped beneath it.
“This my present?” he asked, stalking closer. He snagged the tie of your robe in his long fingers, toying with it speculatively.
“It should be easy to open,” you joked, then almost cringed.
Sexy. You were supposed to be sexy, not goofy as hell. And what happened when he really did try to open it?
A small amount of panic crept up your spine again, seeping into your veins. You did not feel ready to be naked before all of the eyes in this room, nevermind the roving gaze of the internet. What had you been thinking, signing up for this?
Your hand came up defensively to tug the robe tie back out of Bakugou’s hand, only for it to be captured too. Bakugou tugged you up and to him, and your face broke out in another sweeping wave of flame as you felt the hard planes of him against you. He was so warm, and smelled so good up close and you could not even begin to know what to do or where to put your hands—
Before you could ask him what the heck he was doing, however, he brought your captured hand to his mouth. You almost leapt out of your skin when you felt the gentle press of his lips on the inside of your wrist, the careful flicker of a tongue. Those scarlet eyes slid over you knowingly, near enough that you could see tiny flecks of deep purple in them.
His other hand came up to take your chin, his thumb stroking over the side of your jaw. The feeling made you shiver slightly, and it must have been clearly visible because the corner of Bakugou's mouth lifted into a smirk against your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every inch of your skin thrilling with the feeling of your longtime crush doing something this to you.
“Think I’m gonna enjoying opening you alright,” Bakugou intoned.
You struggled to remember what he was talking about, giving up almost immediately as his mouth trailed along the inside of your arm. It traced up and up and up, until he was hovering dangerously close to your face. His fingers tightened on your chin, tilting your face up to his.
And then he bent his head, and crushed his mouth to yours.
Immediately, everything else disappeared.
Kissing Bakugou was three thousand zillion times hotter than you could have ever even imagined. You’d sort of imagined that with an attitude like his, he would be all power and impatience. And the power was there, but leashed, somehow. His mouth was hot and shockingly sweet on yours, and his fingers cupped your face to his, holding you there like he planned to kiss you for hours yet.
Your head was spinning by the time he let your mouth free, and the dip of his blonde lashes as he looked you over was extraordinarily self-satisfied.
His hand on your chin went to your robe instead, pulling the collar wide so that he could lower his mouth inside instead, kissing over your throat. You seized fistfuls of his suit, clinging to him, as he mapped a hot path across your shoulder and collarbone, one of his hands coming up to up your chest.
You heard yourself let out a soft hiss as his thumb pressed over your nipple through the silky fabric. Bakugou sucked a careful bruise into the side of your neck as he did it again, letting out a barely audible snort when you jerked in his hold, unconsciously arching into his hand.
“So sensitive for me, angel,” he drawled as his other hand came up to carefully pinch your other nipple.
You heard yourself make a small, choked off noise like a whine, and you could feel Bakugou’s lips pull into an answering smirk against your throat. You didn’t think you had been quite this responsive to a partner before—but something about the careful, purposeful way he was touching you had your blood running quicker in your veins.
Bakugou’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to make you groan. He teased you again and again as his mouth traced higher on your neck.
Within minutes you were panting, a slow, syrupy pleasure dripping down into your core.
Bakugou tugged your robe wider, then bent his head. You felt the tickle of his hair against your collarbone, softer than you would have thought, as his mouth closed over the point of one nipple. The draw of his mouth had you arching up into him immediately, pleasure zinging through your veins.
“Oh my god,” you said, seizing a fistful of that blonde hair.
Bakugou’s tongue teased at the nipple, and you writhed in his hold. Then he did the same to your other one, and you thought you might die. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you already wanted to crawl out of your skin with impatience.
“Katsuki—please,” you heard yourself say, almost distantly. “Katsuki—oh!”
“Please what, angel?” he said into the skin of your chest, before laying his mouth back over your nipple and giving a sweet suck.
“Oh my god—please!” you said, stupidly. Not an answer to his question but you’d forgotten how to string words together, your brain-to-mouth connection running on autopilot.
“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart,” Bakugou said, and you heard the relish in it. Your face burned, and you yanked his hair a little more firmly. He just groaned, and then sucked you a little harder.
“Touch me! Please—Katsuki,” you panted out, hips flexing unconsciously with the pull of your nipple.
“Thought this was my gift, angel. I can’t enjoy it how I want?” he asked.
You considered his words muzzily, having no idea what he was talking about. Gift? What gift was he talking about?
Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, and something in your expression must have told him you had no idea what he was on about. His mouth pulled up into a self-satisfied grin, and he leaned up to kiss you again.
You flattened yourself out against his chest, all but velcroing yourself to him. You wanted to feel every inch of that hard body against you, wanted to climb as far into him as you could. Something gratifyingly hard pressed against your stomach as you kissed him, and he grunted, locking you to him with a muscled arm across your back.
“Want me to touch you, angel?” he asked.
You nodded. A smile played across his lips.
“Get on the bed for me then, sweetheart.”
It took a minute for you to process but then you were scrambling to obey, scrabbling your way onto the bed, turning and watching as Bakugou stepped nearer.
He shed his jacket as he approached, yanking off his tie too and flinging it somewhere behind him. Then he crawled over you, his fingers seizing the ties of your robe as he did. He pulled it open gently, then yanked a little harder until the silk tie slid free.
His eyes picked over it speculatively, then flashed back up to you. A look of intent interest settled over his features.
“You ever been tied up before, angel?” he asked.
You shook your head, even as it swam with the implication. Your skin prickled, somehow growing even hotter. He didn’t mean to…?
“You gonna let me?” he asked.
You rather thought you would let him do anything he wanted with you. The question was barely out of his mouth before you were nodding hurriedly. A shocked laugh punched out of him, and he gathered up your wrists, scooting you backwards until they pressed against the headboard.
He looped the silk around your wrists, gathering it into a series of complicated knots. He moved with a purpose and precision, his movements sure and practiced. You tested the give of the ties when he sat back on his haunches, finding that they held firm, even when you put a little more muscle into it.
Bakugou’s gaze blazed over you, hot like coals. His eyes traced over your body, spread out under him now, your silk robe pooling at either side of you in a pink puddle.
He bent his head and kissed you again, until you were fuzzy with the feeling once more. Then he worked his way downwards, softly biting your shoulder, licking over one nipple, pressing deep kisses into your belly and then indent of your left hip.
A shock of pleasure raced through you when you realized where he was going with this, and you let out an involuntarily little gasp as he hooked your thighs over his broad shoulders.
“Katsuki,” you began, though you had no idea what you meant to follow it up with. Bakugou didn’t wait for you to finish, ducking his head and licking a hot stripe up the cleft of you.
Immediately you arched, thighs flexing under his hands. Your face heated when he laughed again, but any embarrassment was instantly forgotten when he licked over you again, slower and more deliberate this time.
“Oh my god,” you said again, biting off into a groan when his tongue dipped deeper between your folds, flicking up over your clit.
“Yeah, angel?” Bakugou asked, his voice a heady rasp. “You like that?” He layered another open mouthed kiss over you, slow and thorough, until you were arching up into his mouth again.
It would have been evident to anyone on earth how much you liked it from the noises you made, the way you kicked and squirmed with the movement of his mouth. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth, then laved over it firmly as he pressed his fingers to you, the pads of his index and middle slowly sinking into you.
Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he gave another slow suck, the feeling almost too much. His fingers pressed deeper into you, easily slipping in with how comically wet you were for him. The gentle suction of his mouth made everything a million times better, everything a million times worse, as he carefully curled his fingers within you. He seemed to immediately find a spot within you that felt like he was touching your clit from the other side too, and the feeling was immediately far too much.
“Holy shit,” you heard yourself say, cutting off into an honest to god whine when his tongue swirled around your clit, just as he teased a finger along you from the inside too. “Katsuki—oh! Katsuki please! Please oh my god oh my god.”
Bakugou’s ministrations grew a fraction firmer, and you heard him groan too as he kissed you messily.
“So fucking hot for me, sweetheart. So sweet,” he said, then sucked again, a tiny bit harder this time. His fingers stroked you from the inside, a firm, deliberate rhythm that had you turning your face and muffling a keen into the meat of your arm.
Your hips flexed against his face, wild and uncontrolled, wanting less, more, not enough, too much, oh my god—
“Katsuki!” you cried, as you suddenly hit the crest of your pleasure. Your wrists pulled against their bonds, and the feeling of helpless restraint suddenly made everything feel a thousand times more intense. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, so that even the air of the room seemed too harsh on your skin. You screamed as you rode out your pleasure against Bakugou’s face.
He worked you through it diligently, licking and sucking until you collapsed back to the mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.
“Good, angel?” Bakugou asked.
You nodded breathlessly, turning your face to his when he crawled up your body to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on him was both embarrassing and thrilling, but Bakugou didn’t give you much leeway to consider it, kissing you into a stupid, pliant little puddle against the mattress.
You could feel him hard and hot against your hip as he did so, but he didn’t make any move to get inside you yet. Instead, his hands moved over you, slowly teasing you from satiation back into want. His fingers played with your nipples again, pinching them softly and rolling them. It felt like he'd rigged up some kind of wire, leading from your nipples right to your core, that lit the pilot flame of your interest again.
A couple minutes of diligent teasing, and easy, unhurried kisses had you wiggling under him again soon enough. It was only then, when you realized you were unconsciously rocking your hips against Bakugou’s, that he finally sat back to shuck off his shirt and pants.
He was so unfairly beautiful, bared in the bright light of the room. You’d known he was gorgeous, of course, but up close he was something else entirely. He was chiseled with thick muscle, his chest and arms hard and glowing faintly with perspiration. The light and the shadows of the room played over the divots of his muscles with a deliberate care, like he was a painting instead of a man, highlighting him in loving shades. A set of perfect abs trailed down into the hard jut of hip bones over his pelvis, and his cock was just as upsettingly gorgeous as the rest of him. It was thick and full and flush with his arousal, and he wasted no time crawling back between your thighs.
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked. His voice had gone even more gravelly than usual, and it plucked at your core like a string.
“Please, Katsuki,” you said, your voice embarrassingly breathy. You couldn’t help yourself though, couldn’t be ashamed with the easy way your thighs fell apart for him. Your ankles hooked across his back, trying to pull him closer still.
He groaned and surged up over you to grab a condom off the nightstand. He quickly rolled it onto himself in one practiced movement, before immediately pressing himself into you.
He sank in mortifyingly easily, you already half out of your mind with want. He didn’t seem to mind, though—you heard the soft, sibilant hiss of his own pleasure as he filled you, and your robe tugged the skin of your shoulder as he fisted a hand in it, just beside your head.
“Been dying to fuck you, angel,” he said. “Thinking about how hot and tight and sweet you would be for me. Been thinking about it nonstop.”
You made a vague noise of agreement, moving your hips with his as he drew back and pressed inside of you again. The slide of him inside you was mind-numbingly good, the pressure against your stomach as he pressed back in almost sparking stars in your vision. The flex of his abs between your thighs as he found his pace was almost immediately too much for you, and you had to turn your face away. You tilted your face up to his, watching him as he watched you.
Bakugou seemed to read your expression easily, finding the angle and pace you liked incredibly quickly. He slid an arm under the small of your back to angle your hips up into him, yanking you up like you were nothing, and the show of easy strength had your toes flexing and curling against his back.
He kissed you again, catching the sounds of your pleasure in his mouth as he rocked into you. You moved against him, hips bucking, delirious with the feeling of him. Eventually he freed his arm from under you, pressing his thumb to your slit again with deadly precision.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his mouth, legs tightening on him as he played with your clit. The almost-too-gentle sensation of his thumb on your clit, coupled with the relentless drive of him inside you had your vision sparking and greying at the edges. His face swam in front of yours, and all of your limbs began to feel shivery, almost too weak to lift yourself into him the way you needed, to rock against him and find relief from the friction.
Bakugou continued to tease at you, carefully pinching and petting. His hips drove into you tirelessly, slapping the bottoms of your thighs, as you strained in your silk bonds, wanting to grab him, pull him even harder into you.
“Katsuki, please please please,” you heard yourself begging. You felt him smile against your mouth, tasted his reply more than heard it.
“You want me to let you cum, angel?” he asked, doing something with his fingers that made your breath catch in your lungs.
“Unhh, yes—please!” you cried, desperation coming over you in a white haze.
You had never—never—been so desperate for anything in your entire life. You didn’t know how Bakugou was doing it, why his touch felt like so much more than anything else you’d ever felt in your life. If he didn’t let you cum you were certain you were going to die, right here and right now.
“You gonna scream for me, sweetheart?” Bakugou asked, his voice raspier than you’d ever heard it. He grit the words out, like he too was on the edge of his own climax, barely staving it off.
“Anything, I will do anything,” you babbled senselessly. “Yes—going to scream for you—Katsuki!”
Bakugou’s gaze was hotter than you’d ever seen it, scarlet eyes clouded with pleasure, glowing like banked coals. “Then you can come for me, angel. Come on, sweetheart.”
“Oh!” you cried in answer, your feet planting themselves on the bed to jut your hips up hard. Bakugou’s thumb pressed hard against your clit, then, firm and merciless, and he fucked into you harder, his pace growing faster, furious.
Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, snapping your spine into alignment, locking all your limbs up as if in rigor mortis.
“Katsuki!” you wailed as you writhed against him, clenching and fluttering around him as you sobbed.
“Oh fuck,” you heard him say, and his hips stuttered. You realized he was coming too, fucking into you sloppily and disjointedly as he rode out his own pleasure. You arched and spasmed with him, clawing uselessly at the silk that bound you, twisting in blissful agony.
When you finally came back to yourself you found yourself slumped on the bed, Bakugou’s weight pinning you down into the mattress. His chest was slicked to yours with sweat, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of it against you as he caught his breath.
“That good, angel?” he asked, his voice heady with satisfaction.
You nodded, absently turning your face back up to his for a kiss. He granted it, kissing you almost possessively. He looked soft and rumpled, just the way you'd always liked him, and something in you purred with satisfaction at finally getting to have him like this for you.
Gradually, you became aware of other sounds in the room as you came down from your high. Quiet murmuring and the sounds of shuffling met your ears, the shutter click of a camera lens slicing through the atmosphere like a knife.
A sudden shock raced through you when you realized you and Bakugou were not alone—and you were on the set of a porn film, half a dozen eyes glued to you just over one of Bakugou’s thick shoulders.
A porn film. You had been shooting a porn film!
“And cut!” you heard the director’s voice ring out, like a bucket of water dumped over your head.
You tensed up beneath Bakugou, mind racing. Holy shit, he had actually managed to make you forget, exactly the way he'd promised.
You could tell Bakugou was thinking the same thing as he went to untie you, looking extremely satisfied with himself.
“Told you, angel,” he said, flashing something of a feral grin. You hated how good the self-conceit looked on him.
You went to draw your wrists back to yourself as he let them free. But Bakugou caught them instead, carefully massaging the skin there as if to make sure things were circulating properly. It was a startling note of unexpected care, as was the way he drew your robe closed around you again against the sudden chill of the room.
You found yourself saying wonderingly, “Wow. It was just that easy for you to switch partners like that.”
The thought somehow stung, even though you’d known going into this what you were getting yourself into. Somehow, the latent care and intention with which Bakugou had fucked you had addled your brain, made you think your connection had been something more. He had felt like he had feelings, beyond those mimed for the camera.
But here was evidence to the contrary, plain and simple. There literally was a camera.
Except then Bakugou looked down at you, a frown marring his pouty mouth. “Well yeah. ‘Course it was gonna be that easy when it’s you we’re talking about.”
You blinked at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Uh. When it’s—me?”
A crease came in between Bakugou’s blonde brows. “I said it, didn’t I? While we were fucking? Wanted to fuck you for a long time. Of course it was easy.”
Your stomach dropped, like a rug had just been yanked out from beneath you. “You—have? What? Since when?” you demanded.
Bakugou leveled you with an unimpressed stare. “Since the second time we met,” he said, and your mind flashed back to the way he’d seemed not to recognize you, that second time you'd spoken to him. “Once I realized you did work for UA and weren’t actually a little fucking creep trying to lure me into your car.”
You felt your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline. “Then—? For years? You cannot be serious. You never acted like we were anything other than coworkers!”
Bakugou scoffed. “We fucking were coworkers. And I told you, I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”
You blinked again, startled by the level of professionalism couched in the crassess of his statement. It made sense, you supposed, for a pornstar of Bakugou’s caliber to have put boundaries like that in place. Probably everyone in the world would just be dying for a shot at him.
“Wow,” you said, almost to yourself. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, wondered how it was going to be possible to behave professionally with Bakugou at all going forward. It was probably obvious to him how big your crush on him was, given that he’d known all along he could make you forget you were on camera. Given the way you reacted to him embarrassingly easily.
Except then Bakugou leaned forward, putting his face startlingly close to yours. “Emphasis on were, since this is my last shoot,” he said.
You stared at him, wondering if you were interpreting the implication correctly. There was no way he meant—?
“Uhhhh, meaning what, exactly?” you prompted, heart beating just a little bit quicker despite yourself.
Bakugou’s mouth turned up into a gorgeous smirk, and he ducked his head even closer, voice going softer.
“Meaning you’re going to get dressed and I’m going to take us to get something to eat,” he said, fingers playing at the edge of your robe. “And then you’re going to give me that ride home in your car after all. And we are going to do this all over again.”
Flames erupted across your face, sweeping across your cheeks. And you were up out of the bed before you even realized what you were doing, catching yourself on the bedside table as you stumbled.
Bakugou’s laugh chased out of the set room as you raced towards the wardrobe again. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, this time.
Not when your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You smothered a smile as you ran down the hallway.
Much like Bakugou had just done to you—it looked like your hopes and dreams were finally lining themselves up and filling themselves in.
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yeyinde · 2 days ago
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18+ | noncon. implied kidnapping.
In retrospect, camping all by yourself in a national park teaming with bears was probably high on the list of "dumbest things you've ever done in your life." But in your (shaky) defence—it really wasn't the wildlife you had to worry about anyway, but rather man.
In particular, a man.
That surly, gruff park ranger who happened to look just like a grizzly at first glance. The same one who found you all alone in your pitiful little tent, flashlight clutched in your trembling hands as you stared at him through the crack in the opening, visibly relieved that the thing you heard stomping around outside wasn't a bear, and quickly decided that pampered city princesses ought to be taught a lesson on what survival out here really means.
But he's merciful, he claims, and gives you a headstart to try and escape him (and the thick, unmistakable bulge in his pants, the dangerous look in his eye; naked hunger—that same, dead-eyed thing you'd seen in a big grizzly as he charged an elk earlier in the day) before he takes his prize.
And so, you run.
Except making good decisions doesn't really seem to be your strongest point.
In an instant, something is slamming against your back before you even make it halfway up the hill, pushing you to the ground on your belly. A warm, thick body following down after you. Crushing you into the soil.
You're too dazed by the impact to struggle when your hips are lifted. Pants, panties shoved down. Warm, rough hands cupping between your thighs, groaning at what he finds (all wet for me, mm, sweetheart?), and when you do, finally, begin to struggle you're met with an immovable wall. The strength of a man with more power in the single hand he keeps anchored against the back of your neck than you seem to have in your whole body—
"Don't know a thing, do you, sweetheart?" He growls, pushing your cheek deeper into the softened soil. "Not supposed to run from a bear, love."
Oh. Right.
Before you can squeak out an okay or sorry or please let me go, your knees are shoved wider apart by his thick, hairy thighs as he slots himself between your legs. Mounting his spoiled little prize on the cold, damp ground like a beast.
"Dangerous animals out here," is all he rasps before he's shoving inside of you, groaning about finally claiming the sweet little prey he's been diligently stalking through the park since he first laid eyes on you in the visitors centre. "You don't have a lick of sense in you, do you, sweetheart? No. Didn't even notice me followin' you. You need somethin'—someone—to protect you from dangerous predators, mm. And a firm hand to teach you a lesson."
He pries you open on his fat cock before you can spit out the dirt in your mouth to refute that claim, rutting into you like an animal on the cold ground in the middle of a national park as he makes good on his promise to show you what happens when you try and run from predators. A lesson that tastes like geosmin. Peat. And salty, tobacco-stained fingers. And aches like a broken bone after he set a maddening pace behind you, jerking your body against the upturned soil. Small rocks, and twigs digging into your skin.
When he's finally done, pulling out of you with a bullish grunt and landing a heavy, satisfied slap against the stinging cheek of your ass, he gathers your limp, sore body up into his arms, and brings you back to the lookout tower he calls home (temporarily).
A stop along the way, he assures you before setting out to teach his spoiled city princess more "survival skills"—like how to swallow his cock the way he likes, and how to take him as deeply, and as often, as he wants to give it to you.
(and often really is the foregone conclusion; it's mating season, after all.)
And as he pulls you down to lay against his furry, damp chest, cock softening inside of you (a thing you'll just have to get used to, sweetheart because he has no intentions of pulling out until he's ready to), and starts purring about mates and cubs and how lucky you were that he found you first before anything else had a chance to sniff you out, you think maybe you should have just gone to New York instead.
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lovelivision · 2 days ago
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‎‎‎‎THE PRACTICE OF KISSING .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎𐔌.pairing — geto suguru / reader
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 10k
✿ summary... after getting asked on a date you feel insecure over your inexperience regarding kissing someone. telling your bestfriend geto about your concerns results in an offer from him you didn't expect
warnings.ᐟ ── 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, making out, dry humping, dirty talk, hickeys, biting, (light) nipple play, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, orgasm denial (once), bsf!geto, virgin!reader, return of tease!geto, afab!reader, no use of pronouns !!
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The state of your mind is currently a mess, feeling overwhelmed and staring off into space as you think about how a guy asked you on a date earlier today. You'd turned him down but only because you have a particular hang up you can't get over, hence the feeling overwhelmed. You’ve never gone out on a date before and you feel like you’re missing out, so you definitely would’ve said yes if you weren’t so unsure of yourself.
Geto's hand waves in front of your face, breaking you from your trance, "Are you even listening to me?"
Has he been talking? Damn, you really spaced out, "Would you believe me if I said yes?"
"Not even a little bit," his gaze unamused.
You look away from him and to the poster behind his head on the wall, feeling sheepish, "Then no... sorry."
His frown deepens, legs uncrossing and scooting closer to the edge of his bed, "What are you thinking about so hard?"
"Not telling," you answer, spinning around in his office chair so that you’re facing away from him.
His desk is neat, everything organised and probably put exactly where it should be. Beside his monitor sits a little black cat figurine, one you had bought him not too long ago because it reminded you of him. Seeing it displayed makes you smile; he must like it.
Geto’s voice cuts through your small reverie, "So, you're not only going to ignore me, you're also not going to tell me what's wrong?"
Not even glancing back, you hum at him, "That would be a correct assessment... yes."
"Have I told you that you're annoying yet today?" He exasperates.
Shrugging, "I don't think so?"
"Oh? In that case, you're annoying."
"You're so mean to me; this is why I don't want to tell you what's wrong," you’re being dramatic but so is he.
A sigh leaves him, "If I promise to be nice will you tell me what's wrong?"
Your head flops onto the chairs headrest, jabbing at him jokingly, "I don't know if you're capable of kindness, Suguru."
"Now who's being mean? I'm nice all the time."
"Maybe to strangers..." You mumble out.
There’s no reply from him and for a second you think he’s going to leave the issue alone… that is until you’re suddenly spinning. His footsteps are always so light, you didn’t even hear him come up behind you. You’re facing him now, his hands holding himself up by the arm rests of his office chair. He’d spun you around just to lean down into your space and pointedly look at you.
Geto squints, “I’m nice to you all the time.”
“I don’t think this constitutes as ‘nice’.”
He groans your name, “Come on, you always talk to me when something’s wrong.”
“Maybe this is awkward for me to talk to you about,” you pout back at him.
His tongue clicks in realisation, “So, it’s about your love life?”
The immediate correct guess stumps you, causing you to sputter out, “What!? You have no way of–”
“–You never talk to me about your dates and you also got defensive so I’m guessing I’m right,” his gaze is even, unconcerned.
You huff at him and echo his earlier question, “Have I told you that you’re annoying yet today?”
“Yes, earlier when you almost fell over and I smiled,” he reminds.
Your response is a grimace and a matter-of-fact tone when saying, “I don’t tell you about my dates because I don’t go on them.”
“Ever?” Geto’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your confession.
Cementing back, “Ever.”
“People have definitely asked you out though.”
“Yeah but not that often because they always think we’re together,” you glare back at him.
A hand reaches for your face and squishes your cheeks between his fingers, “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not my fault.”
Your voice comes out all mumbled and difficult to understand, “It so is.” He rolls his eyes at you and you slap his hand away, “Stop squishing my face!”
Letting go, he sighs and takes a step back, sitting on the edge of the bed again, “Something about your love life is bothering you.”
Crossing your arms over your chest and looking to the side, you complain, “You’re so nosy.”
“Am not.”
What a liar, he’s always in your business. Though, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t think he’s usually in other people’s business this bad. He does like hearing about the gossip you collect though, always ready to hear it while acting as though he doesn’t care.
There’s no reply you can think to give, so you give him the silent treatment. Still looking away from him and silently pouting, you can feel his eyes watching you, waiting for you to break. It’s a frequent game you start that he finishes, silently ignoring him while he watches and waits until you can’t take it anymore and tell him what’s on your mind.
A few more moments pass by and you already feel ready to give in, you hate how much more effective his silence is. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, your gazes meet and you feel yourself folding all at once.
Large and exasperated groan leaving you as your shoulders slump back into the chair, “Fine!”
He perks up at your concession, a self-satisfied look on his face that irks you.
Looking at him properly to say, “I was asked on a date earlier today.”
The expression on his face changes to one of annoyance, like he’s not happy to hear that, “Who?”
“Some guy, you don’t know him,” you wave off, not really understanding why it matters to him.
Geto prods for more information, “…And what did you say?”
“…I said no.”
“Oh?” His reaction is indecipherable to you, “Why?”
This question is exactly why you didn’t want to talk about this, “I don’t know…” You’re lying, trying to avoid talking about this in more depth.
“Did you like him?”
“I didn’t not like him,” you shrug, “I would’ve liked to go out with him at least once but…”
“But…” He pushes.
“I don’t know, Suguru,” you scowl at your own reasoning, “I’ve never been on a proper date before, I don’t know what to expect or what’s expected of me. What if he wanted to kiss me or something?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, making you antsy while you wait for him to talk, “…Would you want to kiss him back?”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t think I’m understanding the issue,” his brows are pinched with his confusion.
You’re exhausted with him, like you aren’t the one being purposefully cryptic, “Am I gonna have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh!” You kick your legs in a mini tantrum, “I’ve never properly kissed someone… it’s always been like… a peck, I don’t know? But what if he expected more of me?”
You can see the way he’s actively fighting against the smile threatening to break out on his face, “Is that–” he bites down an amused sound, “Is that why you always say no to dates?”
“I don’t like you very much right now,” you were already feeling silly and embarrassed and his clear joy from this is not helping that.
He pouts at you mockingly, “Don’t be like that, I can help.”
“How could you possibly help me with this?”
A smile comfortable on his face when he states, “I could teach you.”
“You want to teach me how to kiss?” You scrutinise him, “Have you gone insane?”
“You’re the one all hung up on this and I’m offering to help you,” he puts his hands up, “But if you’d rather be a dateless loser for the rest of your life–”
“–Hey!” You point at him, “Uncalled for… and rude!”
A very signature and very annoying, polite smile sits on his pretty features. Unbothered by your outburst at his very clear bait. He simply raises his arm and grabs the hand you had pointed at him, tugging you from the chair and into him on the bed. You’re taken aback by his bold move, so close to him so quickly. Falling into his lap less than gracefully, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady as you sit sideways between his legs.
You stutter out at him, “Wha– what are you doing?”
Letting go of your hand; he reaches for your face. His thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone, “Do you want my help or not?”
“What you’re basically asking me is if I want to kiss you,” you correct… because that is what he’s asking right now.
Geto’s head drops back slightly as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at you dramatically, hand resting on your outer thigh now, “Don’t be so pedantic. You have a problem and I’m offering to help fix it.”
A sound of disapproval slips from you at his wording, “I know the theory behind kissing someone, Suguru. What you’re offering is making out with me.”
“So?”
Your expression is dumbfounded, you know he’s not this dense, “You want to stick your tongue in my mouth and then go back to the usual?”
He leans in again, dodging your question with his own, “Do you want me to stick my tongue in your mouth?”
“Geto–”
“–Ouch–”
“–Shut up.” You cut him off, “If! We did this and I do mean if. Would you be able to look at me the same?”
“The same as I always have? Sure,” there’s no hesitation from him.
He seems so sure, like he’s not worried about what this might mean for your friendship at all. The easy-going look on his face is both pissing you off and relaxing you, emotions he’s always been able to pull from you.
His hand is large on your thigh and the way it makes you feel is not how you should feel for him. Mumbling out a small, “You’re annoying.”
An amused breath leaves him, “You’ve already told me that today.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you look up at him through your lashes.
“That’s kind of the point of this.”
“Right…” You can’t help but find yourself feeling nervous, embarrassed that you won’t be good enough. For some reason… you really want him to think you’re a good kisser.
He must take your silence as rejection because his tone is gentle when he says, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I know, I just…” You frown while looking at him, trying to figure out exactly what steps to take next, “I don’t know what to do now…” Geto’s face relaxes and a smile replaces his concern causing you to chastise him, “Don’t smile, it’s not funny!”
“No,” he agrees, “But it is a little cute.”
“Whatever, can we just kiss now?”
“Desperate?” He asks teasingly.
You deny it, “I just want you to stop talking.”
“Sure.” It’s all dragged out and has a teasing lilt to it. Damn him and his need to have the last word. You don’t reply to that and instead try to shuffle off him, thinking sitting like this would be awkward. His hold becomes firmer on you, “What are you doing?”
You’re confused, “Isn’t this position weird?”
“Makes it easier,” is all he says in reply.
Being sat between his spread legs, your own draping over one of them while he holds you doesn’t seem ideal. To you, this couldn’t be a more awkward position to be in for this. Instead of telling him that though, you settle back, “Alright…”
When you look back up at him properly, he’s already looking at you. There’s a funny feeling that runs through you at the look in his eyes. The hand on your thigh moves to your face again, cradling you as he leans in. Murmuring a soft, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”
Just as he’s about to move all the way in, your hand covers his mouth, “Wait.” You stop him, your nerves getting the better of you, “What if… what if you don’t like kissing me?” He looks a little frustrated so you pull your hand away, giving him a chance to speak.
“Do you want me to like kissing you?”
You feel flustered by his question, “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?”
“Because your questions are interesting…” he pauses, “…And also, I like teasing you.”
“If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”
“Fine,” he indulges you, “I’m not gonna dislike kissing you so your question is dumb.”
“But you can’t know–”
He tuts you, interrupting what you were saying, “–You gotta answer my question now.”
You groan at him, “Well… yeah.”
“‘Yeah’ what?”
He’s such a smug bastard, “Yeah! Yeah I want you to like kissing me, Suguru.”
You’re huffy but he seems so pleased by your response. A serene and happy look on his face despite the tone you used. You find yourself waiting for him to say something more, something to tease you further but he doesn’t. He simply leans in again, taking you by surprise when his lips are softly pressing to yours. It’s short and sweet, more akin to a peck than anything else. Continuing to plant gentle kisses to your lips until you return them and then he lets them linger.
The feelings that run through you have you all tingly and hot, kissing your best friend for practice probably shouldn’t feel this good… right? You still don’t really know what you’re doing though, more just letting him kiss you than anything. When you part again, you murmur, “Suguru, I still don’t know what I’m meant to be doing.”
“Just follow my lead,” his eyes stay on your lips, now shiny from the shared kisses, “That’s all you gotta do.”
“But–”
His eyes roll when you go to argue more, “–Stop thinking so hard about it and let me kiss you.”
You can’t help but squirm slightly at that, “Okay.”
Satisfaction rolls off him in waves but thankfully for you he doesn’t comment any further, choosing to kiss you again. Instinctually, your hand reaches for his chest and grips onto his shirt, you need something to ground you.
Geto is taking this slow, he’s trying his best to be patient to savour this moment with you. He doesn’t want to push you too far too soon and have you stop whatever this is. If he were more sure of himself and where he stands with you, he’d have just asked you out like a sane person but he’s not sure and he didn’t want to pass on this opportunity.
He can feel this becoming something he covets, your soft lips on his, uncertain in your movements but so ready to be kissed by him. His heart pulls with a kind of possessiveness that’s not completely unfamiliar to him regarding you. The desire to not want anyone else to ever have this side of you overwhelming him.
It’s addictive, his kisses, his hold on you… him. You can feel yourself falling into him more, the longer you do this dance. You want more, you want him to kiss you more but you have no idea how to ask for that. Following his lead is good, it’s helpful but it’s starting to feel like he’s depriving you.
Pulling back, you force yourself to voice, “I want more…”
“Do you know what you’re asking for?” He sounds strained.
“You said you would teach me,” you remind. “So, teach me.”
His thumb presses into your jaw, “Open your mouth more then.”
Doing as he asks; he angles you just slightly before pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss fuller, his tongue licking into your mouth. It has a shiver running down your spine, the sensation new and mind numbing. It’s messier than before and so much more dizzying, you can’t even really keep up with his movements. Just letting him kiss you to his hearts content, feeling yourself getting drunk on his lips in the process.
You can’t even be sure if you’re doing this right but it doesn’t really feel like it matters, not when you’re this lost in it. Lips gliding against his, a small involuntary sound pulling from your chest at how he grips you tighter. Feeling like he gets impossibly closer, his kisses growing desperate the moment you whine into him.
Geto’s restraint is wearing thin, his desire for you growing tenfold at how you moan for him. He wants to touch you so much more, to put his hands on every part of you. The fear of ruining this moment keeps his hands planted firmly to your hip and cheek though and it’s killing him to not touch you more, more, more.
When you tentatively lick against his tongue he almost all but folds in that single moment, he feels so pathetically weak for you. So unsure of yourself and still trying to kiss him just as deeply as he is you. A guttural groan leaves him, a sound he’d be almost ashamed of if he didn’t notice the way you squirm at it.
You pull back from him and he can’t help but chase your lips, he doesn’t want to stop. An amused breath leaves you, “Hold on.”
He doesn’t understand what you need a moment for until you’re pulling his hands from you and moving to straddle him.  Your thighs resting beside him, he feels dizzy with need, the need to touch you, to undress you. To have you naked and straddling his lap just like this could make his whole year. His hands are on your hips, tugging you up his lap just slightly further, encouraging.
Going to sit on him, you notice his erection and gasp. Heat rising to your face, suddenly so conscious of how heated this exchange has gotten, “Maybe we should stop…”
It’s almost like it hurts him to hear those words, “Do you want to stop?”
You wish you weren’t so certain, so quick to immediately know that, “… No, I don’t.”
“That’s good…” he smiles, “Cause I’m not done teaching yet.”
And then you’re kissing again, wet and sloppy. He’s holding back less, depraved in how he sucks your tongue into his mouth, bolder now. Revelling in every twitch you make against him, every mumbled whine you let out.
Mindlessly, your hips lightly roll downwards and his resulting grip holds you so still against him. A debauched moan leaving him at your unexpected movements, parting his mouth from yours with it. Geto’s head tucks into your chest, controlling his breathing, like he might snap at any moment.
You feel a little frantic, like you might’ve hurt him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“–Don’t– fuck– don’t apologise,” he can feel how warm you are through your pants and it’s making him feel feral.
Your fingers run through his hair, to comfort him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” He huffs an unamused sound, “The only thing hurting me is how badly I wanna stuff you full.”
“Sugu–”
“–I know you can feel just how hard I am,” he pulls his head back to look at you, eyes blown wide and dark, “I’m practically aching for you.”
Your heart stutters in your chest, “Suguru… are you some kind of closeted perv?”
The question makes him laugh, “Wanna find out?”
“You were only supposed to teach me how to kiss…”
“Mhm, and you’re doing great,” his nose traces along your neck, inhaling you, “I still have so much more knowledge to give though.”
“Don’t be so– hah!” He licks at your skin before latching his mouth to the side of your throat, the pressure making you fidget in his lap. You feel so sensitive, so much more than what you thought you would.
When Geto pulls back from the mark he’s made, he blows softly on it, enjoying the way you shudder on top of him. “‘Don’t be so’ what?”
That’s right you were going to say something, he looks really nice right now though… eyes lidded and cheeks just slightly pink, lips slick. What were you going to say to him? His grin only grows, taking satisfaction in your glazed eyes and struggle to think. Averting your gaze, you try to remember what you wanted to say. The break in eye contact short lived since he grabs your chin and pulls you back.
“Come on, pretty, what were you gonna say?”
The effect he’s having on you is becoming too much, “I was gonna tell you to not be so depraved!”
“Hmm…” His head quirks at you, “You seem to like it though?”
How presumptuous of him, “You can’t know that!”
“You know… the human body is really interesting, for example…” he looks down to where you’re sitting over his prominent erection, “You’re so incredibly hot against me that I feel like I’m going insane,” smiling back up at you evilly, “Just how wet are you?”
The possibility of fainting is very real all of a sudden, his question has you hot everywhere. “I jus– I just told you to not be so depraved.”
“Yeah and I ignored you,” he deadpans, ignoring your indignant sounds. “Do you want me to stop?”
Again, you hate how badly you don’t want to stop. Right now, you think you’d let him do just about whatever he wanted to you. “Promise not to tease me later?”
“You know I can’t promise that.”
You pout back at him, “Then I’m not gonna say what I was thinking.”
His curiosity is sufficiently piqued, “Fine, I promise to try not to tease you later.”
“That’s not good enough.”
He tries again, “I promise.” You both stay looking at one another for a moment before he adds, “That’s as good as you’re getting.” And you know it to be true.
How to say this without embarrassing yourself, “You can… you can touch me… however you want, Suguru…”
He feels like he’s gone into shock, “What?”
“Did you not hear me?”
“No… I heard you,” he can’t help the way his cock jumps in excitement, “I’m just double checking I heard you right.” He leans in to taunt, “You’re gonna let me touch you however I want?”
“You said you had more knowledge to share,” It’s a dangerous game that you’re both playing.
He breathes out, “And if I wanna touch you in a depraved manner?”
So certain in yourself when you reply, “I want to be touched in a depraved manner… by you.”
Ah, so you’re trying to kill him, is the conclusion that Geto has come to. A breathless laugh leaves him, “For practice?”
“Sure,” you give him the answer you think he wants, in reality you just want to desperately be touched by him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life and it’s all his fault.
An amused sound leaves him, “Hah– Don’t know if I believe your answer there…” his hands are on your hips, slowly dragging you over his dick. Biting his lip at the feeling, cock jumping when your breath stutters.
“Wait– wait,” your hands hold onto his and he stops moving you. Realising now that he might’ve gotten carried away, that he should’ve double checked again.
When you get off his lap and onto shaky legs Geto feels his heart drop, only for it to suddenly pick up speed when you’re shuffling your pants down and off. Crawling back onto him in your panties, he – shamefully – has to put so much focus into keeping calm, so worked up he could cum from this alone.
“Yeah…” you murmur back at him, placing yourself right over his erection again, gasping at how hard he is, at how much more you can feel even through the layers left on, “I lied just now.”
He wants to ask more; he wants to know what you lied about but if he thought you were hot before then he’s melting now. You’re sitting on his dick in the cutest little panties, already so drenched from making out with him that the affection he feels for you fills up his chest. He’s way too distracted right now to ask what he wants.
“Be honest,” it feels like a chore to rip his gaze away from your pussy, “Are you trying to kill me?”
Geto’s eyes are all glassy and blown, cheeks flushed as he implores you, like he’s worried you’re actually trying to kill him. He’s making you feel shy, “It’s your fault I’m acting like this.”
That has him feeling a little prideful, “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” you confirm.
“In that case,” he’s slowly dragging your heated core over his erection again, “Should I fix it?”
You nod your head at him, “…Yeah”
The shivers that run through you make you gasp, the drag over Geto’s dick feeling so much better without your pants on. And yet you can’t help but feel so greedy, a kind of need in your bones that you’ve not experienced before.
He takes his hands away from your hips and you stop moving, whining pathetically at him, “Why–”
“–Keep doing it yourself,” he encourages.
“But–”
“Just do it how it feels good, use me for a bit,” he grins, “I wanna watch you pleasure yourself on me.”
“You really are a perv,” you mutter back at him.
His retort is quick, “Say that to me when your pussy’s not drooling all over my pants.”
Your cunt jumps at his words, “Are you gonna be this crude the whole time?”
“I can be worse if you want?”
“I can’t stand you.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he looks pointedly down to where your cunt is pulsing hot against him. “Now do us both a favour and move,” he hisses out through clenched teeth, apparently nearing his limit.
“You’re so bossy,” you frown, “I’ve never…” You’re at a loss for how to phrase it.
“Dry humped someone before?” He finishes for you, “Though with how wet you are–”
“Shh!” You cover his mouth with your palm, “Stop… talking about how wet I am.”
He pulls your hand away, “You know, I’m not surprised you’ve never–”
“–You don’t have to say it again,” you cut him off.
He rolls his eyes, “You hadn’t even made out with someone, I’m just saying that I didn’t ask you to use me without knowing.” He holds the side of your face gently, “Stop worrying about it so much, I know already… that you’re a huge virgin.”
His gentle touch greatly contrasts his teasing words. He’s so evil to you, “This is why I say you’re not nice.”
“Do you want me to be nice? To tell you how pretty you are and how good of a job you’re doing?” The reaction you have is almost visceral, skin heating and looking away from him. Even more embarrassed when he chuckles at you, “Got a bit of a praise kink, hmm?”
“You’re making this difficult for me.”
“You should’ve just done what I asked then,” he shrugs easily.
If you thought holding out would punish him more than you, then maybe you’d just get off him and go home to get yourself off but you want him to make you feel good. So instead, you’ll just give in and hope he shows you mercy, though by how this is going, he doesn’t seem to be the type.
Experimentally, you roll your hips down into Geto and he huffs out a breath like he wasn’t expecting it. Your hands move to his shoulders for purchase, using the leverage you have there to grind down into him harder.
He holds onto your waist. Not moving you, just resting his hands there, “Oh fuck– no– hah– no warning?”
You shake your head at him, brows pinched as you focus on seeking your own pleasure, “You– hnn– wanted me to– hah– to do as you asked.”
His head falls back slightly at the pleasure, a lazy smile on his face, “That’s true.”
The longer you do this, the slicker his pants get, you’re so unbelievably wet that it’s coating the material obscenely. Geto is in awe of it, eyes fixed on where you’re rutting down into him, marvelling at the damp spot on his pants, at how drenched your panties are. So soaked that they’re practically a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination with how it’s sticking to you.
He holds you still suddenly and the whine you let out is endearing, “Wait for a second,” he huffs.
Moving his hands to his belt to undo it, shuffling his pants down his legs. You lean up on your knees for a moment for him to drop them to his feet but before you can sit back down, his hand is holding you there. He runs the fingers of his other hand through your covered folds, a groan coming from the back of Geto’s throat.
“Seriously, you’re so fucking wet,” he reminds you.
“Sorry…”
He almost chokes, “‘Sorry?’” His fingers draw up to your clit, pressing into it, “Don’t be fucking sorry… I’m nearly salivating because of how drenched you are.”
That catches you off guard, “Sugu–”
He doesn’t let you speak, “–This wet because of me? It’s my fault you said?”
You bite your lip, his fingers circling your clit deliciously, “Mhm.”
His eyes brighten, “Perfect. Aren’t you just perfect for me?”
Your legs start shaking and he lets you drop back to his lap, one less layer between the two of you now. He’s so warm and hard and if you weren’t straddling him, you’d be clenching your thighs together for relief.  
“You are doing such a good job for me,” he whispers low against your ear, “Having the most perfect reactions.”
You whine at his praise, “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Yeah,” he licks against your ear, “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
His size is honestly daunting, large and thick as you sit on it, throbbing underneath you. “Suguru?”
He noses at your cheekbone, “Mmm?”
“I’m worried…”
“About?”
“What if you don’t fit…” you look down to his lap, “I just mean, you feel…big.”
“I don’t have to put it in you,” he comforts but he can’t help the way he twitches at your genuine concern over taking him.
“But you want to?”
“What sort of a question is that?” he holds you down while he grind up into you, “Does it feel like I want to?”
“I was jus– ah!– I was just checking,” you sulk back.
Your mind melts, getting away from you. He’s rutting up into you in a way that has you shaking and your breaths stuttering. On edge for so long while sat in his lap, you want to meet his grinds, you want to move your hips into him but his grip is firm and steady.
It’s honestly a little pitiful how quickly he’s building you up, your insides clenching with the pleasure. The drag back and forth on his clothed cock driving you slowly to insanity. His boxers almost as ruined as your panties, your slick coating his covered dick. The glide much smoother than what you’d expect. It’s like you can feel him throbbing for you and it makes you want to fully take him even more.
Your own thoughts riling you up, the idea of him sitting so heavily inside you makes you huff out a whine. A sound that Geto relishes in, in fact, he’s relishing in all of this. You’re so malleable to his will, he thinks in this state, you’d let him do whatever he pleases. The thought alone nearly has his eyes rolling.
He needs you to cum like this, he needs to see it. How you shake and writhe on top of him, the expression you make. He wants to make you cum in so many different ways just to see how your expressions might differ each time.
It’s relentless, how he humps up into you, how he pulls you down into him. Your clit catching on the tip of his dick making you jump each time, shocks of pleasure running through you. You never thought something like this would feel so damn good.
Fingers grappling at the material of his shirt, pleasure wracking your body as he draws you closer and closer, “Stop– ah!– if you keep going I’ll– hnn–”
“–So soon?” he hums, “I don’t know if– hah– I believe you… you’re gonna have to prove it,” he leers back at you.
His eyes on you feel so consuming, calm and watching but so hungry that it’s driving you to the edge. It feels like you’re melting, so warm and unbelievably close. Body twitching on top of him with your impending orgasm. You don’t even get to try and warn him again, sounds you’ve never heard yourself make falling from your mouth before you can think to stop them. Trembling with the force of your orgasm, feeling so weak as you slump into him, eyes wet and bleary.
Geto feels like he’s vibrating, watching you come undone on top of him making him feel too much at once. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, hands smoothing up and down your back. Lips close to your ear when he speaks, “You know… you make some really cute noises when you cum.”
Lazily, you look up at him through your lashes. Feeling a stupid kind of pleasure running through your body, still jolting slightly with the come down. “Stop trying to embarrass me.”
“I’m only being honest,” his hands slip under your shirt, groping your waist, “You getting embarrassed is just a bonus.”
“Have you always been this sadistic?”
He leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Who knows?” He smiles.
Turning, you catch his mouth with yours. Kissing him properly, hands tickling the back of his neck as you try to kiss him like he did you earlier. His hands on your waist grip you, lips imploring. So needy in how he returns your kiss, all but whining when you part. A string of saliva connects your mouths and he wipes your lower lip with his thumb, pressing it to your lips like he might push it inside.
Eyes lost as he dances his digit over your plush lips, “You’re beautiful,” is all he says, gazing at you with so much affection.
Opening your mouth, you gently take his thumb between your teeth. Biting so very lightly before flicking your tongue over the tip of it. Geto looks like he blushes at the action, pulling his hand back.
“Seems as though I’m not the only tease,” he accuses.
You mutter back at him, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His compliment had made you feel so soft and tingly that you didn’t know what to say or how to react. It’s not like he’s never complimented you before, you just weren’t expecting him to call you beautiful so earnestly. Being given compliments by someone has never made your insides flutter as much as they did just now.
He hums at you, redirecting his attention. Pulling at the hem of your shirt to show what he wants; you lift your arms up so he can remove it from you properly. Feeling so bare on top of him but not really minding, still too blissed on your orgasm to care.
Geto doesn’t waste any time, groping your tits in his large hands. Rolling your nipples experimentally and grinning wide at how you twitch and bite back moans at it. “My, you’re sensitive.”
Teeth digging into your lower lip to stop the pitiful noises he’s threatening to pull from you, “Try not to sound so pleased about that.” Your blood is still thumping through your ears, pleasure fresh in your bones.
“Would you rather I be upset?”
“I’d rather you not make– ah!–”
His wet mouth wrapping around your nipple has your words cutting off suddenly, back arching into him. Huffing out breaths at how he flicks his tongue over your sensitive skin, dizzy from the heat he’s making you feel. Pulling back with an obscene pop, licking at you a final time while keeping eye contact before swapping to your neglected tit.
He’s playing with you, or he’s waiting for you to say you’re ready for more… no he’s definitely just playing with you. Taking his time leaving marks all over your tits, even biting some places. Neglecting himself in favour of teasing you to insanity, though it can’t be that painful for him considering how he’s enjoying this immensely.
Whining at him, “You– hah!– You’re gonna leave too many marks,” he ignores you in favour of making a new mark to the top of your breast, “Suguru!”
Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull him back with a tug. You’re frowning at him but your eyes are so wet and dazed and you’re nearly completely naked on top of him. Covered in hickeys and his saliva, despite your pulled brows you look so euphoric.
Feigning ignorance, he simpers, “What’s wrong with that?” A finger trails over the marks he’s left, grazing a sensitive nipple in his journey, “You seemed to liked it.”
Swallowing your pride, you tell him directly, “I want more.”
“You want to cum again?” He muses, “Greedy.”
Taking offence at his accurate guess, you add, “I want… you to as well.”
Geto ignores the thumping of his heart, “Take off your panties then.”
“But…”
A brow raises at you, “‘But’ what?”
You don’t really want to tell him about how shaky your legs are, you’re a little concerned they’ll give out as soon as you try to stand. He really doesn’t need the ego boost right now, “Nothing.”
Moving off him so so carefully, you keep your hands on his shoulders as you stand between his spread legs. With the way your knees are wobbling and fingers gripping to him so harshly, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that you’ve not really got a great sense of balance right now. A smug smile gracing his lips when he sees you fight to figure out how you’re going to take off your panties with your hands on him.
“Something wrong?”
“No,” You quickly answer.
“Then take them off,” a finger pulls at the waistline of your underwear only to let it snap back to you. At your continued struggle he adds, “Or do you want me to take them off for you?”
You look to him, eyes hopeful for mercy, “Please?”
“Sure,” his tone polite but you’re not sure you’re that trusting of him.
Thankfully, his hands slide them delicately down your legs, brushing against your thighs. Though, he’s an opportunist and he uses this chance to grip at your thighs, pulling at your skin further and further up your legs. Humming low to himself at the slick coating your inner thighs, unable to help himself when he drags his fingers through your folds, touching your pussy directly.
“Fuck, alright–” He bites out, pulling you to his lap suddenly, “I’ve reached my limit.”
“Wait,” he stops his frantic movements and you pull at his shirt, “Take it off.”
He doesn’t even tease, just immediately does as you asked, hastily tugging his shirt off. It’s dropped less than gracefully onto the floor. Your fingers dance along his shoulders, down his chest. You want to take it all in a bit more but he’s flopping onto his back and shucking his boxers down enough to pull his cock free.
The size of him almost has your eyes bulging, you wonder how he’s been so patient when he’s this hard and achy looking. Tip flushed deep pink and already smothered in his own leaky precum, your cunt throbs while looking at him. Caught between concern over his size and a desperate need to be full of him.
“You don’t have to take it but please just–” He grabs and moves you until you’re hovering over it, “Sit on it at least.”
Lowering yourself cautiously, you sit on him lightly. He can feel your heat and it makes him shiver, “I don’t need you to be gentle with me,” he snickers, “Split your pussy open on my dick.”
Geto doesn’t even give you the chance to do it yourself, hands tugging you down onto him with more force. A gasp ripping from you when he immediately starts dragging you back and forth on his whole length. Stifled groans leave him from under you, his chest vibrating under your palm.
“Sugu–”
“–Sorry,” his brows are knitted together, “I got– nnh– impatient.”
It’s so wet, slipping over him repeatedly, the head of his cock nudging your clit over every pass. Your teeth dig into your lower lip to fight the whines bubbling inside you but eventually you give up and just let yourself moan. He seems to like it anyways, cock jerking at the soft breaths and whimpers leaving you.
He’s on the brink of stupidity, you’re so soft and unbelievably warm and his tip keeps catching on your hole and it makes him shudder each time. Looking down, he watches the way you’re coating his cock in more of your slick, cock shiny with how wet you are. Lewd sounds of your pussy grinding over him fill the room and now he’s thinking about you creaming around him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life.
“Sugu,” you call out to him and he dopily pulls his eyes to yours, “Do you think I could just…” when his cockhead catches on your hole again, you press down, not even taking him in any real way and yet still stretching slightly for it.
His grip hardens on you, holding you completely still, “There’s no ‘just’ anything.” He struggles to breath out evenly, “Not with how tight you are.”
“I wanna feel full though,” you try wiggling down into him but he’s truly got you in a vice like hold.
His cock twitches as excitement rushes through him, “You asking me to take your virginity, pretty?”
Shy when you ask, “Would you?”
He’s not passing on the chance to pick on you a little bit, “How bad do you want it?”
He can feel the way your hole flutters when you think about his question, your answer seemingly downplaying how you feel, “Pretty bad.”
“Hmm,” He pretends to think about his answer.
You’re taking issue with his faux deep thought, “Sugu, stop acting like you’re not…”
“Go on,” he encourages, “‘Like I’m not’ what?”
“Like you’re not…” you look away from him, mumbling out, “Aching for it…”
“Oh? You aching for it?” The smile he’s wearing can be heard in his words.
He sounds way too gleeful over this and it’s ticking you off, “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lift yourself off him.
“Don’t be like that,” he sits up, “I’m not letting you go anywhere… not when I know you’re aching for my cock.”
“I did not say that.”
“That’s what I heard you say,” he shrugs.
Geto’s arms wrap around you only to throw you down onto the bed, gone from you for a second while he shoves his boxers off quickly. And then he’s crawling over you, hands tracing up your body, relishing in your reactions to him.
“You really are so sensitive,” he mutters, trailing a finger up your thigh and watching your skin break out in goosebumps.
He’s being so unbearable, the need you feel is so loud and he’s here taunting you, “You’re so frustrating.”
“You’re just a needy little thing,” he returns, “So desperate to be filled even though you’re not prepared in the slightest.”
“Then prepare me,” you whine back.
He finds this about you cute, your insatiable greed, your back and forth between shy and so horny that you’re getting pissy at him. “I should teach you some manners,” he grumbles.
You spread your legs for him obscenely, growing even more impatient. “Please, touch me,” you pull his hand towards your pussy, “please.”
If he ever gets the chance to touch you like this again he’s going to torture you because right now you’re playing so completely unfairly that he can’t even think to deny you. His brows pull up as he flushes, finding himself doing exactly what you wanted, fingers gliding through your folds.
The way you keen at his touch almost makes it worth it. “You don’t play fair,” he complains.
“Someone lead by– hah!– po– poor example, I guess,” you shudder when he slips a single finger inside you.
Geto groans at the snug heat of your cunt, closing his eyes to take a quick breath at just how you feel wrapped around his digit. The fear or cumming the minute he gets inside you is real; he’s going to have to develop an insane amount of self-restraint between then and now.
“You’re hilarious,” he leans down to whisper in your hear, “Now shhh…” He draws his finger back before fucking it back in, lewd wet sounds of your pussy filling the silence, “Hear that?” He keeps repeating his movements, taking immense joy in how you writhe under him, “I think… pretty things that are this wet and begging to get fucked… don’t get to mock me.”
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, eyes glassy when you look up at him, “Don’t– nnh– be sooo mean.”
“You haven’t seen me be mean,” he pulls his finger back just to stuff another inside you, grinning when you arch your back at it, “I’ve only been nice to you today.”
“Be nicer,” you pout.
“Don’t wanna be,” he smiles graciously back at you.
The fingers he has in you scissor to spread you open, pleased hums leaving him at your responses. Your mouth drops open and legs shake, fighting to close but unable to with how he’s in-between them. He’s hitting all the perfect spots inside you, crooking his digits to rub against your inner walls in a way you’re never able to reach.
He’s getting you so close to cumming that you want to hide from him, somehow feeling so much more vulnerable like this than when you were sitting in his lap earlier. Slowly, he works you to the point of taking another of his fingers, fucked open on three of them now. Your toes curl and your thighs hoist themselves on either side of his waist. Hips grinding into his hand, meeting his movements.
Geto finds the frenzied and desperate grinds into his hand adorable, satisfied with just how much more greedy you get when you’re this turned on. He already knows you must be close, your sudden drive to fuck down onto his fingers a dead giveaway to him.
He adds his thumb, rubbing circles into your clit. You jerk at it, tits bouncing in a way that has him drooling. To be honest, if you weren’t practically begging to get dicked down earlier he would’ve put his mouth on you. Maybe if he weren’t also desperate to put his cock in you he’d do it anyways but for now, he’ll settle for fingerfucking you to insanity and then shoving you full of his dick.
Your voice comes out smaller than you want, “Sugu, I think–”
“–I know,” his eyes are bright, fully aware of how close you are.
He can feel the way you twitch and clench down on him, back arching off the bed. Speeding up his movements just to get you there that much quicker and when you’re about to cum all over his fingers… he pulls them from you. Leaving you without your orgasm but so high that he could blow on your clit and you might cum.
You whine at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Expression dopey and angry, sexually frustrated from the cruel and unexpected edging he just put you through. “What the hell, Suguru?!”
His grin is wolfish, merciless expression painted over with faux pity, “I’m so sorry, pretty. Were you close?” A hand cradles your face, soothing you for something that is completely his fault.
“Why would you do that?” All he’s succeeded in is making you needier than before, squirming under him with no way to find relief.
His answer is simple, “Just to see how you’d react.”
“I shouldn’t have hung out with you today.”
“Don’t be like that,” he guides his dick to your cunt, “I’m ‘bout to treat you so good.”
“If you don’t let me cum we’re not friends anymore,” you warn.
He snickers at how genuine you’re being, “Alright.”
“I mean it, Suguru.”
“I know you do,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “That’s why it’s a little tempting.”
You whine at him, “Can you stop being so cruel for a moment?”
He blinks at you, “What do I get if I do?”
“What do you want?”
“I want to be the first person you go on a date with.”
His request confuses you, “What? Why?”
He doesn’t answer you, “Those are my terms,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Okay! Fine, yes, whatever you want,” you nod at him.
He smiles and starts pushing into you, the stretch is a lot and it aches more than his fingers. You’re trying to breathe through it but it seems like he is too. His thumb is on your clit, trying to get you to relax for him. “St– stop– hah– fuck!– stop clenching so tight,” he hisses through his teeth.
“I can’t– nnh– help it,” your nails dig into his skin.
His lashes flutter when he gets his tip inside you, groan leaving him. “Wh– when I s–say date I mean– hnnn– a real date. A ‘I take you out and then try kissing you at the end of it’ date.”
For some reason, that makes your insides twist and you squirm. “Wh– whatever you– nnh– want, Sugu.”
“Yeah? You’re gonna– hah– dress up and let me take you out for your first ever date?” His fingers grip at his blanket below.
Your eyes roll as he slips further inside you, babbling out, “If you– hnn– let me cum? I’ll date only you.”
Geto sputters at that, hips driving forwards on their own making you both moan. His upper body drops down to you, lips ghosting over your neck and cheek before taking yours in a sweet kiss. He knows you’re out of your mind horny and probably not even sure of what you just said but he’s going to live in this moment while he fucks you.
He’s kissing your breath away while he slowly fills you to the hilt, trying so hard to be careful with you. His lips successfully distract you from the ache you were feeling, melting into him as he licks at your tongue.
Parting from you only when he’s balls deep inside you, head flopping to your shoulder as he moans. Struggling to keep it together, you’re wrapped so snug and hot around him, pulsing so tightly around his aching cock that he feels like he might cum at any second.
“Sugu?” When he hums, you continue, “Move please?”
You wiggle your hips into him but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand, “If you don’t want this ending right now then you need to give me a moment.”
“Hmm, that’s awfully cute of you, Suguru,” you tease him.
“That’s bold,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “I’m going to ruin you.”
“More than you already have?”
He agrees, “So much more.”
It feels like an eternity before he’s finally dragging his hips back, that alone has your breath stuttering. He wants to set a punishing pace so bad; he wants to fuck you until you’re mad but he starts slow. Thrusting back into you at a languid pace, still carefully opening you up on his fat dick. It’s your first time and as much as he loves torturing you, he also loves pleasing you.
You’re scrabbling for purchase at his leisurely pace anyways, not expecting the heavy drag of his cock to feel this mind numbing. He chuckles lowly at the way you’re already weak for him, though it’s completely his fault considering all he’s put you through up until now.
“I think you may be the awfully cute one,” he smirks at you.
Your insides tug at his tone, “You can– hnn– be quiet.”
Leaning up, he rest on his knees, pushing your leg back and up. He has a great view of you taking him like this, able to see all your reactions. “I can but your pussy really likes when I talk.”
He’s so smug and he gets to be too because he’s right, his lightly mocking tone and that polite smile he wears is a deadly combo that has your cunt seizing around him. “I like it– hah– better when you’re nice to me.”
“You’re taking me all so well, pretty,” he praises, “Pussy sucking me right back in, so greedily.”
Your eyes roll back at how he thrusts into you, new angle hitting deeper than before, “That’s not– hnn– being nice!”
“Really?” He watches the way your hole clenches and feels how much wetter you get around him, “‘Cause you seemed to like it a lot.”
You bite your lip as you look up at him, silently asking for him to fuck you.
He looks down his nose at you, “What are you asking for?”
Sulking, “I want you to– hah– move more.”
“You should’ve just said that then,” he crooks his head to the side at you.
The slow drag out is the same as always until he’s fucking himself back into you sharply, a gasped moan stumbling from you as your hands seek stability in the mattress below. Your whine is dragged out when he repeats it over and over, brows knitted together in your pleasure.
“That’s a nice reaction,” he comments smugly.
You only hum at him, too consumed by the feeling of him shoving his dick in and out over and over in such a relentless pace that you’re seeing stars. Either you’ve closed your eyes or they’ve rolled to the back of your head because you’re not seeing much of anything right now.
Your eyes are welling with tears, chest heaving with your breaths. The stretch in your leg increasing when Geto pushes down into you further, pushing back on your leg with it. He’s basically folded it over his shoulder, you had no idea you were capable of bending this much. You’re so dazed and fucked stupid when you look to him lazily, he looks so pretty like this. Hunched over you and driving his cock in and out of your tight heat, his hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face as his expression twists in bliss.
Reaching a hand up, you tuck a strand of his hair behind his hair, “You’re pretty.”
You say it so dopily that he wonders if you know what you’ve just said, “I’m fucking you to the point you’re cock drunk and you think I’m pretty?”
A shudder runs through you at his voice, “Mhm, and– ah!– you have– hnn– have a pretty voice.”
God help him, he’s about to cum from you calling him pretty. “St– stop– hnn– talking.”
“Sugu, you feel so–”
He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, he has a feeling that whatever you were about to say would have him cumming inside you. “You’re so cute but I need you to shut up before I cum.”
From behind his hand, you look ruined. Tears slipping from your eyes, he can feel the way you’re drooling against his skin. The only sounds in the room his grunts, your muffled moans and the slick squelching of you swallowing his cock.
You want to keep telling him how pretty he is and how good he’s making you feel but even without him hindering you, you feel as though you may be beyond words now. Brain not able to form very cohesive thoughts as of this moment let alone speak them. He has you feeling so full, his cock throbbing against your walls in a way that has your skin thrumming.
Geto’s eyes lock down on where he’s stuffing himself into your little cunt, he feels himself short circuiting at the sight. Pussy bulging around him, struggling to take him all, dick so shiny with your slick. White creamy ring at the base of himself, it’s messy and lewd and it has him feeling so unbelievably obsessed with your cunt.
Thinking distantly that he’s going to do his best to impress you on your date so he can have you again, next time he’s definitely licking your pussy. Debauched groans vibrate in his chest at the thought, he’s going to make this so unforgettable for you, he needs you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. He’s going to be so much worse after this and he was already down pretty bad.
Your hand grabs at his wrist, trying to tug it away so you can speak. He pulls back out of curiosity, “I– hnn– I’m– ah!–” Giving up trying to warn him after a particular thrust has you crying out, there’s no real point in warning him anyways.
He grins at your inability to say anything meaningful, “I’ve gotcha, go ahead and cum for me.”
Of course he knew exactly what you were trying to say, how does he already know your body so perfectly. He leans down to you, impossibly close, just to kiss your cheek and say, “Come on, pretty, I wanna feel you squeeze me tight before I cum in you.”
Crude and obscene and effective because his words make you shudder as you suddenly cum around him. A little frantic in how you squirm under him, eyes rolling as your hips fight to fuck yourself onto his thrusts. Pitiful whimpers of his name leaving you repeatedly, the only really comprehensive thing you’re able to utter out.
Geto’s orgasm is immediately triggered by yours, he was hoping he’d get to play with you a little more but as soon as he felt the sinful way you gripped him while you came, he was done for. Your cunt pulsating around him milking him for all he’s worth, he’s cumming so much so deeply. His hips flush to yours as he only grinds into you to ride out both your highs.
He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that much in his life and he’s unsure if it’s because it’s you or because he held back for so long. His weight drops to you as he catches his breath, feeling spent and so drunk on your pussy that if he thought too hard about you he’d get hard again.
Your hand taps lightly at his shoulder, words all garbled when you speak, “Sugu, too heavy.”
Shoving his arms under you, he rolls until you’re on top of him. Cock slipping from you in the process and it has you letting out a cute whine.
“It’s leaking out of me,” you warn him.
He groans, “Don’t say that.”
You rest your check to his collarbone, “Why not?”
“I’ll get turned on again.”
Rolling your eyes at him, “You’re an insatiable pervert.”
“You’re not much better.”
His hands tickle up your sides, repeating the motion over, it’s making you feel sleepy. “You’re still worse.”
He just hums at you, apparently not caring to argue back. “You gonna be okay to shower?”
“In a bit… and only if you carry me the whole time.”
He laughs at that, “Sure.”
You draw mindless patterns on his chest with your finger, “So… where are you taking me on my first date?”
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𝒂.𝒏. this was actually a request that i got carried away with,, my requests aren't even open i just fucked with the idea that hard hehe.... i hope you all enjoyed and thank you very much for reading !!!
(i recently made a discord for my followers so if you guys are interested in that please check out the pinned page on my blog :3)
[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
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enhani-ki · 3 days ago
Text
fuckboy!ni-ki x reader ᡣ𐭩。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, mentions of killing, etc.
read part two here
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✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.
a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.
ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.
when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.
it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.
girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.
he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.
he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.
they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.
but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.
ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.
he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.
finally.
and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.
"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.
and your body in his grasp stiffened.
ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.
there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body.
only silence.
ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.
you're a face he had never seen before.
"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.
"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.
ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.
ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.
fuck.
not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. simple.
what happened with you? that bothered him.
maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.
he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely.
but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.
great.
ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it, but it's the least he could do, right?
he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate.
"hey."
your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned to leave.
ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"
you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."
he let go but he's also expecting you to run again though he's not letting you off easily.
his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"
"i gotta go…"
"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."
"your girlfriend?"
ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"
you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"
he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.
"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.
parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.
ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.
he's sitting with his friends, a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said, even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.
"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"
ni-ki exhaled through his nose, he's not in the mood yet and ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.
huh.
you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places. it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.
the girl beside him was still talking, but he wasn't listening. his smirk twitched and his interest became completely derailed.
"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.
she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.
he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance. his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.
"wow… you're-"
you covered yourself quickly, your arms crossing over your chest, and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence
"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.
he blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands back into his pockets.
you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"
ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he admitted, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."
his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.
he was enjoying himself, honestly.
his eyes kept drifting to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.
he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just thrilled to be by your side.
you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room, then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.
ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"
you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"
"why are you so mad at me?"
"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."
"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"
you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.
"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.
"what the hell-"
ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."
you hesitated.
he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."
you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.
you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.
your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.
"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.
ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"
you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.
"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.
"he just helped me find you." you replied, and without another word, you grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the exit.
"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.
ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.
as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation, eyes gleaming.
"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"
you groaned. "it's not what you think!"
she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"
you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"
she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"
you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"
she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.
"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"
she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.
you grabbed it back.
she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."
you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.
"don't get so weird about this." you warned.
she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."
"there is no me and ni-ki!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.
he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.
he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.
he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"
you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"
ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."
but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?
he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.
"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"
you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...
fuck it.
because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.
it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.
he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.
your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.
you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"
ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"
you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.
he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.
he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?
"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"
"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."
"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"
shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.
for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.
he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.
"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.
ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."
you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.
so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.
you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"
ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."
"you're apologizing?"
ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."
you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."
he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss..."
you rolled your eyes, "whatever."
then ni-ki hugged you.
you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"
ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"
"by hugging me?!"
"would you rather i kiss you again?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.
you scowled. "you're such a pervert."
his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."
you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."
he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"
you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.
ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.
ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.
like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, and making sure you got home safe after study sessions.
he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.
totally normal. nothing weird.
but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.
you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"
like, damn. he was actually trying here.
then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.
your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.
or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.
when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.
ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.
his first thought?
"God, i wanna touch."
his second thought?
"i need help."
you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.
you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.
"you… bought this for me?"
"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."
you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"
ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.
instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.
"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"
a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."
he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki who can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around
ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.
but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.
you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.
ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"
"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.
"…please?"
you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."
then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.
"what, it didn't give you your snack?"
"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."
ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.
the the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.
the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.
so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.
"my phone is dead," you said.
he smiled "finally."
you glared, "give me your charger."
ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"
you pouted. "please?"
his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.
ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."
"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.
"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."
you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."
ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.
you regret this.
you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.
big mistake.
now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.
sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.
you gulped.
then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"
you quickly looked away. "shut up."
he only laughed.
later, back in your room, you are dying.
your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.
"you're overreacting." he said.
"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."
"i did!" he defended, snickering.
you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.
ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"
you looked at him. "you give massages?"
he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."
you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.
the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.
"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.
ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"
"ah, ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.
ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.
your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.
he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.
he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.
"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.
silence.
ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips parted slightly.
his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, ni-ki's heart pounded while reaching out, gently brushing your hair aside.
and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.
your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, giving him more access.
a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.
ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.
"…a- are you awake?" he asked.
silence.
panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.
ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.
the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.
his jaw clenched as he glanced down at cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.
ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.
he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.
the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.
"hey, ni-"
"how fast can you get here?"
the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"
click. that's too late.
ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.
and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed a set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.
push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day.
you burst out laughing the moment you saw him.
he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.
"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.
ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."
"wha- my fault? what did i do?"
he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."
you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"
ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."
when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.
"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.
he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.
"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.
you tried the handle. locked.
ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."
you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"
and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.
you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.
"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.
you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.
his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.
you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.
it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.
"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.
ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.
your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.
but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.
you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."
ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.
"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.
his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"
"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"
"you're comfy."
you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.
"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"
your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.
ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."
you laughed awkwardly. "right..."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.
ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.
ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.
"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.
and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.
"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.
he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.
and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"
ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."
you smacked his arm.
later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"
"who do you like better, me or him?"
you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"
"just answer."
"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."
ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.
"i'm not your friend."
"yes, you are."
ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."
rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..
you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.
but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.
he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.
and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.
"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.
you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.
"…huh?"
he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.
"that's what i thought."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.
you used to slap his hands away.
his arm over your shoulder? gone.
sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.
grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.
but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.
the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.
you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.
"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.
ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.
"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."
you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.
ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.
he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"
your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.
ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"
"far away from you."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.
"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.
you raised a brow. "why?"
he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."
you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"
"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."
you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.
before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.
you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"
ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.
your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.
you turned to him, speechless.
ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.
the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.
"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"
"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."
your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.
what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?
ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.
he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.
you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.
he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."
you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.
at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.
ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.
he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.
you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.
"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.
your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.
then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.
he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.
you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.
ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.
he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.
his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.
ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.
but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.
he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.
you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.
soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.
ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."
"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.
you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.
the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.
your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.
your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.
"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.
starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."
your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."
he knew you were close.
he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.
and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.
after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.
you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.
rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...
completely wrecked by him.
he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.
and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.
"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.
never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.
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a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3 read PART TWO HERE
similiar: read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend
read Nishimura Riki as your classmate
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part 2
read snitch - reader x ni-ki
read touché - ni-ki x reader
read touché - ni-ki x reader part 2
read exes - ni-ki x reader
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hoshifighting · 2 days ago
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Hii so like could you either each member reaction or a drabble with woozi (whatever you're more comfortable writing) being sub and you riding them/him and making them cum over and over until they are milked up dry and cannot physically cum anymore
riding seventeen until they cant physically cum anymore (getting milked dry)
WARNINGS: smut, strong overstimulation, cock riding, sensitive content, may not be comfortable to some audiences, you're warned.
seungcheol: starts giggling. not in a “haha that tickles” way but in an “i am so fucked out of my mind i don’t even know what’s happening anymore” way. GETS IN DENIAL TOO!!. like, he’s still gripping your hips, trying to thrust up into you even though his dick is not responding. “no, i can—i can go again, baby, just—just gimme a sec—” except it’s been five minutes, and all he’s done is twitch pathetically underneath you. when you tell him he’s done, he gets all pouty, brows furrowed, whispering, “fuck… you really drained me dry?” like he just realized he isn’t the tank he thought he was.
jeonghan: not even moving anymore. fully limp, sprawled out, arms above his head, legs twitching, eyes hazy as he blinks at the ceiling. broken. defeated. ruined. you squeeze him and there’s nothing—just a weak, pitiful little tremor. “honey, i think you killed me,” he mutters, voice raspy as hell, before exhaling real deep, like he just finished a marathon. gives up completely, just lays there, blinking at you like you just rewired his entire system.
joshua: on the verge of tears. whimpering. shaking. clinging. you try to grind down on him again, but his hips jolt so hard, you swear he’s about to short-circuit. “baby—oh my god—i cant—icanticanticanticanicant” and it’s the most broken, high-pitched plea you’ve ever heard. his hands weakly push at your thighs, but they have no strength.
junhui: prob laughing in disbelief. giggling, eyes red and watery, his head lolled to the side, looking at you with this dazed-ass grin. “oh my god, i’m so done,” he breathes, chest heaving, abs clenching, still twitching with aftershocks. you grind down just a little, just to test, and his whole body spasms, a wrecked whimper escaping him before he laughs even harder, shaking his head like, “nah, babe, you actually ended me. oh? i cant feel my legs? ”
hoshi: BRO IS CLINGING FOR LIFE. good luck with the bruises, because he is full-on latching onto you, fingers digging into your skin, forehead pressed to your shoulder, legs raising in desperate spasms all the time, entire body trembling. “baby, baby, i—i can’t—oh my god—i swear~~~” his voice sooooo broken, and every time his dick twitches uselessly, he lets out the softest little sob, hiding his face in your neck like he’s so embarrassed that you just milked him out of existence.
wonwoo: completely unresponsive. eyes glazed over. mouth open. chest barely rising. looks like he just got hit by a bus. his arms are flopped uselessly at his sides, and when you move, his thighs twitch involuntarily. you squeeze around him and nothing happens—no pulse, no twitch, just nothing. “holy fuck,” he mutters like he just got his soul snatched straight out of his body.
woozi: shaking like a fucking leaf. wrists trembling, legs trembling, hands trembling, chin trembling, abs trembling, breath completely uneven, looking up at you like you just broke him beyond repair. “b-baby, i—i don’t have anything left—” and his voice cracks so hard, you actually feel a little bad. he tries to lift his hips, tries to respond to you, but his body refuses, and when you tell him it’s over, he just collapses back against the sheets. he's not a biiiig fan of aftercare, but that night, he will accept everything you can to repair his pieces together.
minghao: fully dissociating. bro is just staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, hands twitching, looking like he just had an out-of-body experience. you say his name and it takes him five full seconds to even register it. you squeeze around him, testing, and his head instantly tilts back, a wrecked groan falling from his lips, but there’s nothing left. “nah, that’s it, babe,” he breathes, completely spent, just laying there in absolute surrender.
mingyu: whimpering so much, you actually think he might start crying. clinging onto you, lips trembling, eyes wet, entire body twitching. “i—i can’t cum anymore—...?” and his voice breaks mid-sentence, you don't even know if its an affirmation or a quesiton bc he literally can’t. when you try to grind down one more time, his hips buck so hard, he yells, then collapses back, panting, eyes rolling back into his head.
seokmin: fully overstimulated beyond belief. whimpering, shaking, eyes glassy, hands weakly grabbing at your hips like he’s trying to slow you down but has no strength left. “b-baby, please—!!!” when you finally stop, he physically melts into the bed, body slack, chest heaving, just laying there shaking and completely ruined.
seungkwan: full-body twitching. thighs shaking, abs twitching, arms weakly draped over his face, hiding his wrecked expression. “fuck, baby, i’m—i’m done—” he gasps, his voice hoarse as hell, sounding like he just ran up a mountain. when you finally let him go, he just lets out the deepest, shakiest sigh, body going completely slack.
vernon: completely unresponsive part 2. bro is just laying there, eyes blank, mouth slightly open, looking like he just got his entire EXISTENCE reset. you say his name, and nothing. you touch his thigh, and nothing. when he finally blinks, he just tilts his head towards you, chest still rising and falling rapidly “you actually fucked me dry.”
chan: thought he could handle it but by the fourth orgasm, he was whimpering, “no more, no more—”, so now, he is completely silent. doesn’t even try to talk, just stares at you, mouth slightly open, eyes red form crying. he just lays there, staring at you like you just fried his last brain cell.
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Text
It’s been months since Simon has been home
All he wants is to see you, his sweet girl, so much so that he loses track of what the actual date on the calendar is, in favour of counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you’re in his arms again
That’s why Simon’s surprise when he walks in to the local shops is genuine, before quickly turning into annoyance, when he notices that almost all the shelves are stocked with things for Valentine’s Day
Bright red, pink, and purple gifts covered in glitter and sparkles, sequins and jewels, all of them screaming out one word, over and over and over again for shoppers to see
Love
It’s a word Simon tries not to think about too often, in spite of it being part of his daily vocabulary
Yes, while your hunk of a man’s favourite pet name for you has always been love, it’s a word he has yet to say to you outside of being anything more than a name, a word he has yet to say he feels for you, even though his heart spells it out with ease each time he is with you
It’s hard for him because he can remember exactly the last time he told someone that three word sentence
Christmas Eve, a lifetime ago, he’d just gotten off the phone with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, hearing the young boy shout out into the receiver that he loved his uncle Si, a light hearted chuckle slipping past the Lieutenants lips before he’d replied back without issue that he loved him too, before he hung up and never heard his family’s voices ever again
He wants to say it to you because it’s true
He does love you more than anything, but he just can’t bring himself to say it
Those memories have become so tangled up in trauma, his mind associating darker times with those three goddamn words, the ones he knows would mean so much for you to hear he just can’t bring himself to speak aloud
He has dreams where he forces himself to say it, where he tells you a thousand times over that he loves you, whispers it in your ear, shouts it from the rooftops, writes it down everywhere for you to see and even etches it into his flesh with a needle and ink, until the dreams become nightmares and he’s yelling those words at your bloody corpse, writing it in the snow dusting your tombstone, waking up in a cold sweat, dreading the day you say those three words to him and he can’t explain why he can’t say them back
And while he can’t yet explain to you all of the demons that continue to call his skull their home, he finds himself not needing to, not with you
With you, there is no pressure to say things that cause him more pain than joy, there is no need to explain things that he struggles to fully comprehend himself, there is no need to perform or act in any way that isn’t true to him, not with you, his sweet girl who somehow understands him more than he feels he understands himself most days
Instead, with you, he gets to say things that are his own version of I love you, no matter how grand or small:
“I see you”
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had”
“I can’t believe I get to call you mine”
“You make me so happy”
“Let me carry that for you”
“Put your seatbelt on”
“I made dinner”
“I’ll do the dishes, you go sit”
When the 14th of February eventually rolls around, you aren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, never having acknowledged the upcoming gimmick of a holiday with Simon
Which is why you’re so surprised when you wake up to find the spot next to you in bed empty, noises in the kitchen letting you know Simon hasn’t gone far
Bare feet slowly padding towards the sounds of a grand breakfast being prepared with much frustration from a seasoned soldier who struggles to use seasoning, you can’t help the overwhelming grin that takes over you face when you see nothing more than a simple card standing up on the dining table, no bells or whistles, no flower petals thrown all over the flat, no orchestra serenading you awake, just you and Simon, all you need, all you want
Reading the card stretches your smile further than you thought possible, quickly sneaking up on your love to wrap your arms around him from behind, his own matching smile etched upon his face as he scrambles up the eggs, imagining you enjoyed the card, which reads in his scratchy handwriting:
“ I ♥️ you ”
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twinkletfout · 1 day ago
Text
Baby making with 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢
You both decided to take it easy after marriage before trying for a baby, and kento was perfectly fine with it. But when you finally approached him, telling him that you wanted a baby, with him. He didn't know that it had such an effect on him when it fell from your lips. Of course he did not expect that, you were tying his tie like usual before he leaves for work, a simple routine that he grew to love. "About having a baby.." you started, your eyes anywhere other than his.
Oh but kento couldn't be more happier, a slight smile tugging on the corners of his lips before he hums, "yes..?" He urges you to go on. Your eyes peeked up to face him, to see him already looking at you, intently. Watching every expression flashing across your face, your body language making it clear that you were shy. "Don't you think we should start trying..?" You said, the red tint spreading across your cheeks didn't go unnoticed by him. "Well, yes of course." He leaned in, his hands coming to wrap around your waist to pull you in before he whispered before kissing, The little goodbye kiss you both shared right before he goes to work. "Cant wait, for tonight"
The last dialogue of his was still replaying in your mind all day, your mind seems to wander to what he said, even when you were trying to focus on your work, even when you went up to open the door to him, even when he pushed you on to the wall as he kissed you impatiently like he was waiting for this moment all day, just like you.
He didn't know he was waiting this much for this moment with you, until now. Your nails gently clawed on his back as he entered you, shushing and murmuring sweet nothings and praises in your ear. And when he finally reaches all the way in, you could feel him whole, twitching uncontrollably against your deepest parts, you knew he was just as excited as you were. You whimpers and moans only fueling his desire before he starts moving, he holds you so close, so gently, his big hands wrapping you whole before he increases his pace, "shh, its okay, love, fuck— princess its too much, relax f' me?" He groans, because of the way you are squeezing down on him, cause god, you were feeling too good that you coudnt even control yourself.
Your mind was so full of pleasure, as you were laid on top of him, one of his hands wrapped around your waist and the other one holding your head gently as he rammed inside you. His face cuddled to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Gon fill you up soo good, hmkay?" And he holds you close to him, when he finally cums, pushing into you deeper as his hips thrust for one last time as he dumps his final load inside. Gosh it feels warm, the way you could feel him pumping you so full. "Fuck- you look so beautiful like this, sweetheart" he whispered as he pulled out, to see your pussy dripping with him. GAHHHH I WANT HIM SO BADD
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gaysindistress · 1 day ago
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Things Simon Riley says
Masterlist
Nothing.
This man is silent all of the time.
It’s unsettling.
You almost think he’s mute because of how eerily silent he is literally all of the time.
(You had also thought he was deaf so you attempted to sign really badly and John lost his shit laughing. “He can hear just fine love. He’s just an arsehole.”)
John is your personal translator for the first few months and can somehow read Simon’s expressions while you slowly figure it out.
Which leads to the first time he does speak around you.
Simon, his voice hoarse and low from no use, greeting you for the first time as he walks into John’s house, “good ta see ya.”
Simon shaking his head and chuckling at your wide and startled eyes.
Simon slowly saying more and more to you, sometimes it’s a simple, “how are ya today?” and other times it’s your name in that baritone gruff voice that heats up your face.
Simon grumbling at Johnny when he attempts to sit beside you at dinner one night, “no, move.”
Simon glaring at him and uttering the simple two words again.
Simon quietly saying, “food’s good,” to you as you all finish your meal and you nearly choke on your food thanking him.
Simon correctly the guys when they refer to you as ‘John’s neighbor’, “she’s got a name. Use it.”
Simon barking out, “10 more laps for that shit” when they’re all doing PT and Johnny pops off about how he might ask out “John’s cute little neighbor.”
Simon sending you a text one day that reads “dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”
Simon making causal conversation as he methodically prepares ramen for you two, the hulking man taking up your entire kitchen, “How long ‘ave ya lived here?”
Simon blocking you entering the kitchen when you try to clean up with a stern , “no sit down and eat. I cooked so I’ll clean up.”
Simon keeping your weekly dinners up for months until he has to go on a mission and before he leaves the last time, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips while whispering “I’ll be back. 6 months tops. Take pictures of everything you make and we’ll make together when I get back.”
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kashverse · 2 days ago
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CAN you PLEASE PLEASE make a drabble of Toji taking care of sleepy Mamaguro and Megumi? I think it would be so adorable. 🧎
oh to continue writing happy toji and happy mamaguro reader... 🚬
the mission was simple: stay up until 12 a.m. to wish toji a happy birthday. you and megumi, the last-standing warriors of the fushiguro household, sat by the door like hyper puppies, waiting for your beloved husband—your fearless protector—your batman (you are not explaining to a six-year-old what an assassin is)—to return home. it was going perfectly until your phone buzzed.
gonna be late. emergency job. don’t wait up.
you stare at the screen. then at megumi. then back at the screen.
the bastard forgot his own birthday.
your son, wise beyond his years, folds his arms and scowls. “so, what, we just give up?” you slap the table dramatically. “absolutely not.”
if there was one thing you and megumi had in common—besides your unwavering judgment of toji’s life choices—it was stubbornness. this mission would not fail. if your husband wanted to be late to his own birthday, that was his problem. but you and megumi? you were gonna be ready. so, naturally, you both made the worst decision possible.
sugar boost.
you and your six-year-old co-conspirator sprawled across the couch, sharing a single pack of gummy bears like it was some kind of sacred ration. one gummy at a time. chewing slowly. blinking at the wall in utter silence like two very small, very deranged owls.
"mama."
"yeah, baby?"
"do you think papa is the strongest man alive?"
"of course."
megumi chews thoughtfully. "do you think he could lift a cow?"
you consider this. "...easily."
"two cows?"
you hesitate. 
-
it’s 11:57 p.m. standing in the doorway, looking like he just crawled out of a damn action movie, is toji. the duffel bag slung over his shoulder drops to the floor with a heavy THUD, and he’s met with—
a beautiful handmade "happy birthday, papa!!" banner, decorated with poorly drawn badtz-maru stickers, because megumi has commitment to the bit.
you, sprawled out on the couch like a crime scene victim.
megumi, passed out on top of you, his little hand still clutching a half-eaten gummy bear.
toji stares. something in his chest tightens. he lets out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him. exhausted as he is, something about this sight makes his heart ache in that weird way—the kind of warmth he’s still getting used to, the kind that makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t screw up as badly as he thought. without a word, he moves over to the couch. and because yes, he is that man—he lifts both you and megumi in one go. you stir slightly, groggy, mumbling, "cow..."
toji frowns. "what?"
megumi snorts in his sleep, muttering, "two cows..."
toji, confused as all hell, just grunts and carries his weird, sleep-deprived family to bed.
the next morning, as the sun peeks through the curtains and the birds chirp outside like they're personally taunting you, you and megumi prepare for phase two of toji’s birthday celebration: chaotic wake-up call.
toji, the strongest man alive (and also the biggest sleeper in the house), is sprawled out on the bed, dead to the world. he sleeps like a log, one arm thrown over his face, mouth slightly open, because even assassins need their beauty rest. you and megumi exchange a look. a silent nod of understanding. then, in perfect sync, you both take in a deep, deep breath and—
"HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
toji’s entire body jerks like he just got shot. his arms flail, his head snaps up, and before he can even process what's happening, you and megumi double down with a second round of high-pitched, ungodly shrieks right in his ear.
"what the hell—"
but before he can even think about grabbing a weapon (because let’s be real, his first instinct is to attack), he realizes exactly who the culprits are. and oh, oh, you two are in trouble. his sleep-deprived brain short-circuits for about half a second before years of combat training kick in.
he lunges.
"oh—RUN!" you shriek, shoving megumi, but it’s too late—toji grabs you both in one swift motion, rolling over and pinning you down, locking both of you in a vice-like headlock.
"GOTCHA!"
"NOOOO—!"
megumi screams in betrayal as toji mercilessly ruffles his hair. you’re not spared either, as he buries his face into your neck, delivering an absolutely brutal barrage of kisses like it’s a full-scale attack.
“YOU WANNA WAKE ME UP, HUH? THAT HOW WE’RE PLAYIN’ THIS?”
"toji stop—" you wheeze, kicking your legs as he plants an exaggeratedly loud kiss to your cheek. megumi shrieks, wiggling with all his might, but toji just grabs him tighter, pressing another series of dramatic, disgusting dad kisses to his forehead. "UGH, PAPAAAA!" megumi yells, offended.
"nah, nah, you started this, kid," toji cackles. "you and your big mouth—what was all that ‘two cows’ shit, huh?”
"STOP!" megumi flails harder, but he is six and toji is built different. eventually, though, he relents, flopping back with a satisfied smirk, letting you both gasp for air like shipwreck survivors. "you’re the worst," you pant. megumi, hair now a disaster, groans. "i hate birthdays."
toji just smirks, stretching. "eh, still my best one yet."
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kaijutegu · 11 hours ago
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Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators
Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!
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(Yes, it's this Coconut.)
And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)
So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.
Body Support
In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!
In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.
Head and Throat Support
In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.
Body Language
Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)
But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.
We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!
One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.
In conclusion:
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Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!
That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.
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piastrisun · 3 days ago
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next in line.
pairings: lando norris + verstappen female reader.
summary: your brother announces his first baby, suddenly everyone’s eyes are on you. the teasing starts as harmless fun, but life has other plans.
faceclaim: lila moss.⠀warning: none.
request: for a smau idea, can you do verstappen!reader that just found out that her brother's gonna be a dad and is just excited maybe a reader x lando? and the grid teases her telling her she's next?
notes: so so happy for max, i’m sure he’s gonna be an amazing dad. and to make clear, i do not support kelly’s actions but i respect her as max’s partner and mother of their kid. also, i’m really sorry this took so long, i didn’t had my laptop :( but i do now!
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others
ynverstappen i’m going to be an aunt, AGAIN!!! congratulations to the best brother in the world and my sister-in-law for blessing us with a tiny human. can’t wait to meet my future favourite little one. 🤍
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username this got me thinking she was expecting as well, the GASP i let out 💀
maxverstappen1 best brother in the world? finally getting the recognition i deserve
username the fact he commented this first, so unserious 😭😭
username1 i was so moved by the caption and now i’m laughing
maxverstappen1 ik houd van je, kleine zus!!! (i love you, little sister)
ynverstappen ik hou altijd van je, you’re going to be an amazing dad!! (i love you too)
username2 FAVES
username3 my most parasocial relationship are them because i feel like they’re my cousins
kellypiquet thank you!! 🥹 baby can’t wait to meet their favourite aunt
ynverstappen stop it i’ll cry
username they’re so sweet with each other
username4 OMG congrats to your family!!! can’t wait to see the cutest baby pics
landonorris i’m next in line to become an uncle
ynverstappen i hope you’re ready for all the babysitting we’ll be doing!!
username5 wait... does this mean lando and yn are next?
username6 imagine the chaos if they had a baby too 😭😭
maxfewtrell chaos? more like pure excellence the world’s not ready
landonorris couldn’t agree more
ynverstappen you’re BANNED from my posts
username7 do you guys think i still have time to reincarnate in that baby?
username8 MOVE, it was my idea first
danielricciardo aunt for now, mum next?
ynverstappen delete this immediately
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YOUR CHATS: MAMMA’S FAVOURITE GROUP.
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ynverstappen added to their story.
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landonorris just say the word babe
ynverstappen STOPPPP
landonorris i meannn, i was already planning our baby names list, but take your time
ynverstappen keep the list, i’m busy trying to decide between napping or rewatch criminal minds
maxverstappen1 we’re just preparing you for the future
ynverstappen future? i was planning on sleeping past 11 AM, thank you very much
ynverstappen but sure, let’s add kids to the list!
victoriaverstappen you’re next! the family is ready for some mini-you
ynverstappen okay that is kinda cute
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YOUR CHATS: TEAM BABY.
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liked by francolapinto, carlossainz55 and others
landonorris four years with my person, my best friend, and the love of my life. here’s to many more!! i love youuuuu
tagged ynverstappen
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lnfour nice number that one
ynverstappen beyond grateful for you every single day, love you more than anything!! <3 ♥︎ liked by author
landonorris love youUuUu
maxfewtrell you two have made it 4 years and not killed each other? impressive
ynverstappen jerk, we’re literally the best couple
username SPEAK UR TRUTH 🗣️
username2 seeing you two together makes me believe in love and what
carlossainz55 yeah, how’s that baby talk going?
ynverstappen can we just enjoy the anniversary without being bombarded about children
landonorris hey!! it’s a valid question
sophiekumpen watching you grow together has been such a joy ♥︎ liked by author
landonorris we couldn’t have done it without all your support 🩶
username3 this is the cutest thing i’ve seen all day
username4 sooo, where’s the baby update?
georgerussell63 you better be sending out wedding invites soon... you know i’ll be waiting ♥︎ liked by author
username5 lando liked this omg
username6 OH IM SO EXCITED
maxverstappen1 maybe we can get the baby a matching anniversary onesie
landonorris don’t tempt me!!
username6 you’re worse than the actual mother 😭😭
alex_albon he is and we appreciate it
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landonorris added to their story.
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maxfewtrell she has that pregnancy glow
landonorris she says: fuck off
maxfewtrell so lovely as always 🥰
charles_leclerc is the shrimp carrying a baby shrimp?
landonorris i don’t think so but stay tuned!
charles_leclerc 🫡
ynverstappen shrimp 😭😭 you’re unbelievable
landonorris you’re MY shrimp, tho
ynverstappen i know i love u
landonorris special shrimp
ynverstappen yes
landonorris mama shrimp
ynverstappen too far babe
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ynverstappen added to their story.
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danielricciardo i’m assuming shrimp is code for ‘future mum’ now?
ynverstappen lando’s been calling me shrimp since FOREVER
danielricciardo for obvious reasons, you kinda look like one
ynverstappen you’re relentless
oscarpiastri you can’t escape forever, you know
ynverstappen i can and i WILL
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ynverstappen we <3 new york
tagged landonorris
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alex_albon this feels like a soft launch for a baby announcement
ynverstappen in WHAT world
alex_albon i don’t know, everyone says new york is romantic
ynverstappen no one has EVER said that
carlossainz55 you two look like you’re scouting locations for a babymoon
ynverstappen STOP GIVING HIM IDEAS
landonorris i do like the sound of that ♥︎ liked by author
ynverstappen no you don’t
username she says that and yet likes all the baby related comments 😭😭
landonorris do you think we’ll get a discount if we book the babymoon now? asking for a friend
ynverstappen i’ll throw you in the ocean
username2 LMAOO he’s not even subtle about it
maxfewtrell baby’s first visit to the empire state? 👶🏻
landonorris give us nine months, mate
username3 savannah slow down
username4 y’all are a little too cute and i love it
username5 REAL like those are my parents
oscarpiastri if you name the baby after me i’ll babysit for free. think about it
landonorris oscar norris-verstappen it is!!!
ynverstappen first of all, my last name would go first
ynverstappen second, you were my favourite, oscar
ynverstappen and i remark WERE
oscarpiastri got it miss
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YOUR CHATS: TEAM BABY.
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liked by danielricciardo, ynverstappen and others
lando.jpg muse
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username he has called her his muse a million times and it gets me every time 🥹
ynverstappen love love love ♥︎ liked by author
lando.jpg 🖤
danielricciardo your family portraits are coming along nicely. just missing one thing…
lando.jpg i’ll admit that would make a good christmas card ♥︎ liked by ynverstappen
username2 u don’t even TRY to be subtle, huh? lmaooo
username3 someone pls tell him he’s not slick 😭😭
username4 you two are the cutest
username5 okay dad in training, we see you!!
username6 they can’t escape baby talk even online i’m CRYING
username7 husband AND dad material, i don’t make the rules ♥︎ liked by author
username8 him liking this he’s NOT real
username9 this man is ready, someone call yn
charles_leclerc dog dad today, human dad tomorrow 👀
ynverstappen tomorrow’s a bit ambitious, but thanks for the timeline
username she’s not saying no—
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©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.
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cherienymphe · 1 day ago
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Jawbreaker
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: Who knew that asking your boyfriend's best friend for help with your sex life would make your boyfriend very angry...
warnings: DUB-CON, slightly toxic relationship, Rafe is mean but what else is new, dumb!reader, bimbo!reader, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 
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Rafe’s groans were loud above you—as they always were—and while his satisfaction made you feel good about yourself and your efforts, the tight grip he had on your hair reminded you of your shame. Truthfully, you didn’t think you had done anything shameful—you were only trying to do something nice for your boyfriend—but as Rafe had stared you down with that deep frown on his face and the slight curl of his upper lip…
You realized very quickly that you had done something very wrong.
Rafe slightly lifted his hips off of his bed, forcing the length of his cock further past your lips. All of the saliva on his length made the intrusion smooth and easy, but it also made you feel a tad gross, but you recalled what Topper had said.
“Blowjobs are…dirty work,” he’d said while rubbing the back of his head. “The messier it is, the better.”
He’d shrugged at you, and despite the way those words made you frown, you believed him. Not only was he a guy, but he was Rafe’s best friend, and so he had to know what he liked. That was what drove you to seek out Topper for help to begin with. That and the fact that Sarah had given you a firm no when you’d initially gone to her. Something about feeling weird giving you sex advice all the while knowing it was going to be used on her brother.
“It never hurts to…spit on it,” the younger blond had advised.
Sex was already wet and sweaty and involved swapping bodily fluids, but something about spit just never…settled with you. With that being said, you took his advice and did just that, pulling your lips off of Rafe’s cock for only a moment to spit on the tip. When Rafe cursed from above you, you knew that you did something right, but it seemed that it clicked for him on how you knew to do that, and he was shoving himself back into your mouth again.
“Did Topper teach you that? Huh?” he sneered from above you, lifting his hips over and over again to drive himself between your swollen lips.
It brought tears to your eyes, not because it hurt, but because it became clear early on that this was just as much a gift for Rafe as it was a punishment for you. The sound of your mouth swallowing him repeatedly was loud in the otherwise quiet room, only accompanied by the blond’s uneven breathing. Your nose almost touched Rafe’s stomach, and you made a noise deep in your throat.
Your boyfriend heard it.
“I should make you gag on it, you know that?” he breathed. “I should break that pretty little jaw.”
His hand guided your head over him, rhythmically bobbing your head over his lap, and when you stole a peek, your tearful gaze met Rafe’s even one. As your eyes met, you felt…torn. Rafe looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. Those blue eyes the most expressive you’ve ever seen them, his pink lips parted, and his dirty blonde hair with a mind of its own. You really, really liked him seeing like this, but…
Those blue eyes weren’t just dripping with desire for his sweet girlfriend. Rafe was also angry—pissed—and although you struggled to grasp why at first, you were slowly beginning to understand. Rafe had a habit of losing his cool if some guy even so much as looked at you the wrong way, but even still, Topper was his best friend and you were his girlfriend. You were two people he trusted the most, and that was why you’d had no hesitation in being honest with him.
“...and what were you doing at Topper’s?” was what he’d asked you less than thirty minutes ago.
When he’d asked you about your day, it had sort of slipped out without you even realizing it, and your lips had parted at the realization you’d ruined the surprise. A frown had formed between your brows, and you’d struggled to come up with a lie, pulling your lip between your teeth.
“He was helping me with something.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it was too vague of an answer for Rafe’s liking, and your boyfriend had stepped closer, his face pinched as he looked between your eyes.
“What was Topper helping you with that I couldn’t help you with?”
Your lips had opened and closed, struggling with what to say to him.
“It’s a surprise,” you’d said to him in a small voice.
You’d given him a small smile, but Rafe hadn’t returned it, and that was the first inkling you felt that something was wrong. Rafe’s house was empty—his entire family out—and he’d moved closer to you, tilting his head.
“...and have you ever known me to like surprises?”
You’d thought about it for a few moments before eventually shaking your head, shoulders sagging a bit.
“No…but you will like this one,” you’d answered, perking up with a smile and gently tugging on his shirt.
Again, Rafe hadn’t returned it, and you’d started to think that he wouldn’t like your surprise, after all, but he was a guy, and Sarah said that all guys loved getting their dicks sucked. Besides, it was among the many things you’d come across on Rafe’s laptop one day, links and videos full of people—women—doing things that you’d never done with him, things he’d never even brought up with you.
While it wasn’t like you thought he’d leave you over whatever you didn’t do for him, it still left a bad taste in your mouth. Sure, Rafe told you all the time that he loved what he loved about you and that he’d kill for you—something that made you a tad uncomfortable actually—but there was something about knowing Rafe desired much more than you were actively giving to him.
Did he not think you’d want to? Or that maybe you weren’t capable?
“Well, where is this surprise that you had to go to my best friend for?” he wondered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Here?” you’d wondered, to which he nodded. “Now?”
Again, Rafe nodded, face stony, and you gave him a soft okay.
It was clear that he hadn’t been expecting you to kiss him, gently pressing your lips to his before parting them. As you coaxed his tongue out of his mouth, you reached for his folded arms, slowly pulling them apart before letting your hands drift to the waistband of his pants. At that, Rafe stopped you, and you pulled back slightly with a frown.
You were in the kitchen, but it wouldn’t be the first time you and Rafe did stuff in some place other than a bedroom, so you didn’t think that was why he stopped you. You found out that you were right.
When your eyes met Rafe’s, he was frowning at you with a different kind of frown now, and he slowly looked between your eyes as he studied your face. Excitement buzzed through your body as he just looked at you, but when his hands tightened on your wrists, your brow twitched, and you blinked.
“I don’t care about the surprise anymore—fuck the surprise, actually. What exactly did you and Topper do this afternoon?”
His tone and his voice had you shrinking in on yourself, and this was the moment that you realized Rafe was mad. Your lips parted as he stared down his nose at you, and when his hold grew tighter, you winced.
“I… I wanted to learn how to give you a good blowjob.”
It was the first time you were sure you’d ever seen Rafe just…freeze. The kitchen grew completely silent, and the air between you felt oddly off. Your boyfriend just stared at you for what felt like a long time, and for a moment, you started to wonder if he’d even heard you. Like you, he started to open and close his mouth a few times before eventually deciding on just snapping it shut. You watched Rafe’s jaw clench, and when he swiped his tongue between his lips, his chest was brushing yours.
“Topper…taught you…how to give a good blowjob.”
He said the words slowly, and you nodded in confirmation of the statement.
“I know that’s what you like, and-.”
“So, you gave Topper a blowjob?”
“No!”
The word came out so loud that it startled you, but Rafe’s question had startled you even more. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, and as his own words hung in the air, you realized the cause for his sour mood. The thought actually made you chuckle, because Topper had been terrified of the same thing when you first went to him.
“We didn’t do anything that you and I would do,” you sweetly told him. “He just told me and showed me what to do.”
It was practically the same words you’d said to Topper when he also misunderstood you, but oddly enough, it hadn’t seemed to calm him down. He’d still been jittery and nervous, forcing you to basically beg him for his help. Even weirder, the clarification didn’t seem to calm Rafe down either, and you watched him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek.
His gaze briefly landed on the ceiling as he nodded.
“He just…told you and showed you what to do,” Rafe repeated, and you’d been dating him long enough to notice certain patterns with his tone.
You felt yourself shrinking a bit—deflating—and tears had kissed your eyes.
“I feel like you’re mad.”
Rafe had let out a laugh, but you struggled to find the humor in the situation. When your boyfriend looked at you again, he was stepping towards you, forcing you back. He was shaking his head at you—in that way that didn’t make you feel good—and you were suddenly reminded of the times when he wasn’t so nice to you and even made you cry.
“I know…I know that it takes you a little bit longer than everyone else to catch up sometimes,” he whispered, letting your hand go to gently take your chin between his fingers. “I know that.”
You struggled to piece together what he meant by that, and when you finally did, he was already insulting you again.
“...but you went to another man to help you learn how to go down, and you’re wondering if I’m mad?”
Rafe just stared at you, brows raised, and you slowly realized that he was expecting you to say something. With the knowledge that he initially thought you cheated on him, you were starting to see how Rafe might not see this from your eyes. Both Sarah and Rafe had repeatedly told you that everyone didn’t think like you did, but you hadn’t cheated on Rafe, so you were really struggling to understand his anger, right now.
You’d done it for him.
“I just wanted to make you happy,” you’d whispered.
At those words, you watched as Rafe’s eyes glazed over, and he stared you down with a look you couldn’t place. You watched the corner of his lips curve upwards ever so slightly, and when he let you go, the blood rushed through your arm again. Your boyfriend took a step back before raising his arm in a gesture towards the stairs.
“Well, let’s go…”
You’d straightened at the shift in his demeanor.
“Show me what he taught you, and make me happy.”
That was how you found yourself on your knees with Rafe’s cock in your mouth, and his hand on your head. He was rough, but you’d expected it because Rafe often was. However, you also accepted that there was an added layer to that because he was pissed off. You’d genuinely gone to Topper for help and to do something for your boyfriend in return for all he’d done for you.
Yes, Rafe could be mean sometimes, but he always told you he was sorry and made up for it by putting a gift in your hand. He wasn’t perfect, no, but neither were you. You knew how imperfect you were, how frustrating you could be—something your parents had never failed to be honest with you about—and so you didn’t expect from him what even you yourself didn’t live up to.
Besides, Rafe was always looking out for you—at parties, at the mall, and even in your own home when you had another near miss. He was always buying you any dress you wanted, and he was more sweet than he was mean. At least, you thought so. He often ran you baths and detangled your hair and helped you pick out what blush or lipgloss to put on. He enjoyed dressing you up, and you enjoyed letting him.
Your life just seemed to flow so much easier and smoother since you started dating Rafe.
…and you’d always known you weren’t the brightest person in the room, so whenever Rafe expressed his frustration with that, you tried not to let it get to you. This time was different though. This time you’d gone out of your way to try and do something nice for him, to try and be a better girlfriend to make him happy…and he wasn’t happy.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafe snapped when you pulled away, letting him fall out of your mouth.
He sat up and looked down at you as you knelt on the floor, arms crossed over your chest. With one look into your eyes, your boyfriend huffed, and you bit your lip in an attempt to keep it from trembling.
“You’re being mean,” you tearfully told him.
“No shit,” he bit out, reaching for you, but you reared back.
“I just wanted to do something nice for you!”
“By going to my best friend and asking him to teach you how to suck my dick, are you crazy?”
“How else was I supposed to surprise you, Rafe? Was I supposed to take notes from all of those videos on your computer?”
A silence descended over you, and you avoided his gaze. You could feel him staring at you, and you continued to look at the wall behind him.
“Is that what this is about?” he eventually sighed.
“You like it, otherwise you wouldn’t watch it. Any of it…”
A blowjob seemed the easiest barrier to cross, but you had worried yourself a bit on how you’d ever hype yourself up into doing any of that other stuff. You’d told yourself one step at a time, but who knew that what you thought would be the easiest would cause all of this. You angrily wiped away a stray tear.
“Come here…come here,” Rafe repeated himself when you didn’t budge, reaching for you and pulling you between his knees again.
He took your face into his hands and forced you to look at him. Rafe didn’t look as angry, now, eyes softer, and he brushed his thumb along your mouth.
“If I wanted to do everything I watched then we’d be in trouble.”
He chuckled to himself, but you didn’t laugh.
“Then why watch it?” you whispered, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.
“It’s like putting on a football game.”
“Rafe, I saw some woman getting fucked by three men at once. No way you’re comparing that to football…”
“I’m just saying…” he started, leaning in and kissing you. “It’s not a big deal and especially not enough to where you need to go running to Topper for help on our sex life.”
His hand found it’s way to your throat.
“You want to know how to make me happy then you come to me,” he lowly said against your lips. “That’ll make me happier than any surprise, you understand?”
You nodded at that, and his hand moved to your hair again as he leaned back.
“Now spit on it, baby, just like you did before.”
You did, and soon after, Rafe was in your mouth again.
His hips wouldn’t stay still as you sucked in your cheeks around him, a sound leaving your boyfriend that you were sure you’d never even heard before. The groans that left him were animalistic, and you were shocked by how much it turned you on. You didn’t think that focusing on pleasuring Rafe would be so exciting, but it filled you with something that made you feel proud.
“Use your hand,” you heard him breathe.
You recalled Topper mentioning that, and you brought your hand up to wrap around what your lips couldn’t. Rafe lifted his hips again, one hand on your hair and the other on your wrist. When he softly told you to bring up your other hand, you didn’t quite understand why until he took it and placed it under his shaft. You played with him there, and Rafe’s satisfied moan reached your ears.
You bobbed your head over him for a while, taking in the taste of him and every sound he made. He sucked air through his teeth when you flattened your tongue against his cock, dragging it along him as you continued to suck him. All the while, you progressively grew wetter and wetter, enough to almost make you feel embarrassed. When Rafe started to sit up—albeit with difficulty—confusion filled you. It only grew when he pulled you off of him, completely standing now.
He looked down at you and you looked up at him as he rested his hands on the sides of your head.
“Open your mouth for me,” he purred. “Keep it open just like that.”
On instinct, you reached out to grip the back of his thighs as he began to thrust himself into your mouth. Something about it turned you on even more, and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was the look in his eyes? You could certainly see them better from this angle, and the blue of them looked so much darker to you as Rafe watched his cock disappear into your mouth.
Maybe it was the way you could see his chest heaving, quickly rising and falling as he struggled to breathe from how you were making him feel. His button down was open, and your eyes took in the slight glisten on his chest from the sweat. Your eyes traced his skin in the low light and then eventually his hair and how it hung along his forehead, kissing the skin there.
Or maybe…just maybe…you liked the feeling of Rafe using you.
You were completely still as he fucked your mouth, keeping your lips parted and your tongue flat for him. You liked being on your knees and letting Rafe use you as a means to an end, letting him use you to chase his high that would no doubt end in him spilling himself down your throat. You could tell that Rafe liked it too, your boyfriend not taking his eyes off of you once.
The choked gasps and groans from his mouth got louder and louder, and even if he wasn’t holding your head in place, you were sure you would’ve still remained there to let him come in your mouth, ropes of warmth hitting the back of your throat and tongue as he continued to fuck your mouth through his orgasm.
Rafe stroked your cheeks as he came, his breathing slowly becoming even again, and when he moved your head, you slid your lips along his cock one last time, tongue sliding against his length and swallowing anything left behind.
“Good girl,” you heard him murmur from above you.
When Rafe bent down to kiss you, you lifted yourself a bit to help him, smiling against his lips. His hand twisted into the hair at the nape of your neck, and you moaned into the kiss.
“You were just trying to be a good girlfriend, huh,” he whispered into your mouth.
You frantically nodded at that, happy that he wasn’t mad at you anymore.
“I guess I can’t fault you for that,” he hummed. “...but I’m still going to have to kick Topper’s ass.”
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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
Text
Valentine’s Plans
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Rafe had been patient. Too patient. He knew exactly why you’d been acting like this, short replies, annoyed sighs, that little scoff whenever he so much as touched you. Valentine’s Day was in a few days, and he hadn’t asked you to be his Valentine yet.
He had a plan. A good one. But you didn’t know that.
So when he walked past the other Kooks and overheard you saying, “He’s such a pussy. I swear, if he doesn’t ask me, I’m done.”—Rafe saw red.
He bit his tongue, shoving his hands into his pockets. He wanted to call you out right then and there, but he wouldn’t. He’d make sure you felt stupid for ever doubting him.
Dinner was at the nicest restaurant on the island. Private booth, dim lighting, a box waiting on the table before you even sat down. A Vivienne Westwood necklace, because he knew you liked that shit. The cake came out after, white frosting with Be My Valentine? scrawled in red.
Rafe leaned back, watching you take it all in. Now he could be smug.
“Still think I’m a pussy?” he asked.
Your face burned, but you rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”
“That’s what I thought.” He smirked, nudging the box toward you. “Say yes, or I’m taking that back.”
You huffed but reached for the necklace, letting your fingers run over the silver chain. “Obviously, yes.”
He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. “Good girl.”
You thought everything was fine until you got home.
The second you stepped inside, Rafe kicked the door shut behind you, gripping your jaw to tilt your face up.
“Gonna talk shit about me to my friends again?” he murmured, voice low.
You swallowed, pulse spiking. “Rafe—”
He smirked. “No, go ahead. Tell me more about how I’m a pussy.”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
That night, you learned never to doubt Rafe Cameron. He made sure of it.
You were beneath him, writhing, your body burning under his touch as his thick cock fucked you deeper into the sheets. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice low and taunting.
“What was it you said?” he murmured, dragging his lips along your jaw, making you shiver. “I’m a pussy, huh?”
You whimpered, your fingers twisting in the fabric beneath you as you felt him pound into your sweet spot. “Rafe—”
His teeth scraped against your skin as he chuckled darkly. “No, no, sweetheart. Say it again.”
You shook your head, your body arching against him. “I didn’t mean it.”
He tsked, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you roughly onto his cock. “Didn’t mean it?” His voice was mocking, teasing. “You sounded pretty fucking sure earlier.”
You whimpered as rolled his hips to meet yours, his hands gripping your body like he owned it. He did.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured. His lips brushed your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You talk a lot of shit, but look at you now—squirming, whining, completely at my mercy.”
You gasped, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he fucked you even harder.
He smirked against your skin. “Bet you won’t doubt me again, huh?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, sir.”
“Good fucking girl,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbone. “Now, let this be a reminder of who you belong to.”
A hand remained on your hip, gripping you while another went into your hair, pulling your head down to watch as his cock disappeared inside you. He wasn’t going easy, he was fucking the doubt right out of you.
“You wanna fucking doubt me? Huh? Call me a pussy? You can’t even fucking talk. Fucked you dumb, who’s the pussy now?”
You cried out in pain and pleasure, his thrusts unrelenting and hard.
For a moment you thought the lesson was over but you thought wrong. He flipped you onto your stomach, slapping your ass making you wince and pulling it up to him.
He wasted no time burying himself to the hilt inside your wet pussy, the new position making him feel like he was deeper. You cried out, reaching around to put your hand on his chest but he just grabbed it.
He chuckled darkly, pinning your hand behind your back. “Take this fucking dick, you’re gonna learn your fucking lesson tonight.”
He fucked you like he hated you, cock dragging along your walls, stretching you so much you thought he would tear you apart. You could feel him so deep, the tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. All you could do was bury your face into the sheets and moan, unable to form a single coherent word or thought.
“This is exactly how you should be all the time. Fucked out and keeping your mouth fucking shut,” he growled.
He grabbed you by the neck so you were arching off him.
“Do what I say for once and rub that clit so you can cum on my dick. You don’t fucking deserve it but I’m such a good boyfriend, I’ll let you cum.”
Your body jolted in his arms as you rubbed your clit and he gripped your neck even tighter. “Fuck, cum on my cock. Cum on my cock so I can fill this ungrateful pussy up.”
With a loud cry, your body went limp in his arms. Your walls clamped around him, squirting on his dick and your orgasm triggered his own. He moaned in your ear, his load filling you to the brim and your pussy milking him of every drop.
“Good fucking girl. Now you’ll know never to doubt me or call me a fucking pussy again.”
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