#and they kind of just 'leak' everywhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wild-jackalope · 9 months ago

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NSFW links

Including :: Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Toge, Yuta.

warning :: everything sex.

note :: can you guess who my favs are? All characters are of age.

Satoru Gojo

how he moans — He’s so damn cocky and breathy. Gasping whenever you brush over his sensitive spots, deep chuckling at every cute face you make. You couldn’t make him shut up even if you wanted to, he’s always going to be in your ear telling your what a good girl you are and letting you hear just how amazing your pussy feels.

he just won’t latch off your tit — when you’re riding him he has perfect access to your beautiful tits, how could you expect him not to suck them? He knows you love it when he can feel your cunt flutter around his cock.

he can barely control himself when you first have sex — he’s been waiting so long to have you like this, sitting naked on top of him. He might usually be smooth but now all he can think about is making sure he gives you a good fuck.

vanilla — sometimes vanilla sex is the best kind. He just loves the sight of you riding him with he idly play with your tits. So what if he wants it all the time?

videos — Satoru knows how flushed your get when he sends you videos of him jerking off and moaning your name. He’s away all the time, so he knows it’s the best reminder that he’s coming back to fuck you soon.

joining the mile high club — you’ve fucked almost everywhere. Almost. A plane now happens to fall upon that list.

Choso Kamo

how he moans — chanting please and curses. He’s a sensitive man, so they come out easily when you fuck him. Even when he’s the one on top, driving his cock deep into your soaking chasm, he still moans sweetly. He just loves you so, so much and you make him feel so fucking good. He can’t deny you the sound of his pleasure even if he wanted to.

treating him well — he goes so red in the face when you kiss him while palming his dick. Each time your lips reach his neck he shivers, so happy to have someone treat him so well it’s almost euphoric. Of course he’s stuttering “W-What about you?” Just make out with him until he sees stars.

foreplay — feeling your naked body against his, having his hands slide through your hair and lips move fluidly against yours makes him yearn for you in ways he didn’t know was possible, sure he was already hard the moment you touched him but now he’s aching and twitching for you, leaking pre cum.

he’s so big, but you take him — Choso is always slow, making sure you adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. He kisses your cheek and neck, mumbling praises. ‘You’re too big, Cho.’ You grunt, holding onto his arm. He shakes his head, disagreeing. ‘You’re the perfect size for me, my love, you take me in so perfectly. So well.’

Kento Nanami

how he moans — so lazy and deep. He just can’t stop praising you, loves to tell you how perfect you are between aimless grunts and breathy exhales. He’s a composed man, always aware of how good he’s making you feel so he’s never too lost in his own pleasure to moan so loudly, he’s quiet (unless you’re sucking him till he cums down your throat, then you’ll hear the best of his grunts).

he knows exactly how to get you crying for him — He might never openly admit it, but Kento is obsessed with your meek little moans and he knows playing with your pussy is the best way to squeeze them out of you.

perfect house wife — domestic life makes his heart truely happy, so when he comes home to you wearing nothing but an apron it makes his dick happy too. He just has to touch you and tell you you’re the perfect wife.

playing with you in front of a mirror — he enjoys seeing you quiver and your face scrunch up when he toys with your pussy, in front of a mirror means he can see it all perfectly.

Toji Fushiguro

how he moans — you have to be doing one hell of a good job to get this man to shut his mouth and moan for you. He’s a dirty talker, not a moany little sub. Still, his grunts are quiet and gruff. He’s most loudest when he slides into your gummy pussy for the first time and when he cums inside you.

favourite position — he just loves to pull you onto his cock. After a while, your legs begin to shake so he has to hold you upright and that’s how he knows you’re about to cum. Missionary comes in close second, just because he loves to feel you claw his back.

hate sex — you’re both pissed at each other, so what better way to rid yourself of your anger than to fuck it out? Straddle him, don’t give him the chance to top you, slap and ride him till he cums. Then maybe he’ll learn to respect you more.

when he tells you to ride his face, he means ride it — his lazy ass still wants you to do all the work, rolling your hips against his stunted tongue. He’s grinning, loving the moans you work out of yourself.

the only time he begged for it — you had been sending him some pretty saucy picture whilst he was away. It had been weeks since the two of you fucked and he wanted to see more of you’re perfect body. ‘I want to hear you beg’ you sent, then received a video from him.

Sukuna

how he moans — deep, deep moaning. The type of moan that hides a growl in the back of his throat as it rumbles against your chest. There are times he can get a little breathy, but he’s confident and never loses his cool. He mostly talks you through sex, so you’ll mainly hear grunts between his filthy dirty talk. Sometimes you swear you can hear a bit of Yuji coming through when he moans.

learn to shut your mouth while he fucks you — he calls you brat for a reason, because you love to talk back. When his hand wraps around your throat, you only have room to gasp for breath which is how he prefers you.

gently touching you after sex — post-sex is often when Sukuna is the sweetest. He admires your body, gently grazing his sharp nails over your skin and watching you retract at the tickling touch.

messy sex — there have been times where Sukuna burns for you, needing you in every possible way. He needs your scent, your skin, your hair, your body, your voice. He craves you, leading to a rough and messy quickie that’ll leave you utterly raw.

he has no patience — sure, he might like the idea of watching your fuck yourself on his cock, but in practice you’re much too slow. He needs to fuck you at his own pace, not let you work yourself off agonisingly slow.

keep quiet, brat — you need to learn to control your voice, but no matter how many times he tells you off you just keep hollering his name. So he decides to smack his hand over your mouth to cover up the noise.

even when you’re on top, you’re still a bottom — you were so excited when Sukuna agreed to let you top him. Although you were suspicious that he grunted a ‘yes’ so quickly, you didn’t read too much into it. Only when he had your hands bound behind your back, fucking up into your cervix did you understand he would never let you dominate him.

Yuji Itadori

how he moans — loud and messy. Once Yuji feels your cunt sucking him in the rest of the world disappears. All he can babble out are swears and compliments on how hot you are, how good you make him feel, how much he loves you. If the sex is softer (which is hardly the case), he can maintain composure a little better. He still grunts and swears, but at least the neighbours won’t hear.

favourite position — the way your ass collides with his hips and the defined arch of your back is like a work of fucking art. The sound of your moans muffling into his pillow is something he thinks about all the time. He just hates that he can’t see your perfect face, so please look back at him while he fucks you.

He waited all day to fuck you — you had been riling him up since the early morning; grazing your hand over his thigh and crotch, texting him lewd things, whispering sweet things in his ear. The moment you two got home he cornered you from behind, pressing lustful kisses to your neck and stripping you of your clothes until you both were naked and he had laid you over him.

cant get enough of your butt — he just loves your curves, flat or fat he admires you either way. Planting sweet kisses and mumbling how you were ‘built to make him hard’, whatever that means. He just runs his mouth when it comes to your body.

loves seeing you have fun riding him — the way you playfully hold his hand while you grind into his hips, or the way you break into a laugh when he grabs for your boobs, he just loves to see you have fun, especially on his dick.

no condom? — he’s always forgetting to buy condoms, you guys fuck like bunnies, how is he supposed to remember how many you two use up? You refuse to have a pregnancy scare, so you’ll just fuck him over layers of clothes.

Megumi Fushiguro

how he moans — Megumi starts off pretty balanced, but when things start to get intense he fluctuates between high and whiny to low and gravely (he’s especially embarrassed about moaning so high, so he tries to hold it back). He also doesn’t particularly enjoy being vocal, but a few physical and verbal prompts from you will get him in your ear.

you asked so nicely — he tells you he’s close and that he’s gonna cum, and how could he resist the urge to fill you up when you ask him so kindly to cum inside you? He’s surprised, but when you beg again he knows he can’t deny your sweet request.

nervous to touch you — he isn’t used to much physical affection, but he wants to touch you so badly. He loves to hear your gasps when his hands start to wander, so despite not being exactly sure what to do he’s eager to learn and memories the feeling of your body.

so kind to your cunt — the way he drags his tongue across your wet lips, making his saliva mix with your slick and creating a sloshy noise each time he repeats the motion. His narrow eyes gaze up at you, watching you throw your head back before closing and letting his sense of taste take over.

fucking you slowly — he’s never ruthless, especially when you want him to be. He moves his hips at his own pace, playing with your clit and enjoying the way you squirm for more.

Toge Inumaki

how he moans — He makes up for the lack of talking by grunting deliciously each time you make him feel good. The louder he is, the better you’re doing and the closer he is to cumming. Even when the focus is on you he’s still making noise, grunting each time you grind against his tongue, or tighten around his fingers.

sucking you sweetly — it’s pretty clear Toge has an oral fixation by the way he sucks your neck, your pussy and especially your tits. He especially loves your boobs, so they get special treatment.

pause your game — ‘I’m busy’ you say, that is until he’s parted your legs, hot breath patting your clothes sex. You try to keep playing, just to tease him further but his mouth feels so good that you can’t help moan and watch him eat you out. You’ll finish the level another day.

payback — you come over to spend time with him, only to be met with the back of his gaming chair. You’ll just have to give him the same treatment he gave you when you were too busy for him.

helping hand — leaning against his naked chest, going weak against him as he rubs your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers inside your pussy.

Yuta Okkotsu

how he moans — loud, weak moans. He’s so sensitive, he can’t help but whine in your ear as you fuck him. It’s not like he’s embarrassed either, Yuta loves to lose himself in your pussy and let you know how good it feels. You tell him he deserves to feel this good and it makes him sob pathetically.

shivering underneath your grip — he’s just too sensitive, you might go slowly for him just so he can relax but your skin is so soft, you’re gripping him so firmly and your breath hits his cheek. It’s all too overwhelming that he can’t help but tremble.

next best thing — you weren’t planning to end up fucking Yuta, but the two of you had gotten so heated whilst kissing. Neither of you had brought any condoms, so you decided to give him the next best thing and grind your pussy onto his cock whilst he moaned your name.

you fit perfectly on top of him — nothing else can compare to your lips moving like honey against his whilst his cock sits safe and warm in your pussy.

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thebibliosphere · 2 months ago

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Whenever I post about house stuff there’s always some well meaning people and the occasional vindictive shit head who thinks we didn’t have our home inspected before we bought it.

We did. It passed the private inspection we paid for in order to get our mortgage and two inspections done by the city.

The problem with my house is that it was owned by a landlord who did all kinds of illegal and sketchy shit to maximize capacity and resale value but also would require you to take down walls to find. And for those of you unaware, they don’t let you walk around with a saw and cut holes to inspect behind the drywall.

The shithead hid things behind fake walls. Literally. He put a bunch of chemicals and paints into a crawl space then drywalled over it. There is drywall on top of drywall (or there was before we took it down). He put carpet over the asbestos tiles—which is technically fine. It’s safer to seal asbestos away than remove it… except he also covered the drain for the house so the basement floods and then the carpet rots and in turn starts breaking down the asbestos tiles, making them into a hazard. He built the basement himself so that the drywall was sitting on the concrete slab—something we couldn’t see without removing the trim—causing them to wick moisture from the floor and rot until we had black mold everywhere.

The electric parts that were visible were all up to code, but again, anything that could be hidden was done so, hiding shit like a dishwasher that had been hot wired into the wall through a light plate fixture under the sink. Or the 240v socket that used to power an electric stove which had been pulled through the floorboard to power the tumble dryer. (Or the gas stove that we swapped for electric because it kept trying to kill us and then we realized he’d run a gas pipe from the water heater to power it. The plumber swore a lot about that one when he finally realized that one.)

Plumbing all looked good until you realized some of the new pipes were just pvc cut to go around the old lead pipes. Something you couldn’t see unless you got up close and personal during the inspection, and we’re talking up on a ladder jiggling the pipes around which is also generally something don’t let you do. Not to the extent we would have needed to.

The man was unhinged. And there’s very little we can do about it because we signed an “as is” thing on our mortgage thinking most of the repairs we’d need to do would be minor. Only to find out the house which looked fairly modern and well kept on the surface was actually a fucking Saw trap. And now because of all the shit we’ve uncovered, we have to fix it before we can sell it because no one in their right mind will buy a house with declared asbestos—even predatory developers hesitate on that one.

So if we’ve got to fix this place up, we’ll fix it up for us because god knows, even if we managed to sell this place, we can’t afford the mortgage rates right now. (And while yes, apartments are an option, they make my MCAS a lot less stable because you can’t control the shit your neighbors use, nevermind things like a shared laundry facility where everyone wants to smell like “a spring summer breeze” that to me smells like death by fragrance induced anaphylaxis.)

So yes, we’re stuck with this place. For now. A place we had inspected multiple times and were still let down by the reality that people hide things and will do so in the most imaginative ways possible if it means they can make a profit.

The furnace dying the instant we moved in wasn’t a good sign, but shit happens. That’s home ownership. The gas leaks we had last week? Also home ownership. It had passed yearly inspections up until now. Appliances break down and require maintenance, especially gas ones. In an ideal world we would have gotten another five years out of the furnace, but alas, it chose death so we had to yeet it.

So, yeah, if you’re the shithead currently going off in my inbox about “stupid people winning stupid prizes” I’ll take that apology now.

#the house that Cthulhu built

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riddleswhcre · 17 days ago

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────۶ৎ teachers pet

you’re his favourite student. smart-mouthed. always pushing. tonight? he stops pretending.

warnings: smut, professor/student, age gap, degradation/praise, spitting, cumplay, overstimulation, choking, desk sex, dumbification, creampie.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: joel in those lil glasses had me foaming. blame him not me.

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you’re late to his office hours again.

he doesn’t even look up when you walk in, just mutters, “lock the damn door, sweetheart.”

you obey. course you do. always do when it’s him, when his voice dips like that, all low and slow like syrup in august.

he finally looks up over the rim of his glasses—those thin gold ones that shouldn’t be hot but somehow are, especially when he’s got that half-scowl on like he’s been thinkin’ about this all day.

“you been wearin’ this little skirt all day?” he asks, nodding toward your outfit. “or just for me?”

“depends,” you say, smirking. “you gonna do something about it this time?”

joel doesn’t answer. just gets up slow, chair creaking, door clicking behind you. he’s in front of you in two strides, hand coming up to grip your jaw tight, thumb pressing hard into your cheek.

“mouthy little thing,” he mutters, thumb pushing past your lips. “you talk like you got any idea what you’re beggin’ for.”

you moan around his thumb, thighs clenching.

his other hand slips beneath your skirt like he owns the right. like he’s done it before. and when he finds you bare, already wet, he growls, “fuckin’ knew it. no panties, huh? dirty girl.”

“just for you, sir.”

his eyes flash, dark and hungry.

he drags you over to the desk like it’s nothing. bends you over hard, your books falling off the edge. one hand holds your back down while the other spreads you open—and then he spits on your pussy, slick and hot.

“gonna ruin you,” he mutters. “been waitin’ to split this little pussy open since you walked into my lecture runnin’ that smart fuckin’ mouth.”

you sob when he pushes in without warning. just the tip, and you already feel too full. joel’s big. thick. mean with it. the kind of cock that breaks you open and stays deep. you’d dreamt about this. fantasised about how he’d ruin you.

he sinks in slow just to hear you whimper, then pulls out and slams all the way to the hilt.

“take it,” he snarls. “take it like the good little slut you are.”

his hips slap yours, pace brutal. your thighs shake. his name’s falling from your lips like prayer and porn all at once.

“you cum yet?” he pants.

“no, sir—”

“good.”

his fingers move down, rough and fast over your clit. “you don’t get to cum ‘til i say so. not after actin’ like a lil brat all week.”

you nod, desperate, drooling on the desk.

and then he laughs. low and mean.

“you’re drippin’, baby. fuckin’ mess. must like bein’ used.”

“i do, joel—sir—please—”

he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you back against his chest, still buried in you. growls right in your ear, “gonna fill this cunt. you’re gonna take it, feel it drippin’ out all day tomorrow when you walk round campus pretendin’ you’re innocent.”

“yes, please—need it, need it—”

you cum first. you break first. of course you do. he makes sure of it, fingers fast, cock deep, voice in your ear like a goddamn curse.

he doesn’t stop. just fucks you through it, holds you steady while your legs give out.

then, finally, he growls and fills you up. warm. thick. messy.

he keeps his cock in you while you shake, while his cum leaks out around him.

“look at that,” he pants, pulling out slow. watching it drip. “filled my lil pet up nice, huh?”

you’re shaking, legs slick, cum everywhere. and still—he’s hard again.

he grabs your hair.

“get on your knees. we ain’t done.”

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

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ditzydoe444 · 1 month ago

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MDNI 18+

perv! jason todd would sneak into your bedroom when you left the window open, heading straight to the laundry to grab a pair of your dirty panties. it first started off as an innocent obsession, no one ever paid attention to him, living in the shadows until a sweet thing like you smiled at him, going up to his house every week to hand him a tray of your homemade cookies. slowly, he started to pay attention to every little thing you did, slowly that turned into obsession. he thought of you non stop, locking himself at his workplace’s bathroom to jerk off to your panties that he bought everywhere. “fuck,” he hissed as his large calloused hand rubbed his cock desperately, the soft material of your cotton panties swirling around his sensitive leaking tip.

sometimes he would stalk you in your garden, wearing the tiniest shorts and a flimsy tank with no bra as you watered the vegetables. occasionally, he would take photos of you, some of you bent over, your cheeks out or others just simply because you looked nice. though usually he would end up jerking to those photos, his kind clouded with the thought of your soft body in his, bouncing on his cock. so when he saw you with a pretty pink vibrator shoved up your small cunt, he couldn’t help himself. his hand snaking down to his boxers, his cock heavy in his hands as he slowly stroked to match your pace. the sweet soft sounds that left your lips was engraved in his head, wishing that he was the reason for them. slowly as you came so did he, his hot sticky come spilling onto his hand.

#jason todd #ch: jason #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc smut #dc jason todd #dc jason todd smut

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bluukive · 18 days ago

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!MDNI: JJK men as Omegas

an - I find this so funny. Warning for explicit detail no one needed or asked for

ᡣ𐭩 G. Satoru

WHINY. Normally, Satoru's so playful. It's in his stupid omega nature. But once his heats kick in, he's rolling around like a rotisserie chicken with his back arched, moaning your name so obnoxiously. He's adamant on getting his scent EVERYWHERE. If he has to feel so ridiculously aroused, then so do you.

As for his scent, it's rather subtle outside of his heats. But during them? It's sickeningly sweet like vanilla and clogs up your nostrils, kind of like how the air does before a storm. Your tongue feels heavy to the point where you can taste it.

Okay, so his slick... silky, clear and also very sweet. He's constantly leaking to the point where if you pull his boxers down, there's glossy strands connecting his twitching thighs together. It tingles when it somehow ends up in your mouth ('somehow' - you ate him out whilst simultaneously jẹrking him off whilst he was on all fours). Poor guy physically can't stop himself from leaking all the time.

CRIES. Especially when he cụms. Every inch of him feels as if it's on fire as he rolls his hips against whatever's nearest to him. Doesn't matter to him if you're an alpha or not. He needs to be in something or have something in him. Both at the same time, even.

Nipplẹs are incredibly sensitive. If you aren't sucking on them, then he's rolling them around between his slender fingers, trying to get as much stimulation as possible. He wants your hands on him at all times and gets very needy. He doesn't want anyone else to touch him but you.

Plugs lol. Wants to feel himself stretch around something, especially if you can't provide him a knot. He likes feeling feel full, and will happily plug himself whilst emptying himself into you.

ᡣ𐭩 G. Suguru

A surprising one. Very vocal during his heats and will let your name roll of his tongue like a prayer. Suguru's extremely feline-like with that purring voice of his, which does crack when the spikes of arousal hit him repeatedly.

Slightly mąsochistic, wants you to edge him repeatedly until his slick pools beneath his ąss and his cọck is drooling with pre. He thinks that the orgasm is better that way when he's forced into being good for you.

Slick, hmm... Slightly thicker than Satoru's and warm. Tastes like his scent (honey) and takes longer to leak out of him. His heat doesn't feel as frantic, and his slick is representative of that. It's kind of sticky when you taste him, but probably makes for a good lipgloss...? Idk I'm just being silly

He gets all antsy when you get too gentle with him. Suguru will let you know if you want it that way, but usually? He wants to be covered with evidence that he's been thoroughly pleasured. That includes hịckies, hand prints, the whole lot.

His scent gets progressively sweeter the more you turn him on. It's not as heavy as Satoru's, and one might consider trying to bottle up his slick to turn into candles (I read this on wattpad once when I was too young and it stuck with me)

ᡣ𐭩 N. Kento

Fake nonchalant final boss. Nanami tries to act like this is another day for him, but the scent of spices become more prominent when you're in close proximity. Once you touch him, he's a goner. He's nuzzling his face deep into your palm, which is cute enough, but he's already tensed up and grimacing at the way his ąss is getting ready for you.

His slick also tingles a tad and is slightly more watery than everyone else's. It's the tiniest bit bitter, sort of how if you lick perfume/cologne DIRECTLY off of someone's neck. It's so, so him. That being said, Nanami hates leaking because of the sensory implications his slick brings him.

He gets so handsy and desperate for the feel of your lips on his since it brings him back down to Earth. Nanami is quiet throughout it all, almost ashamed of how much he needs you. He becomes reliant on your reassurances and holds your hand if he wants to be fụcked.

BRẸEDING. Wants to be THOROUGHLY bred. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to ask, but at least both of you are incredibly in tune with each other. His ąss will clench repeatedly around you when he's at the bottom (but then he stops because the slick so filthily squelches when he does that, and he gets shy)

ᡣ𐭩 S. Ryomen

Bites, growls, snarls. Sukuna is completely feral, even as an omega. He's into marking you more than he's into being marked, but he does like being clawed at. It just makes the slick leak out of him even more in hot, weighted oozes.

His slick...It feels both solid and the same time somehow, and the smell hits your nose with a tangy note. You'd rather not have it in your mouth since the taste lingers long after his heats are done (which are longer than the average omega). If you won't try it, Sukuna will. I don't know why but I feel like he would.

Destroys the whole bedroom. Nothing is left of the sheets and it's quite comical how he lounges around with an arm behind his head. As if the middle of the bed isn't sinking because of the intensity of how he broke the mattress.

Hates being teased. You're not edging him, you're not licking his cock, and you're definitely not wasting time on fingering his ąss either. He's wet and loose enough to take whatever you're able to give him (personally, I find that outrageous).

ᡣ𐭩 T. Fushiguro

Feral pt. 2. He thinks he's so big and bad pinning you down like that, but Toji's begging for some sort of touch. He cries tears that he tries to wipe away, but you notice anyway (even if he hides them under a growl).

Toji is unashamed of how he drips all over. He takes pride in it, knowing that it doesn't diminish his masculinity in the slightest. His slick is syrupy and incredibly potent, the thick ropes clinging to his ąss and thighs much like Satoru. It gets everywhere.

The scent of his slick (and him in general) is incredibly musky and earthy. There's a smokey undertone to it accompanied by the taste of caramel. The scent gets you almost drunk immediately, triggering your own arousal. It tastes the same but more pleasant than Sukuna's.

Surprisingly wants to be manhandled, which is tough because he's huge. But at the bare minimum, he's rịding you like a pro. His hips are fluid, and you can see the veins in his body become prominent with frustration the longer he goes without cụmming thick, creamy loads all over you both.

Licks a lot and wants to scent everything you both own. Panty thief Toji comes back, and he's got a hoard of your underwear scattered across the bed. One's even around his cọck when you walk in on him (recurring theme I fear).

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liyue-harbour · 6 months ago

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lighter's 6-step guide to ruining your kitchen (and winning your heart)

lighter lorenz x reader

summary: what starts as lighter trying to fix your broken coffee maker turns into an explosion of chaos, tools, and laughter. he's confident— too confident— but even as things spiral out of control, you can't help but enjoy the mess. (he's trying his best)

you eyed the old coffee maker like it had personally wronged you. in fairness, it kind of had— months of leaking water, leaking coffee, sputtering, and smelling vaguely like burnt plastic had left you at your wit's end. when lighter showed up for a visit and saw you glaring at it, he made the offer:

"i can fix that for you."

you raised a skeptical eyebrow. "can you?"

"please," he said, rolling up his sleeves with the bravado of someone who definitely had no idea what they were doing. "i've tackled bigger challenges."

step one: the toolbox gauntlet

it started innocently enough. you dug out the dusty old toolbox you hadn’t touched in years while lighter sets the coffee maker on your kitchen counter like it was a patient awaiting surgery.

"this is a mess," he said, holding up a screwdriver and spinning it in his fingers like he was auditioning for a hardware commercial.

"i know," you replied. "that's why i was going to buy a new one."

"where's the fun in that?" lighter grinned at you. "trust me, i've got this."

famous last words.

step two: controlled chaos (emphasis on chaos)

lighter pops open the back panel with alarming confidence, revealing a tangled mess of wires. "here's your problem," he said, pointing at the horrifying jumble like it was obvious.

"oh really?" you deadpanned. "i thought it was working perfectly."

he ignored your sarcasm and started tinkering, tools clinking against the counter as he muttered things like "that's weird" and "pretty sure this goes here". you leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the spectacle unfold. at one point, a small spark shot out of the machine, and both of you jumped back.

"totally normal," lighter said, though his wide eyes behind his tinted glasses betrayed him.

"normal for what? a sci-fi action movie?"

"relax", he said waving you off. "i've got it under control."

you weren't sure what definition of "control" he was using, but it definitely wasn't yours.

step three: the great coffee maker escape

things escalated when lighter attempted to plug the machine back in for a test run. it hummed ominously, sputtered, and then released a small puff of smoke. you grabbed a kitchen towel, ready to smother it in case of fire.

"uh, that's... progress?" lighter offers weakly.

"progress toward a lawsuit," you muttered, fanning the smoke away.

he finally threw in the towel, setting the screwdriver down with an exaggerated sigh. "okay, maybe it's more stubborn that i thought."

"lighter, it's dead." you laughed, shaking your head. "you didn't fix it— you put it out of misery."

step four: damage control

despite the chaos, lighter didn't look defeated. in fact, he looked entirely too pleased with himself as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and smirked at you. "hey at least we tried," he said. "and by we, i mean me, because i did all the work."

“oh, yes, all your hard work ruining my kitchen,” you teased, gesturing to the tools and coffee maker debris scattered everywhere.

“ruined is a strong word,” he countered, nudging you with his elbow. “i prefer ‘temporarily restructured.’”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “well, thank you for temporarily restructuring my coffee maker into a pile of junk.”

“anytime,” he said, his grin widening. “seriously, though, i’ll help you pick out a new one. one with fewer... deathtrap vibes.”

“appreciated,” you said, grabbing a damp cloth to start cleaning up.

step five: the clean-up crew

cleaning was just as chaotic as the diy attempt. lighter insisted on washing his hands in the tiniest sink possible, accidentally knocking over a glass in the process. you spent more time dodging his elbows than actually organising the tools.

“maybe stick to your day job,” you joked, shoving a wrench back into the toolbox.

“funny,” he replied, leaning over the counter to grab a towel. “i think i make an excellent handyman.”

“sure,” you said, smirking. “if the goal is to create more problems than you started with.”

he shot you a mock-offended look, but the glimmer in his eye gave him away. “you wound me.”

step six: the aftermath

by the time the kitchen was semi-clean and the coffee maker officially declared beyond repair, you were both leaning against the counter, exhausted but grinning.

“you know,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “you’re banned from fixing anything in my apartment ever again.”

“fair enough,” he replied, straightening up. “but admit it—you had fun.”

“fun?” You gave him a look. “that’s what we’re calling this disaster?”

“a masterpiece of domestic chaos,” he corrected, his grin teasing.

you laughed, shaking your head. “alright, fine. it was... entertaining.”

“entertaining?” he leaned closer, raising an eyebrow. “try ‘the best time you’ve had all week.’”

“don’t push it,” you said, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

#lighter #lighter lorenz #lighter x reader #lighter x you #x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zz x reader #zzzero x reader #zzzero #lighter zzz

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kwilquib · 3 months ago

Text

Unscripted Desire

Part 1

Part 2

Bae Suzy x Reader

Switching POV

Word Count: 8.9k+

A/N: had go split into two because of block limit.

The hotel bar exuded quiet luxury, its polished mahogany counters gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. The scent of aged whiskey mingled with hints of expensive cologne, a far cry from the smoke-filled dives she usually avoided. Suzy sat at the counter, her manicured nails idly tracing the rim of her crystal tumbler, the ice inside melting slowly. The amber liquid glided down her throat—smooth, refined—but it did little to quell the fire simmering in her chest.

She didn’t need to look at the screen to know what was playing. She had heard the gasps, the whispered murmurs, the way the bartender had hesitated before refilling her glass.

But still, she turned.

“Top actress Suzy caught in scandal—exclusive photos leaked!”

The news anchor’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. The massive screen above the bar displayed a montage of her face—smiling on red carpets, caught in the glare of paparazzi cameras. Then, the latest ones—blurry but damning. Her, exiting a luxury hotel. A man’s silhouette beside her. A rumor spun into a wildfire.

Her grip tightened around the glass. Bastards.

The sound of ice clinking in glasses and the occasional hum of jazz music no longer masked the shift in atmosphere. A low murmur spread through the bar like an infection.

"Is that really her?"

"No way, it’s Suzy, right?"

"Damn, she’s even hotter in person—"

She exhaled sharply, tilting her head down as she adjusted the brim of her cap. But it was too late. She could feel the stares now—some subtle, some bold. A group of men at the far end of the bar were whispering, one of them already raising his phone.

Shit.

Suzy threw back the rest of her drink and slammed a bill onto the counter, not bothering to wait for change.

“Leaving so soon?” the bartender asked, wary.

She flashed a practiced smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Not really in the mood for company.”

She could feel it now—the shift. It always happened right before someone got brave enough to approach. Right before someone tried to talk to her, or worse, tried to touch.

Sliding off the barstool, she pulled her coat tighter around her body and moved toward the exit, ignoring the hushed conversations behind her.

Outside, the cold air hit her like a slap. She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulled out her phone. The screen was flooded with missed calls—her manager, her agency, even her mother. The scandal was spreading like poison.

And she had nowhere to go.

Her apartment? No chance. The press would be swarming the entrance.

Hotels? Cameras everywhere.

She started walking, head low, ignoring the flash of a camera from across the street. She needed to disappear—just for a night.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the dark figure leaning casually against the alley wall up ahead.

Not until it was too late.

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

You drag your feet along the dimly lit street, shoulders heavy from another grueling day at the accounting firm. The subway entrance is just two blocks away when you hear it—a sharp intake of breath, followed by hushed, urgent voices spilling from the alley ahead.

You slow your steps, instincts prickling.

The sounds come first—muffled struggles, the scrape of boots against the pavement, a low chuckle laced with something vile. Then, a woman’s voice, sharp with defiance but tinged with the tremor of fear.

"Let me go."

Your gaze sharpens.

A slim figure is pressed against the cold brick wall, three men surrounding her. One grips her wrist. Another blocks her escape. The third, holding a camera, sneers.

"Come on, sweetheart. You’re already all over the news—what’s one more little scandal?"

"We know what kind of girl you are."

"Bet you’re just playing hard to get."

Your fingers twitch. You take them in—calculating.

The man gripping her wrist leans in, voice dripping with amusement. The second stands close, predatory. The third lingers just outside the fray, the lens of his camera gleaming.

And then there’s her.

Dark hair in wild disarray, lips parted, chest rising and falling too fast. Her dress is bunched at her thighs where they must have grabbed at her. But her stance is defiant—legs set, shoulders squared. She’s fighting. But she won’t win.

You step forward. Slowly. Deliberate. The scrape of your shoes against the pavement finally catches their attention.

The one holding her tenses first, his head snapping toward you. "The fuck do you want?"

You don’t answer. Your eyes flick between them, then to her. She sees you. Measures you the same way you did her.

"You lost, buddy?" the second sneers.

You pull out your phone, raising it just enough for them to see the screen. "Police or tabloids first? Either way, your faces are going viral."

A beat of hesitation.

"Fuck, let’s go, man. It’s not worth it," the one with the camera mutters.

That does it.

The grip on her wrist loosens. The men exchange glances before slinking into the shadows, muttering curses under their breath.

Silence.

You exhale, already turning to leave. But she’s still there, still pressed against the wall, watching you. Really watching you.

Chest still rising too fast. Adrenaline still humming beneath her skin. But now there’s something else in her gaze. Something keen.

"You okay?" Your voice is quieter now, but firm.

Her lips part—then curl. A slow, deliberate movement, the ghost of a smirk.

She trails her fingers down her arm, smoothing over her own skin as if only now remembering it belongs to her. "That was... brave of you."

Something in the way she says it makes your pulse thrum.

Her dress is still askew, one strap slipping off her shoulder, the curve of her collarbone gleaming under the dim light. When she exhales, it’s slower now—measured. A performance.

For you.

She shifts, subtly, her thigh brushing against yours as she steadies herself. "You didn’t have to help me."

"You wanted me to?"

A pause. Then, a soft laugh. "I wanted someone to."

Your fingers twitch.

She tilts her chin up, her mouth so very close now, her scent—something faintly sweet, something warm—curling around you.

And then, barely above a whisper: "Are you going to take your reward?"

"Don't care." The words come out before you can stop them, exhaustion stripping any patience you might have had. "What the hell were you thinking, walking alone in an alley at night? Are you trying to get hurt?"

She blinks, caught off guard. "Do you... not know who I am?"

"Should I?" You rub your temples, already regretting stepping in. "Look, get a cab or something. It’s not safe here."

You turn to leave, already thinking about your bed, your alarm clock, the miserable morning ahead.

"Wait—" she calls after you, indignation flaring in her tone.

But you don’t stop. Whatever mess she’s in, it’s not your problem.

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

Desperation makes people do crazy things. That's what Suzy tells herself as she trails the stranger through the dimly lit streets, keeping just far enough behind that he doesn't notice. Her heels click softly against the pavement—a sound that would normally make her self-conscious, but right now she's beyond caring.

She watches him climb the stairs of a weathered apartment building. Third floor. The kind of place she wouldn't have looked twice at before tonight. But right now? It might as well be salvation.

Her phone buzzes again. Another message from her manager: "Where are you? The press is everywhere. Your house is surrounded."

Decision made.

She catches the door before it locks, following his path up the worn stairs. The carpet is threadbare, the walls a dingy shade of beige. She finds him just as he's unlocking his door—303.

"Hey!"

He startles, turning to face her with wide eyes. "What the—"

She doesn't give him time to finish. The moment the door cracks open, she pushes past him into the apartment.

It’s small– painfully small. A one-bedroom unit with an open living space, a kitchen tucked neatly to the side, and a couch that looks well-worn but comfortable. The floor-to-ceiling windows should make it feel spacious, yet to her, the walls seem too close, the ceiling too low.

But it's private. Anonymous.

And right now, that's all that matters.

Perfect.

"You can't be here," he says, voice tight with disbelief. "How did you even—"

"I followed you." She drops onto his couch, letting her body sink into the worn cushions. They smell faintly of laundry detergent. "I need a place to stay."

"This is not a hotel." His jaw clenches. "Get out."

She reaches for the remote on his coffee table, flipping on the small TV mounted to the wall. As if on cue, her face appears on the screen—the scandal still breaking news. She gestures at it dramatically. "See that? That's why I can't leave. You saved me back there. That makes you responsible."

"That's... that's not how this works." But she can see the fight draining from him, replaced by pure exhaustion.

She pulls her legs up onto the couch, making herself comfortable. "One night. That's all I'm asking. By tomorrow, my agency will have handled everything." She hopes.

He stares at her for a long moment, and she holds her breath. This is crazy. She knows it's crazy. But she's out of options.

Finally, his shoulders slump. "Fine. One night. Then you leave."

Relief floods through her, though she keeps her expression neutral. "Deal."

He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "I must be losing my mind" as he disappears into what she assumes is the bathroom.

Suzy lets out a long breath, sinking deeper into the couch. Around her, the tiny apartment feels like a fortress—the first safe space she's found since this nightmare began.

Her phone buzzes again. She turns it off without looking.

Just one night, she thinks. One night to breathe. One night to figure out her next move.

One night in this stranger's apartment, where nobody would think to look for Korea's biggest star.

She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. For the first time since the scandal broke, she feels her muscles begin to relax.

Maybe desperate choices aren't always the worst ones.

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

You sat at your desk, eyes flicking to the clock, counting down the minutes until the workday ended. Each second dragged like molasses, the fluorescent lights overhead doing little to keep your exhaustion at bay.

Then—your phone buzzed.

"When are you going home?!?"

You sighed, barely sparing the message a glance before turning back to your screen. You weren’t in the mood. Home wasn’t any better than work, anyway.

Another buzz.

"I’m bored. I’ll be waiting outside your office."

Your fingers paused over the keyboard. A bluff. Typical Suzy, always demanding, always expecting. As if the world revolved around her whims. You dismissed the message and refocused on your task.

Then, another buzz—this time, a photo.

Annoyed but curious, you unlocked your phone.

It was a selfie. But it wasn’t her face that made your stomach drop—it was the background. The ground floor of your office. The reception desk, crystal clear behind her.

She wasn’t bluffing.

"Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath, shoving your chair back.

You shot up from your seat, raking a hand through your hair.

"Sir?" you called out, barely masking the irritation in your tone. "I know it's a little early, but can I clock out?"

Your senior barely looked up but caught the urgency in your face. He sighed, waving you off. "Go ahead."

Not wasting another second, you grabbed your things and rushed to the elevator, pressing the button impatiently.

The moment the doors slid open, you strode into the lobby—and there she was. Suzy.

Leaning against the reception desk, chatting with the receptionist like she had all the time in the world. Carefree. As if she hadn’t just disrupted your entire evening for no reason other than her own boredom.

Despite her attempt at going incognito—oversized hoodie, cap pulled low, and dark sunglasses—there was no mistaking her. The way she carried herself, the subtle air of confidence, the effortless way she drew attention even when trying to avoid it.

As you got closer, her voice drifted to you.

"Can you call someone for me? It's urgent."

"I can look up their name for you," the receptionist offered with a polite smile.

"His name is—”

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

A sudden grip on her wrist. Firm. Quick.

Suzy blinked, momentarily startled, before a slow smirk curled her lips.

Ah. There he was.

She turned her head lazily, meeting his sharp, irritated gaze. Annoyance simmered just beneath the surface—he was trying to keep his cool, but oh, she could see it. The frustration, the barely restrained anger.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice tight, forced into some semblance of calm.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I told you, I was bored. You shouldn’t have ignored me."

She watched him grit his teeth, his fingers twitching against her wrist before he let go. How amusing. He always acted like she was some kind of nuisance, an inconvenience in his neatly arranged life. But despite all that? He was here. Right where she wanted him.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she pressed her car keys into his palm, ignoring the exasperation and tightening his expression.

She pressed her car keys into his palm, watching his expression shift from exasperation to disbelief. "I’m hungry. Let’s eat."

"You could’ve just ordered something. Or gone through a drive-thru," he said, voice sharp.

She ignored him.

Because despite all his resistance, all his frustration, she knew.

He was going to follow her.

And that—more than anything—made her smile.

The drive was tense.

The low hum of the engine and the occasional sound of turn signals were the only things filling the silence between them. He gripped the steering wheel a little too tight, jaw locked as he focused on the road ahead.

Suzy, on the other hand, sat comfortably in the passenger seat, one leg crossed over the other, tapping her fingers idly against her knee. She was entirely unbothered by the thick cloud of irritation radiating off of him.

"You know," she finally broke the silence, her voice laced with amusement, "I'm paying, so you can relax."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers flexing around the wheel. "That’s not the problem, Suzy."

"I just wanted takeout anyway," she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, "so we can eat at home."

His eyes flicked toward her, disbelief flashing across his face. "Home?" he repeated. "Whose home?"

"Yours, obviously," she said easily, stretching her arms behind her head.

And just like that, he had enough.

"You’re unbelievable," he snapped, his patience finally cracking. "You act like you own me, like you can just decide things for me. What part of this makes sense to you, Suzy? You show up uninvited, you drag me out of work, and now you expect me to do something you could've done alone?"

"You’re being ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, but he caught it.

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m ridiculous? That’s rich coming from you."

Her head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "I don’t see what the big deal is. I just wanted to eat with you. Why are you acting like I did something horrible?"

"Because you don’t ask—you just decide things for me," he shot back. "You don’t care what I want, Suzy. It’s always about you."

Suzy scowled. "That’s not true."

"Really? Then tell me—when have you ever considered what I wanted?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She hated that. Hated how he always had something to throw back at her.

"Well, I want to be with you," she declared, as if that alone should settle it.

He clenched his jaw. "And that’s exactly the problem. You act like I don’t have a choice in the matter."

She scoffed. "You’re just making excuses. What, are you scared of me or something?"

"Scared of you?" He laughed, shaking his head. "No, Suzy. I just don’t want to deal with your entitled attitude."

That struck a nerve.

She turned fully to face him, brows furrowing. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, exasperation bleeding into his tone. "You walk around like the world owes you something—like I owe you something."

Her fingers tightened around her arms. "I owe you something?" she echoed, tone sharper now. "I don’t see you complaining when other people throw themselves at me. But when it’s you, suddenly it’s a problem?"

"Because I’m not one of your fans, Suzy."

That shut her up for a second.

But only for a second.

"You’re acting like I’m forcing you at gunpoint," she snapped. "All I’m doing is giving you my time. Do you know how many people would kill for that?"

"There it is again," he muttered, gripping the wheel. "Your time. Your attention. It’s always about you."

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "If you hate it so much, then why are we still here?"

"Because you won’t leave me alone!"

His voice rose, frustration boiling over. Suzy flinched slightly at the sharpness of it. But instead of backing down, she doubled down.

"God, you’re so dramatic," she muttered. "I thought you were different."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah? Well, I thought you would change after your hiatus, but here we are."

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he’d gone too far.

The car went deathly silent.

Suzy's expression froze, the usual fire in her eyes flickering out for just a second. Her fingers clenched against her arms, nails pressing into her skin.

He could feel it—the shift. He hit a nerve. A deep one.

She swallowed, staring ahead, jaw tight. "Pull over."

"Suzy—"

"Pull over."

He exhaled through his nose but did as she asked, guiding the car to the side of the road. The moment it stopped, she pushed the door open, stepping out without another word.

He closed his eyes, running a hand down his face. "Shit."

After a moment, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, finding her standing by the side of the car, arms crossed.

"Look," he started, sighing, "I shouldn’t have said that."

She didn’t look at him. "No, you shouldn’t have."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I’m sorry."

Suzy let out a long breath, finally meeting his gaze. She studied him for a moment before nodding. "Apology accepted."

A beat of silence.

"But I still stand by what I said," he added.

Suzy’s lips twitched, somewhere between a smirk and a scowl. "So do I."

Of course she did.

And somehow, despite everything, despite the argument, despite the tension still lingering between them—he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

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

As you pull into the parking spot outside your apartment, Suzy is already moving. Before you can even turn off the engine, she’s out of the car, slipping into the night like she’s done this a hundred times before.

You curse under your breath, grabbing the takeout bags and hurrying after her, but she’s fast—too fast for someone who claims to have nowhere else to be.

By the time you catch up, she’s crouched by your doorstep, fingers deftly adjusting the potted plant where you keep your spare key. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t fumble.

Just lifts it, plucks the key from its usual spot, and unlocks the door with the ease of someone who belongs here.

Like she’s done it countless times before.

She steps inside without looking back, already shrugging off her jacket, already shedding the pieces of her disguise, leaving a trail of familiarity in her wake.

And for a second, you just stand there.

Watching her move through your space like it’s hers. Like she’s always been here.

You tiptoe around her mess, careful not to disturb the chaos that has overtaken your once-pristine apartment. The space you kept meticulously tidy—your sanctuary—now feels like occupied territory, claimed by the nation’s so-called first love. She lounges on your couch, lazily flipping through TV channels as if she belongs there.

“When are you leaving?” you ask, setting your takeout on the table with a little more force than necessary.

She sighs, not even looking at you. “Again?” Her voice carries the weight of someone more exhausted by the question than by her own intrusion.

“You said one night. That was the deal,” you remind her, trying to catch her gaze, but she refuses to meet your eyes.

Instead, "I'm going to shower!" she announced, a touch too brightly, seemingly ignoring your last comment. She stretched languidly from the couch, her shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of her stomach.

Her eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. She moved with a deliberate slowness, her already short shorts riding even higher with each step. As she walked past you, she stretched again, exaggerating the movement, highlighting her petite frame. The stretch pulled her shirt further up her back, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin, while her shorts dipped precariously low, almost to the edge of her hips. It was a performance, a subtle display designed for your eyes only.

Reaching the bathroom door, she paused, holding your gaze captive. You watched, unsure of what she was planning next. Suddenly, she moved again, as if initiating another stretch. But this time, the movement was different, more deliberate. She fully lifted her shirt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. Then, she reached for the waistband of her shorts, slowly pulling them down, deliberately showcasing the curve of her backside. Beneath the shorts, she wore lacy underwear, the delicate fabric barely concealing her form. The striptease continued as she slowly raised each knee in turn, carefully removing her panties, teasingly obscuring your view of her most intimate area.

Finally, she stood nude, her back to you. As if sensing your captivated gaze, she turned her head just enough for you to see the edge of a grin playing on her lips. It was a look of both triumph and something else… something you couldn't quite place.

With a final, lingering glance, she slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving you in a state of heightened anticipation.

The bathroom door clicks shut, and you finally let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

This wasn’t new. Not really. Ever since she decided your apartment was hers too, Suzy had been toying with you—testing boundaries, pushing limits. The casual touches, the way she’d stretch just enough to let her shirt ride up, the way she’d pretend innocence after every single deliberate move.

But tonight? Tonight was different. Tonight was bolder.

You drag a hand down your face, exhaling sharply. The image of her peeling off her clothes, that teasing glance before she disappeared into the bathroom—it lingers, searing itself into your mind against your will.

You should be used to this.

You aren’t.

Shaking off the heat curling in your stomach, you turn to the mess she’s left behind, grasping onto the one thing you can control—order.

Her jacket is draped over the armrest like she owns the place. A scarf is tangled with her purse on the floor, one of her shoes discarded near the door while the other is kicked under the coffee table. And her clothes—why the hell were they everywhere? A hoodie thrown onto your chair, a sweater half-off the couch, socks abandoned completely.

You crouch, grabbing her shirt and folding it with a little too much force, jaw tight as you work.

She’s done this before—left her mark, made herself comfortable, like she’s waiting for you to snap, waiting for you to do something about it.

You never do.

Not in the way she wants.

But tonight… tonight is testing you.

The sound of the shower running is background noise, but your mind betrays you, conjuring up images you shouldn’t entertain. You shake your head, focusing on picking up the wreckage of her presence instead.

Because this? This is her entertainment, tormenting you, a game.

And you’re not going to let her win.

~~~

The last beads of water slide down her skin, slow and indulgent, tracing the shape of her body like tiny, obedient servants before vanishing between her thighs. The steam still clings to the air, swirling around her like a curtain before finally retreating, revealing glimpses of her reflection in the mirror.

Suzy grins. There it is. The spark of victory. The proof of her power.

Because she saw it. The way his jaw went tight, the way his fingers curled around his shirt, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. He thought she didn’t notice—thought he was still untouchable, still above her games. But tonight, oh tonight, he slipped.

He lingered.

And that? That was a win.

She hums to herself, a playful little tune as she watches her reflection, trailing a finger down the length of her arm like she’s congratulating herself. Because why not? She earned it.

That man had the nerve to dismiss her, to act like she was just a nuisance in his life. Like she wasn’t the most exciting thing to ever happen to his boring, colorless world. Like she wasn’t a gift, generously bestowing him with her presence.

Ungrateful.

And yet, despite all his protests, all his tired sighs and sharp words—he looked. He always looked.

Suzy giggles, the sound light, teasing, full of mischief.

"You can’t ignore me forever, you know."

She tilts her head, admiring herself from different angles, brushing her damp hair back over her shoulder.

Perfect. Every inch of her was designed to be admired, and after tonight? He’d have to admit that. He’d have to admit that he’d been wrong about her. About everything.

She bites her lip, not out of shyness—please—but because she loves the anticipation. The thrill of knowing she’s gotten under his skin, past his walls, into that stubborn little head of his.

Just a little more.

She reaches for her bathrobe, slipping it over her damp skin, the silk clinging in all the right places. She doesn’t bother tying it tight. No, no, no. That would ruin the fun. It stays just loose enough, just dangerous enough, like an invitation waiting to be answered.

Then, with a final wink at herself—because really, who deserves it more?—she steps toward the door.

Suzy’s joy immediately faltered as she stepped out of the bathroom, her grin freezing in place. There he was, diligently setting the table, his back to her, completely unbothered. No lingering glances, no tension in his shoulders—nothing. He wasn’t even waiting.

How dare he?

She had given him a show, hadn’t she? Deliberately undressing in front of him, her back turned just enough to tease, to tempt. She’d felt his eyes on her—or at least, she thought she had. The memory of it had fueled her confidence as she stepped into the shower, imagining him squirming, resisting, wanting. But now? Now he was just… setting the damn table.

“You’re out of shampoo,” she said, her voice sharp with annoyance, though it was mostly to mask the sting of his indifference.

He paused, his hands hovering over the plates for a moment before he straightened. “How?! I bought that four days ago—” His voice caught, as he glanced at Suzy, just barely, but it was enough. A tiny crack.

Suzy’s grin returned, slow and triumphant. She waited, her eyes narrowing as she braced for the rest of his sentence—some excuse, some flicker of emotion. But it never came. Instead, he simply turned back to the table, his movements calm and methodical, as if she hadn’t just emerged from his bathroom, damp and glowing and perfect.

Baffled. Confused. Frustrated. Annoyed. The emotions churned in her chest, each one sharper than the last.

Just when she thought she’d finally cracked him, just when she thought she’d seen the faintest hint of vulnerability, he’d reverted to his usual self—dismissive, unimpressed, utterly unappreciative of her grace and beauty.

“You’re going to eat like that?” he asked, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened. As if she weren’t standing there in his bathrobe, the silk clinging to her skin, her hair still damp and curling at the edges.

Suzy’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to smile, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached the table. She didn’t take her eyes off him, searching for any sign of a crack in his nonchalance—a twitch of his lips, a flicker of his gaze, anything. But there was nothing. Just the same infuriating calm.

She sat down across from him, her movements deliberate, her robe slipping just enough to reveal the curve of her shoulder. He didn’t look up. He was already eating, his focus entirely on his meal, as if she were nothing more than a mildly inconvenient guest.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Suzy couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re not gay, are you?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice saccharine-sweet, but her knuckles whitened around her fork. Pathetic, she scolded herself. But she needed an answer—any answer—to explain why he refused to look, to want, to break.

He paused, his fork hovering mid-air. For a heartbeat, she saw it—the faintest twitch in his jaw, the shadow of something raw flickering behind his eyes. Then it vanished. He set his fork down with deliberate calm and met her gaze. “I’m not playing your games. You should’ve realized that by now.”

The words were a slap. Suzy’s smile cracked, her chest tightening. Games? This wasn’t a game. This was survival. If he could resist her, what did that make her?

She stared at her plate, the food now repulsive in its mundanity. Why couldn’t he see her? The steam from the meal curled upward, mocking her, and suddenly the room felt suffocating.

Then it hit her—a jagged, desperate epiphany. He hadn’t thrown her out. He hadn’t called the cops, hadn’t sold her secrets to the ravenous press. For all his scowling and sighs, he’d let her stay. Let her linger.

Because he wants to, her pride hissed. Because he’s lying.

The last drops of water had barely cooled on her skin when she stepped out of the bathroom, her silk robe clinging to her damp body. Suzy knew exactly what she was doing. She always did.

“Are you really unaffected by me?” she purred, rising from her chair, letting the robe slip dangerously off one shoulder. She circled the table like a predator, her bare feet silent against the floor, her movements slow, deliberate.

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But something flickered behind his eyes—something dark, something warning.

She ignored it.

“You can pretend all you want,” she whispered, gripping his chin and tilting his face toward hers, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her thumb traced the hard line of his jaw, feeling the tension coiled beneath. “But you’re enjoying this. Admit it.”

“Suzy.” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. Like the silence before a storm.

Drunk on her own confidence, she pressed closer, her breath warm against his skin. “Admit I’m under your skin. Admit you think about me—”

His hand shot up, fingers wrapping around her wrist in an iron grip. The suddenness of it made her gasp, her practiced composure slipping for just a moment.

“You want to know what I think?” His voice was low, controlled, but laced with something that sent a shiver through her. “I think you’re pushing boundaries you don’t understand.”

She tried to hold onto her sultry smile, but it faltered when he stood, towering over her, his presence suffocating in the most intoxicating way.

“I—”

“No.” He cut her off, backing her against the wall with slow, deliberate steps. His other hand came up to her throat—not squeezing, just resting there, a silent reminder of control she no longer had. “You wanted my attention? Congratulations. You have it.”

Her breath hitched. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to be the one in control, the one making him unravel.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His thumb brushed against her racing pulse. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To break my control?” He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “Or are you finally realizing you might have pushed too far?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

“You didn’t think,” he murmured, his voice darkening. “You never do. You just take and push and demand, thinking there won’t be consequences.”

Then he kissed her. Not sweetly, not like in her carefully crafted fantasies. This was raw, deliberate—punishment wrapped in pleasure. His grip tangled in her hair, holding her still as he devoured her, bruising and possessive.

She whimpered, hands fisting in his shirt, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away. This wasn’t her game anymore. This was him showing her exactly what happened when she got what she asked for.

When he pulled back, her breath was ragged, her lips swollen. The smug confidence she wore like armor had cracked completely, leaving her wide-eyed, vulnerable.

“Still think I’m unaffected?” His gaze was dark with satisfaction. “Or should I show you exactly how affected I can be?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body betraying her even as her mind scrambled to reclaim control.

He didn’t give her the chance.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he tugged at the knot of her robe. The silk slipped from her shoulders, sliding down her body like a whisper, pooling at her feet.

She was bare before him, her skin flushed from heat and the chill of the air. A shiver ran through her as his hands found her shoulders, his touch light yet commanding.

He leaned in, lips grazing her neck, his breath warm against her skin. A small, involuntary whimper escaped her lips.

He pulled back, his gaze never leaving hers, then lowered his head—his breath now ghosting over her breast. Then, without warning, his lips closed around her nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak before sucking deeply.

“Ah… Hnng…” Her moan broke through the silence.

She tried to grasp onto her confidence, forcing a teasing smirk. “I should’ve known you were this hungry—”

The words died on her lips as he latched onto her again, silencing any attempt at control.

Her legs pressed together, squirming against the growing ache between them. Her hands hovered over his body, unsure where they belonged—her thoughts a haze, her senses overwhelmed. A strange sensation started at her toes, tingling, winding its way up until her head felt dizzy, like she was melting into him.

Then he stopped.

She barely registered the ragged sound of her own breathing, her gaze locked on him—not with desire, but with the dazed fixation of a predator realizing it’s become prey.

“You think I’m doing this to make you feel good?” His voice was low, almost clinical, as he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand.

“I’m n-not—” The lie fractured as his free hand slid down her ribcage, fingertips branding her skin. Her body tautened, betraying her, hips arching toward him before she could stop herself.

“You’re right,” he rasped, his breath hot against her ear. “This isn’t about me. It never was.” His palm closed over her breast, thumb circling her nipple with deliberate, agonizing slowness. “It’s about you learning what happens when you shove your way into someone’s life and demand they perform for you.”

She gasped, teeth sinking into her lower lip to stifle a whimper. Don’t. Don’t give him this. But her traitorous body strained against him, heat pooling low in her stomach.

“Keep your hands here,” he ordered, tightening his grip on her wrists. “Or I stop.”

“Stop then,” she hissed, the last shred of pride sharpening her voice. She shoved weakly against him, but her muscles felt liquid, useless.

He laughed—a dark, humorless sound—and nipped the curve of her neck. “You don’t want me to stop. You’ve never wanted anything real in your life, have you? Just applause. Just proof.” His fingers pinched her nipple hard enough to sting, and a broken noise escaped her throat. “Here’s your proof, Suzy. You’re ordinary here. Just flesh. Just need.”

She hated him. Hated how his words slithered under her skin, hated how her thighs trembled, hated the slick ache between them that throbbed in time with his touch. Most of all, she hated the part of her that craved this—the part that wanted him to dismantle her, piece by performative piece, until nothing was left but the raw, shameful truth:

She’d rather be ruined by him than ignored.

So she let herself break.

Her hands, once limp with shock, clawed at his shirt—buttons scattering, her nails scraping skin. She bit the inside of her cheek, hating how badly she craved the heat he’d denied her.

“You’re already wet,” he muttered, fingers skimming her thigh, blunt and deliberate.

Her breath hitched, but she forced a smirk, lifting her chin. “I—maybe. So?”

His lips curled, as if amused by the pathetic excuse for defiance. “So? Liar.”

A sharp gasp broke from her as he slid a finger into her, ruthless.

Her fingers trembled against his belt, but she yanked at the leather anyway, snapping it free. “You talk too much,” she muttered, pretending her voice wasn’t shaking.

“You begged for this,” he said, pressing another finger inside, harder this time, until she was pinned between him and the wall.

“Hnnng…Fuck…” The sound slipped before she could stop it. Humiliating.

His grin was immediate, infuriating. Heat crawled up her neck, but before he could throw another taunt, she grabbed his waistband and yanked—pants and boxers falling in one sharp pull.

His cock sprang free, thick and hot against her stomach as he leaned in, claiming her mouth. The kiss was different now. Deeper. More. And yet his hands never withdrew from between her legs, never let up, never let her breathe.

She was spiraling too fast, losing ground. No, no, no—she wasn’t supposed to be the one drowning.

The climax built, tight and unbearable, until—

He broke the kiss. Just like that.

Suzy chased his lips, her mouth grazing his chin, his jaw, anywhere—but he turned away, leaving her gasping at nothing.

“Contraceptives,” he muttered, already heading for the kitchen counter.

“Oh.” The word slipped out small and stupid. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cheeks burning. Since when did she forget herself like this?

Her body ached with frustration, but she refused to stand there waiting like some desperate, abandoned thing. So she followed, her bare feet slapping against the floor. “Hurry,” she breathed, though she’d rather die than admit it was a plea.

He turned, a condom packet pinched between his fingers, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her.

“Wait—!” Suzy yelped, arms flailing before instinct had them locking around his neck.

His heartbeat.

She could hear it, rapid and relentless against her ear. Or maybe it was hers. She couldn’t tell anymore. Their breaths, their heat, their hunger—blurring together.

He laid her down, shadow swallowing her whole as he climbed over her. But instead of moving, instead of tearing into her the way she swore she wanted, he just... stared. His gaze traced her face, slow and searching, like he was trying to memorize something she didn’t even know she was showing.

It made her skin prickle. “What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” he murmured, voice softer than she’d ever heard it. “Just wondering how someone so loud can feel so small.”

Suzy’s throat tightened.

She wanted to scoff, roll her eyes—fire back with something smug and clever. But the words tangled, refusing to come.

Before she could untangle them, he kissed her again. Slow, deliberate. His hands cradled her face, gentle in a way that terrified her.

Here’s your refined scene, keeping Suzy’s teasing nature but also her struggle with honesty and vulnerability:

Because fragility was the one thing she couldn’t fake.

“Just—just do what you want already,” she stuttered, hating how weak she sounded.

He hovered over her, their faces so close she could feel his breath against her lips. Her nipples, tight and sensitive, pressed against the heat of his skin.

Instead of answering, he kissed her—just a tap, far gentler than before. Almost sweet.

“Aren’t you a little impatient, Suzy?” he murmured, the tease running straight through her, twisting low in her stomach.

It was the first time he’d said her name with a smile.

Her heart fluttered.

No. No, no, no. She refused to react to that.

Before she could come up with some snarky retort, he pulled back, dragging his lips down her body. His movements were slow, deliberate, each inch of space he put between their faces only making the anticipation coil tighter inside her.

Her breath hitched when he settled between her legs.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, already knowing.

She knew exactly what he was about to do.

Yet she asked anyway, unprepared for the moment it would actually happen.

“W-wait, at least let me take a shower first,” she blurted, grasping at anything to stall, to breathe, to think.

A snicker rumbled from below. “Didn’t you just take a shower?”

Heat flooded her face. She wanted to disappear.

Before she could find another excuse—

“Haahn—!”

His tongue swept over her folds, slow and deliberate.

“Ahh! god—!”

A sharp jolt of pleasure shot up her spine as he played with her clit, teasing, circling, pressing.

“W-wait… I—ah! Ahhn! Hnghh!”

Then—

“Hiiic!”

She flinched, her entire body jolting as he sucked, her back arched upwards, the sound indecent, shameless.

Blinking down at him, her breath ragged, she found him already watching her. Smirking.

“You’re really sensitive, Suzy.”

His words lit a spark of defiance in her. He was teasing her, toying with her, and she wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

She sprang up, her body still trembling from his touch. “It’s your turn now.”

He raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “What?”

“I said—it’s your turn now.” She tapped his shoulder with her foot, her legs still parted, unintentionally exposing herself more than she realized.

His gaze darkened. “Oh?”

“Let’s see how patient you are,” she challenged, tilting her chin, her voice laced with quiet amusement.

A slow smirk spread across his lips, but he said nothing.

“What are you waiting for? Lie down.” She guided him onto his back, effortlessly shifting their positions. Now, she was on top.

Kneeling between his legs, her eyes flickered downward, and—

Oh.

His cock stood between them, thick and rigid, a sight she was no stranger to. And yet, something about him—about this—felt different.

Her fingers moved without hesitation, wrapping around him with practiced ease, stroking with a steady rhythm. He was warm, heavy in her grasp, the weight of him familiar yet somehow new.

She had done this before—many times. But never with him.

And now, with the heat of the moment slowed to her pace, she had the chance to take him in, to truly feel him.

Her fingers barely met around his girth.

Her breath hitched.

He was bigger than she expected, thicker than she was used to.

A challenge.

Her lips curled slightly as she leaned in, her breath ghosting over his length. Her strokes remained measured, deliberate, teasing. She knew exactly what she was doing—what effect she had on him.

With her free hand, she traced the tip, swirling a finger through the precum, watching the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. A soft chuckle escaped her as she tucked her hair behind her ears, preparing to take him in.

Slowly, she let her tongue slip out, teasing him before finally making contact—

“Nggh…” A deep grunt rumbled from his chest, his cock twitching in response.

And then—

A sharp pulse, followed by a hot splash across her cheek.

She stilled, eyes flicking up to meet him. His breath was ragged, his fists clenched at his sides.

A wicked smirk tugged at her lips as she dragged a finger through the mess on her skin, bringing it to her mouth, letting her tongue flick out just enough to taste him.

“You’re really sensitive,” she murmured, her tone dripping with satisfaction.

His jaw tightened.

And just like that, she knew—she had him.

That moment of vulnerability, of losing control, it was hers to wield now. The tables had turned, just as she had wanted. Before, she had been overwhelmed by him, caught in his pace, his touch. But now—now, he was the one left breathless beneath her.

Her strokes slowed, teasing, deliberate. She leaned in, lips just barely grazing his length, reveling in the way his muscles tensed, in the sharp breath he sucked through his teeth.

Yes.

This was the power she had been after.

But just as quickly as she seized it—

The world flipped.

A gasp escaped her as he moved with speed she hadn’t anticipated, his hands gripping her waist, turning the entire game on its head. One moment she was on top, in control—

The next, her back was against the sheets, his weight caging her in.

His knee parted her legs effortlessly, pressing between her thighs as he loomed over her. That smug dominance had returned to his gaze, lips curling with something dark and knowing.

She shuddered, realizing—

She had only borrowed control for a moment.

He had merely let her think she had won.

“Suzy,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, eyes dark and impatient. “Did you enjoy your little game?”

Her breath hitched.

She could feel him—his cock resting heavy against her stomach, a silent promise of what was to come. It pulsed against her skin, a relentless reminder of the inevitable.

Heat coiled low in her belly.

She wanted him.

She needed him.

Her breath hitched as she watched him roll the condom on, the slow, practiced motion only fueling the fire already burning inside her.

Hesitation warred with longing, nerves tangled with impatience. But pride had no place here—not when every inch of her ached for him.

She was ready to surrender.

She parted her lips, ready to plead, to beg—

“Ready?”

His voice cut through the air, low, rough, edged with impatience.

It was the question that could have once been her escape. The opening she had looked for before.

But that moment had passed long ago.

Now, there was only him.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, a silent answer—a confirmation, a submission, an invitation.

It wasn’t him who had been in her grasp—

It had been the other way around all along.

With her silent permission, he wasted no time. Strong hands spread her open, parting her folds as the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance.

“Ngh… Fuuuck!”

He pushed inside, inch by inch, stretching her, filling her. A gasp tore from her lips as her walls clenched around him, adjusting to his size. His heat seeped into her, a sensation that was both overwhelming and intoxicating.

Her feet quivered. Her fingers curled into the sheets, while her other hand covered her mouth, muffling the cries threatening to spill free.

The sudden, intense pleasure blinded her. Her eyes clenched shut, darkness swallowing her vision, but she wasn’t alone—she could feel him.

Moving.

Slow at first, each thrust deliberate, controlled, but quickly gaining speed.

“Hnngg…” She bit down on her lip, her breath shaky, her body at his mercy as he drove into her over and over again.

Her world narrowed to the sounds around her—their ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed beneath them, the rustling sheets.

She could feel everything.

The firm grip of his hands on her thighs. The way her body shifted with every deep thrust. The friction of him inside her, stretching her, claiming spaces untouched before.

And then—

A jolt of pleasure shot through her as his thumb found her clit, circling it, pressing, teasing.

“Hnng… No, n-not there—”

Her eyes flew open, and she found him staring at her, gaze dark, unwavering, drinking in every tremor, every reaction.

Heat flooded her cheeks. His focused attention made her feel bare in an entirely new way.

But he didn’t stop.

If anything, her protest only encouraged him. His movements deepened, his thrusts grew stronger, reaching deeper than she thought possible.

“Hnng!!”

Flustered, she covered her face with both hands, as if shielding herself from his gaze—unwilling to let him see just how undone she was becoming.

His pace slowed—a brief respite.

A chance for him to catch his breath.

And for her to regain a shred of sanity.

Her hands trembled as they shielded her face, as if trying to ground herself, to control the heat creeping up her skin. But he didn’t let her. His hands, warm and firm, gently pried hers away, forcing her to meet his gaze.

Her breath hitched. His eyes, dark and unwavering, held her captive.

Slowly, he guided her hands to his lips, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her fingers, her palms. The sensation sent a shudder through her, and before she could stop it, a whimper slipped past her lips.

“Hnngh…!”

The attention she had craved so desperately now felt overwhelming—almost unbearable.

"Why… why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, voice unsteady, flustered.

A grin tugged at his lips, his intensity never faltering. “Because I want to see your beauty, Suzy.”

Hearing her name from his lips hit her harder than she expected. It wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he said it. Soft, tender. A stark contrast to the raw dominance he had shown before.

She had heard her name spoken countless times, but with him, it felt different. More intimate. More real.

The simplicity of his words, the sincerity in his voice—it was exactly what she had longed for. And yet, now that she had it, she felt shaken, unprepared for how deeply it unraveled her.

“What?" she breathed, struggling to process it.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, his breath warm against her neck, sending a tremor through her body.

“W-wait—” Her protest barely left her lips before his mouth claimed hers.

His tongue slid past her parted lips, and instinctively, she met him, matching his rhythm as if it had always been this way. As if her body already knew how to respond to him.

His hands skimmed down her legs, shifting, lifting her hips with effortless control.

The brief pause between them shattered.

Their break was over.

His hips drove into her once again, a deep, deliberate thrust that stole her breath.

Her moans were swallowed by his mouth, his kiss consuming, demanding.

The force of him pushed her deeper into the bed, her body molding to his movements as he pressed her into the mattress. His pace was relentless, each thrust pushing her closer to an edge she wasn’t ready to face.

His lips left hers, trailing down her neck, sucking, biting—leaving his mark.

“Hnnng… I can’t… I—” Her plea was barely a whisper, drowned out by the rhythm of their bodies colliding.

His kisses turned into nibbles, teasing, devouring. Desperate to stop his assault, she tried to push his face away, only for him to seize her wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

Now her hands became his focus.

He kissed her fingertips, grazed his teeth along her knuckles, breathed in her scent as if memorizing it. Then he sucked gently, tongue flicking over her skin, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You look gorgeous like this, Suzy,” he murmured, admiring the wrecked state he had reduced her to.

His voice cut through the symphony of their skin slapping, the slick sounds of their bodies moving together, the ragged breaths and muffled moans.

Heat flared across her skin. She wanted to say something—anything—but before she could, her body jolted.

“Ah—!!” Her cry broke free, louder than before, almost a scream.

He had reached deep, pressing against a spot she hadn’t known existed.

Her vision blurred. Her thoughts fractured.

She was unraveling, pleasure crashing over her in waves so intense she could barely hold on.

“I’m… close…” His voice was rough, strained, barely comprehensible. But she didn’t need to hear it.

She could feel it.

His cock throbbed inside her, primed to explode.

And then—release.

Heat surged inside her as his climax tore through him, his body tensing before he spilled into the condom.

Her walls clenched around him, milking every last drop, her own ecstasy cresting in tandem.

Her mouth parted in a silent scream, her entire body seizing in pleasure so sharp it was almost unbearable.

For a moment, there was nothing. No thoughts, no words—only sensation.

Her consciousness floated, her body trembling, spent, utterly wrecked.

Then—his lips were on hers again.

Soft this time. Gentle. A stark contrast to the madness from moments ago.

With the last remnants of her energy, she kissed him back.

Slowly, the kiss melted into something tender, something lingering. A silent exchange of satisfaction, of fulfillment.

Her breathing slowed.

Her consciousness drifted.

And before she could fight it, sleep pulled her under.

Part 2 ---->

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #bae suzy #suzy #suzy smut #qwilorg #qwib-short-story

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kurooh · 11 months ago

Text

FAST N FURIOUS ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. what kind of car sex does he like to have? maybe on the hood of the car, in the backseat, or while he’s driving?

⟡ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, semi-public sex, sexual activities involving vehicles, squirting, oral [f&m giving/receiving], dirty talk.

⟡ xoxo, juno: thank you for 2k!! <3 btw gojo gets hard as a rock if you suck on his fingers

— GOJO SATORU.

“just enjoy yourself, pretty girl..” satoru whispers, lightly pinching one of your asscheeks as his cock pistons in and out of you wetly. “mmmh, i’ve been wanting to fuck you all over this car since the day we met.”

your puffy pussy squeezes down on his cock tightly, and he groans, eyes rolling back as his hips still momentarily. “been wanting you to, satoru.. i-i love it when you fuck me deep like this, don’t stop, please!” you wiggle your ass against his pelvis, and he inhales sharply as he starts up the same pace again. the tempo is brutal, hungry, sloppy with all the wild need behind it.

the white hood of satoru’s car gleams in the moonlight, the only car in the vacant grocery store parking lot. you’re bent right over the hood, nipples pebbled from the cold, smooth surface and friction of your body sliding forward with each of his frenzied thrusts.

satoru had just returned from a two week business trip on the other side of the country, and you’d been awaiting his return, eager to be with him and needy for all he had to give you. today, he had been too tired to do much, so you went out and had a little dinner in the car before driving through the almost empty city.

under the cover of darkness, one kiss had led to another, causing you and satoru to end up disheveled in the backseat before he was opening the doors of his car and pulling you right outside. then you were being bent over the hood and he was inside you.

your hips bang against the side of the car as he carelessly thrusts against you, cock slamming deep and leaking so much precum you feel it dripping from your hole and collecting at your clit before falling to the asphalt below.

“g-god, nghhh— i’m gonna fucking cum, baby.” satoru’s growing frantic as he pushes closer and closer to the edge. his thighs are trembling, pressed against the backs of your own, and he absolutely does not know where to put himself.

“w-where do you want it?” he gasps, voice ragged as blue eyes squeeze shut. just the sound of his needy moans and sensation of his thickening cock has your tight hole clamping down on him as your arms collapse beneath you and you fall against the hood.

“e-everywhere, satoru!” you demand, whining loudly. your mind’s too jumbled to specify where, all fucked out on his thick cock.

satoru pulls out, gritting his teeth as he aims his cock over you and shoots globs of sticky cum all over your asscheeks and lower back. “damn, you look so fucking amazing like this,” he grunts, finally catching his breath as the last droplet of cum rolls down the length of his cock.

“toru, wanna lick it up,” you turn your head, pupils blown and tits bouncing ever so slightly. the tone of your voice is velvety and unashamed, which has him swiping his fingers over your skin and lifting them towards your mouth. your plush lips wrap around his wet fingers, and you moan lowly as you greedily swallow all the cum from his skin, sucking lightly. when satoru yanks your hair to get your attention, you look up with innocent eyes, noticing his creased brow and flushed cheeks.

“o-okay, princess. don’t get me hard again, fuck.”

— GETO SUGURU.

“i don’t care, babygirl,” suguru murmurs, voice hushed against your inner thighs. “seats are waterproof, did it myself.”

“i-i don’t wanna mess up your car, suguru,” you grit your teeth, sounding distressed at the thought of him not eating you out and also because you’re worried about soaking the leather.

“trust me, sweetheart. just relax, and enjoy yourself.” suguru’s reassurance has your limbs loosening, once racing mind finally slowing down. his large fingers push inside you, and all you can do is whine his name.

sometimes, on occasion, when he would eat you out, you’d squirt all over the place. when he’d practically ripped off your shorts and panties after you’d been fooling around together in the backseat, you realized what could happen. his seats are leather, in pristine condition. you wouldn’t want to destroy them by squirting all over, right?

“squirt all over me, and the car.” suguru demands, lightly slapping your fluttering pussy.

you moan, pushing a hand into his unbound hair and pulling as you push his face into your pussy. your heart’s pounding in your ears when he moans into you, fingers curling deep as he sucks your clit roughly.

“sugu, harder!”

suguru obliges, scalp tingling from how hard you’re yanking on his hair. his free hand rests on your thigh, tensing slightly as he keeps your trembling legs open.

the car is warm, and you feel dizzy as your orgasm builds beneath his harsh tongue. your tits jolt when your back straightens, white hot pleasure zapping through you like lightning. suguru stops curling his fingers against your g-spot, and starts to scissor them in and out of you.

“suguru!” you squeal above the squelching, wet sounds of your fluttering pussy, “mmmh, i think ‘m gonna—”

“do it for me, baby,” suguru groans, looking up at you from where he’s positioned himself at your pussy.

all you can do is moan, head falling back when the tension and pressure inside you finally reaches its limit. liquid gushes out of you, spraying all over suguru’s face and dampening his hair, along with the leather of the seats around you.

your chest heaves as your eyes open, gasping at the sight before you. your boyfriend and his seats are covered in your squirt, and he’s leaning towards your pussy again to lick up the mess.

“mm mm,” he forces your legs open when you try to close them in an effort to deter overstimulation, “you’re gonna do that for me again, sweetheart.”

— NANAMI KENTO.

“ken— kento!” you wail as he tosses your legs to the sides, opting to jerk his hips up into you after you said you were getting tired.

“shh, it’s okay, angel. i’ll fuck you till you fall asleep on the ride home.”

you and kento had been driving back from a dinner date across the city when his hand on your thigh slipped beneath your skirt. he was driving, and rubbing your clit until you were squirming and cumming in your panties.

“oh, don’t stop!” your chest heaves, mouth falling open in shock at the rush of overwhelming pleasure coursing through each and every one of your veins. your mind and thoughts are entirely jumbled, centered around kento only: his heavy breaths, the way he feels inside you, his body, his face, twisted in pleasure..

“fill me up ‘nd make me yours,” tears flow down your face after a few particularly hard thrusts into the deepest places inside of you.

“i absolutely will, angel,” kento grunts, his voice raspy as he arches beneath you, hands flying to your hips to keep you in place on his cock.

beads of sweat roll down his temples as he looks up at you, breathless at the sight of your beautiful face. you don’t even notice, too enraptured by his thick cock head punching into your g-spot.

“ngh, cumming.” he can barely choke out anything else as his spine straightens and his hot cum pours inside of you. you’re breathless as you pull his sensitive cock from your hole, positioning yourself on your hands and knees.

“angel?” kento sits up slowly, disappointed he’s no longer inside you. “what’re you thinking?”

“jus’ want a taste, ken.” and with that you’re licking his cum and your wetness from his cock, and he finds it so nasty yet so fucking sexy at the same time.

— FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“already told you to take it deep, princess. don’t make me help you, i’m fuckin’ driving.” toji grunts, both hands white knuckled on the wheel as you choke on his cock, taking it deeper into your throat.

spit drips down the small bit of his length that you can’t fully fit into your mouth, pooling at the base before further trickling to his balls. you feel the car speed up when his big palm lands on top of your head, and he pushes down slightly.

“this ‘s how i want you suckin’ my cock,” toji hisses, briefly yet harshly slamming you up and down on his lap. you gag, spit bubbling from the corners of your mouth and pouring onto him.

you try to nod in understanding but he pushes you all the way to his base until you whimper out a “yes, toji.” using your mouth like this after you’d mouthed off to him all day is just too fucking good, he thinks, smirking faintly as he looks out at the road.

like a good girl, you suck him exactly the way he showed you, gripping the arm rest for support as you bob your head on him. toji’s thighs tense, and the car speeds up further.

“take it just like that, doll..” he rasps before chuckling, “shit, nghh, i’m gonna have to pull over.”

before he can even finish what he’s saying the signal’s on and he’s cutting across a few lanes, rushing to pull over before he ends up explaining to the insurance company that he was getting a blowjob while driving. behind you, other vehicles honk loudly, tires scraping to a halt as this asshole finally makes it to the side to pull over, wheels hitting the curb.

the jolt of the car has you gagging, his cock going down your throat. toji’s fingers slip into your hair, twisting it as he drags you up and down his cock mercilessly. tears pour down your cheeks as you look up at him; his face is scrunched in pleasure, free hand gripping the door.

“swallow it all,” is all he can get out as hot cum shoots out of his cock, filling your throat. when he feels your throat squeezing him as you swallow, his deeper groans start to get just a little higher.

toji doesn’t let you pull away until his cock is throbbing with overstimulation, and you’re both thoroughly fucked out. he exhales before sucking in a breath, sounding exhausted. but he turns towards you, arching a brow as a smirk finds its way onto his face.

“get in the backseat, doll. gotta show you how much of a good girl you’ve been.”

— KAMO CHOSO.

“oh god, oh god— your pussy feels so fucking good!” choso babbles, hips snapping into you as your name falls from his lips over and over again.

the fingerprints on the car window smear as your hands slide down the glass, fingers curling into your palms. tears well in your eyes, close to spilling down your face; it’s too much and not enough.

“choso,” you murmur, cheeks burning with heat as you decide to experiment with some dirty talk. “y-your cock’s perfect for me, baby.”

the brunet whines loudly, blood pounding in his ears as he desperately fucks you, ready to fill up your perfect pussy. sometimes, choso feels like it’s his, but he’s too shy to even ask you or tell you it’s his. instead, he opts to say something a little simpler, fucking you faster and deeper to spur himself on.

“fuckkk.. you’re mine, aren’t you?” he means to sound domineering and strong, but he just sounds needy and in need of some affirmation. luckily, you don’t hear him too clearly.

“what was that, cho?” you bite down on your lower lip, hoping to silence your own sounds to hear him better this time.

a switch flips and choso’s mumbling your name, wrapping an arm around your middle as his muscled chest presses into your back firmly. his hand slides towards your throat, gripping slightly as he groans into your ear.

“i said you’re mine,” a harsh nip to your shoulder has you crying out and shaking beneath him, gripping onto the car door tightly as your pussy squeezes down on him.

choso recognizes the signs of an impending orgasm, drawing his hips back and slamming forwards deeply, heavy balls smacking into your clit. “c-cum on me, baby..” he whispers, barely holding it together.

your knees nearly collapse beneath you when you cum with a sharp whine, hole clenching and drawing out his own orgasm. choso spills inside of you with a choked groan, back to his mumbling about how good you feel as he rides it out.

“thank you,” he falls on top of you with a shaky sigh, obviously tired. his weight has you falling too, the both of you coming together to cuddle in the backseat, staring at the smeared, dirty glass.

“you know, baby, i’m never cleaning those sexy handprints off.”

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