#and use heat on your hair without asking

[wormshirt]

My hair is so dry and floppy it doesn't stick up anymore I love love love winter but my hairrr :( <- completely ignoring the absolutely insane amount of split ends I have because I don't know how to deal with them but don't trust hairdressers with my hair.

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[pearlywritings]

Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the shits. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.

[screampied]

‘ SAVE A HORSE, MILK A . . DEMON ?! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. who would’ve known the king of curses can lactate? not you and certainly not him. this is dire, he needs help but more importantly - he needs you.

warnings. fem! reader, heian era, vırgin sukuna, pùssy drunk sukuna, established relationship, unprotected, láctation (sukuna), we literally milk him, squırting, nıpple play, brēeding, brief ōral (f! receiving), premature ejac, overstim, praise.

wc. 5.7k

an. elaborating more on here. need him so bad

“you, c’mere,” you pause dead in your tracks, feeling a bit special that the sukuna ryomen, your worthy king was seeking out for you. his voice was loud, it rang through the walls of his kingly chambers before huffing out a single breath. he rests on his throne - bawled fist smushing into the edge of his cheek and he grumbles. “quickly, woman. close the door behind you.”

without replying, you do as you’re told. closing the old wooden doors, they shut with a bang. the demon’s eye twitches and he does a quick scan around his domain — empty, good. “are you okay, my lord?” you break the silence with glossed eyes, gazing how his body language was more awkward than normal. he lets out a blow, flushed face growing heated the second your mouth opens. crimson red eyes peer into you and his hair was a bit more ruffled - sukuna’s kimono was halfway on and he looked like he was burning up.

“what do you think?” he snarls, and he rolls his eyes before staring at the ground. “tch, anyways. i . . require your pathetic aid, brat. i don’t ask for anything but—”

“just tell me what’s wrong.”

with a abrupt scoff, he yanks off the silky woven fabric of his kimono - callused fingertips brushing against the material. your eyes ogle at the sight he’s showing you, his exposed body. you’ve seen him shirtless countless of times but this time, it was different. the second your eyes rover toward his swollen perky nipples, you see it. pearly remnants of white droplets seep from him and you hold back a sheepish snort.

“oh,” and you’re stunned, hearing him groan. although it didn’t sound like an irritated groan as usual—it sounded more pleasurable. sukuna buries his sharp fingertips into his thigh before you inch closer, softening your voice. “my lord. are you . . lactating?”

there’s a long pause—his chest huffs and his pink cheeks puff out. the more you laid your eyes on him, the more embarrassed he became.

the air surrounding the both of you suddenly felt hot, and with one of his hands, he tightens his grip against his throne’s armrest. “no, i don’t even know what this is,” he gruffs, and his breath hitches once you come closer to fully examine him. your eyes skim down every part of his body. with his kimono hanging onto him by a thread, it’s almost falling off his body. you gaze at his perfectly sculptured body. his muscles—you could stare all day if you really wanted. people would kill to be this close to the king, and yet here you were. his pecs seemed a bit tender from appearance and his entire body was sheeny, covered with a shiny coat of sweat. his ancient tattoo markings that paint his skin—they were glowing a bit too, glowing an almost crystalline color. “tch. stop starin’ at it. it’s creepin’ me out.”

“sorry,” you hum, but you don’t lose sight at all. you couldn’t. averting your eyes back toward the problem, as you spoke—each nipple was leaking with creamy substance. “um, so how long has this been happening, my lord?”

sukuna slumps back against his throne in exhaustion. he’s breaking an entire cold sweat and his mind was in a literal euphoric daze.

his entire body feels like it’s sweltering with heat, it’s purely indescribable. but it feels good.

it takes him a good seven seconds before he finally murmurs out a hoarse reply. “ugh, it maybe started about a hour ago,” and he pauses, gnawing down on his bottom lip. you watch and you couldn’t lie—seeing him like this, so vulnerable and desperate—it did something to you. you’re so used to a ruthless cold-hearted king, it’s like this current sukuna was an entire different person, an imposter. briefly, ruby-red eyes meet back toward you. “just make it stop. please.”

“what—” you murmur, and your wrist was gently pulled upon. you don’t pull away from his grasp and he leads your hand closer toward his chest. his entire abdomen, it was so warm. sukuna was burning up, and now that your fingertips were brushing up and down against his skin, he was even hotter.

“don’t say anything, woman,” he curses, shame tremoring underneath his husky tone.

sukuna ryōmen was embarrassed, and his awkward body language was a dead giveaway.

the past hour was absolute hell for him, ironic considering. you can hear him panting between broken sentences before he lightly squeezes your wrist. “touch me. i think physical touch might h- help,” he grunts a stammer, back pressing into his steel made throne. “i read somewhere that you might ease my um . . issue if you touch me.”

“you mean ease your lactating?” you tease, taking the opportunity to get right on his lap. at the second you do, his breath hitches. the audacity, your legs wrap around his slim torso before meeting his glossed gaze.

sukuna grimaces. “don’t call it that, brat,” sucking his teeth in annoyance, he rests back against his kingly seat, eyeing you cautiously. a few of his arms grab ahold of your waist, pulling you closer. his pecs tense up at the proximity of bodies closing the remaining distance. his nipples were even more swollen by this point, and you couldn’t help but stare—gawk at the uncanny sight right in front of you. “but yeah. just do something.”

with the demon right underneath you, you felt him shiver once you scoot up against his lap. tresses of pink spiked hair were unkempt, sticking to his forehead as he’s just bathing in his own sweat. this entire situation had him hot, but your touch was only going to make it so much worse. he swallows the circular lump that forms in his throat only to then grow quiet as he watched you lower your head toward his chiseled pecs.

he’s so toned, you spot a few prodding veins roam down each of his four arms—perfectly coating his body along with his scars and ancient notorious marks. sukuna’s entire body was a canvas that you didn’t mind exploring. his entire body was painted either markings, you just wanted to see more of him.

the inside of his royal chambers was quiet, deadly quiet.

so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

“may i?” you murmur, using the padded print of your thumb to gingerly smear the dripping substance that leaks from his nipple. the way it poured out of him so effortlessly, it was so lewd.

you knew judging from his changing breath patterns that his pecs were where he was most sensitive. it wasn’t exactly rocket science.

although it’s the heian era—most would have took sukuna as a king who’s had his fair share of women. he has, but never anything intimate. he was secretly sensitive and shy, and furthermore, even touch alone was enough to get him off. with you though, he never minded your touch. it was his favorite.

“hmph. do your w- worst,” the demon grumbles, trying to have a bit of attitude but it’s clear he’s already wrapped around your pretty little finger.

he called you out of all his other servants and concubines for a reason. to him, he didn’t see you as either role, but rather just a human.

his human, maybe even his favorite.

at his bellowing comply, you bring your lips closer toward his chest. with hooded eyes—he ogles at the sight, his throne occasionally creaking at the moving pounds of weight that’s creating pressure.

as your head goes further into him, you do the least thing he’d expect. you latch your lips against his right nipple. sukuna lets off a throaty gasp, feeling your warm welcoming lips cling onto his pec with such ease.

“ugh, brat,” he groans, burying a few darkened nails into his left knee. it was tame—it was tame until your tongue decided to feature itself in, flicking slowly against his leaking nipple. you moan, fluttering your lashes shut as you savor the creamy taste that trickles its way into your mouth. “fuck, i said touch not s- suck.” and he finds himself pulling you closer, using a hand to cradle the back of your head. he’s never felt such a feeling. his pec was positioned right in your mouth and it felt so good.

you lean into his touch, sliding your twitching tongue in different directions purposely just to feel him squirm.

one of his arms drags you tighter, wrapping around your torso as you occupy your mouth.

the taste was sweet, it’s as if this entire thing was some sort of fantasy. of course—you had lots of questions, for starters—since when can demons lactate? rephrase that, since when can sukuna ryōmen lactate? but you were more of the ‘do first ask later’ type considering you were too busy to even ponder more of the thought.

sukuna bites his lip, feeling a strain in his boxers as he hears the occasional pops and slurrrrps of your mouth. “y- you’re fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, but his voice cracks, butchering his once intimidating delivery entirely.

nasty but he didn’t want you to stop,

nasty but he felt himself getting hard the more you grind against his lap,

nasty but he’s holding back his needy bratty moans by biting his fangs down on his tongue.

sukuna purses his arched pink brows together into a frustrated furrow as his head tosses itself back. within seconds, you taste more of the candied flavor — it’s almost got a bit of a bittersweet honey taste to it. it sprinkles onto your sensitive taste buds and your eyes squeeze a bit, moving your head against each of his pecs to give them both equal amounts of attention. the demon’s nipples were even more red and swollen now, glimmering with your saliva dribbling from the centers. “hah, f- fuck,” he breathes, still maintaining a grip on the back of your head. you sit up to collect breaths yourself, licking your stained lips before he stares at you. his eyelids lower and he’s already whipped. “i— oh fuck.”

you raise a brow, opening your mouth to speak before you suddenly pause.

sukuna was quiet, too quiet.

with his kimono still half on, he’s practically shirtless. toned chiseled pecs stare at you right in the eye before you feel the heavy print of his dick directly underneath your shorts.

“my lord,” you sheepishly rub your neck, fingertips skimming against the few hairs that stand. there’s a certain wet spot that’s damp on the fabric of his lower clothing. your words were smooth, he could listen to you speak all day. with a smug smile curling against the corners of your lips, you throw your arms over his broad shoulders. “did you just . . cum?”

“nonsense,” sukuna denies you right away, the cutest grump of a pout stretching against his lips.

but, oh he did.

and it was a tough pill to swallow. sukuna, the sukuna who’s often known as his righteous title of being the king of curses, feared upon many, had just came. not only that, but he came from you sucking on his nipples. he came from the little problem he was currently having. out of all the enemies he’s beaten—this had to be the toughest one. he didn’t know how to deal with it nor did he know how to defeat it. the weakness was him.

and yet, that’s why he called you.

the feeling of your warm rotund lips attached to his nipples, he already missed it. it’s been seconds since you pried your mouth away and he missed it so bad. the way you sucked against his tender skin, your hot breaths fanning into his skin, making him even more hot.

sukuna was having withdrawals of you and your tongue slowly lapping up the excess ‘milk’ that dribbled out of each nipple.

this was crazy,

this is crazy.

he’s a demon for crying out loud—he’s never heard of demons doing such things. lactation. what even is lactation? sukuna knows such an activity was for women, not him.

but here he was, weak and panting like a dog, all for more of your beloved touch.

sukuna’s lying back, staring at you with docile blown irises—he’s at his worst, clammy hands never leaving the sides of your waist.

“fine. i . . came,” he murmurs in defeat, taking every spare second to gasp for air.

he’s drowning in sweat, probably drowning in his own heat too. with a pout continuing to compress across his lips, his voice lowers. but once you prepare to sit up, he lightly grabs your wrist. “fuck, don’t go yet,” he utters, knowing you did your part successfully in helping him. he hated how he was suddenly so weak, so dependent, so . . . submissive.

after all, you did help ease him a bit— although he was still begging for more.

it was as if some sort of sorcery spell was casted on him. this was a curse, yeah it had to be.

to sukuna, it couldn’t have been a more reasonable explanation. you peer at him as he speaks and he’s trying to find the exact right words without embarrassing himself. there’s a scowl that continues to marinate agaunst facial features before he sighs. “i- there’s somethin’ else,” he admits, hanging his head down in ignominy. he’s annoyed, sukuna groans at the words that were hanging onto his teeth—trying desperately not to slip them out but he can’t take it anymore.

he wants you.

he needs you.

“since you helped with my . . situation, it’s made me a little um—famished.”

you gulp, barely catching on to what he was implying—yet with a blink of an eye, you then find yourself arched over the arm of sukuna’s throne.

“i’m so fuckin’ starved,” he grunts, using a hand to caress the bare skin of your exposed flesh. serrated fingertips lightly graze against you as he feels everywhere that’s presented to him. the palm of his hand feels all up and down your curves, taking in your gorgeous physiques. he wanted to touch you. sukuna was horrible at expressing his feelings—yet he found himself humping his pillow at the thought of you. he didn’t know how to voice how bad he wanted you, but now that this moment was finally here, he couldn’t waste anymore time.

you’re so pretty, especially in such a erotic position. it seems as though a wave of clouded lust wafts in the air. sukuna tugs on the hem of your shorts, so needy to get a taste. he was dehydrated—but not for water.

“please,” a husky low voice pleads, groans and groans scratching out of his throat. you decide to tease him, wriggling your ass in the air right in front of his face before he hisses. “tsk. such a brat.”

“go ‘head.” you mumble, clinging onto the edge of the throne for support.

your positioning was a bit awkward but you made it work. you bury your head into your arms before he shifts—sitting up to prop himself right against you from behind.

sukuna wastes no time, dragging your shorts to your knees before scoffing at your laced panties. so soaked, his tongue eagerly licks against his lips as if it was natural animal instinct.

you weren’t just soaked, you were sopping.

he saw the dampened fabric and couldn’t help but lean in—placing his tongue right against the wet spot that formed. “ngh,” he purrs, and you feel the texture of his forked tongue tickle against your protected clit. you moan, biting back on your incoming words and growls before he gives your sloppy entrance a chaste kiss. “god, w- what’s wrong with me. i feel so hot.”

pathetically, he’s stammering out a bunch of words as he slowly laps his tongue against your sobbing cunt. sukuna grumbles in exasperation at how your panties got in the way of his ‘meal’ but literally forgot he had to actually pry take them off of you.

he was lazy though — so instead, he easily pulls them to the side to get a better and wetter view.

“so sloppy,” he snickers, admiring the way you’re dribbling with slick. it’s so ethereal, nothing like he’s ever seen before. a translucent tint colors down your drooling folds and you gasp once he starts to suck against your pussy. almost immediately, you throb right in his mouth and he feels the greeting pulse. “mhh—stay still, let me eat p-please.”

sukuna sounds so desperate—you don’t think you’ve ever heard your king beg.

he wasn’t begging for forgiveness, to cleanse sins, nothing of the sort. but alas, instead, he was just begging for pussy.

your pussy.

he couldn’t help it, especially when you tasted so good. your flavor was something he severely dreamt of devouring.

you might have just been his favorite for a reason. sukuna groans as his tongue maneuvers in multiple directions near your clit until he slurps vigorously against your tender labia. “fuck, m- my lord,” you whine, the stickiness between your thighs soaking more onto your skin.

you were dripping like a faucet, and it doesn’t take that long before his entire chin gets coated with your syrupy arousal.

it’s to no one’s surprise really, and he doesn’t even mind. he’s honored, lapping it up with his tongue before blowing his warm breath against your spiraling convulsing cunt. your breath continues to hitch and hitch as he dives his deeper. the button tip of his nose swipes back ‘n forth against your folds and you whimper.

he’s slurping you clean, through and through. sukuna’s got two wide hands to spread your ass apart more, delving his long pink tongue back and forth between your puffed entrance—you whimper out his regal title of his name and it falls off your tongue in such a sweet way every time. “y- your tongue’s so long, fuck. right there, don’t stoppp.”

but tasting you wasn’t enough - he wanted more.

strings of your webby slick entangle with his saliva as he suddenly departs his lips away. he’s gasping for air, swiping a tongue near your puckering hole before spitting right on it. a hand feels against your twitching cunt before he spanks it — his palm now coated with your slick.

you were sopping wet, and with how you just spurt on his hand, he wanted to make you wet even more.

it’s slow,

he watches with hooded eyes as your soddened entrance gets soaked and even more drenched. all from his hands and tongue. you could only imagine what he actually felt like from the inside.

“more,” was all he could moan out, and his pecs started to feel tender again.

his body was so strange—there’s a weird sensation that’s tingling in every part of him but it feels good.

you pout once he abruptly stops eating you out, only for him to flip you over. facing him and back on his lap, you’re met with the hungry eyes of a demon who wants more than just a taste.

he wants you.

with the help of his arms, he positions you upright on his lap again. you’re straddling him—but the difference was that you didn’t have any shorts on from before. “i- i want you to ride me, woman. can you do that?” and you can hear the faint plead in his voice—he looks desperate, he was breaking more sweats as each second passes.

“yeah,” you hum, cupping his face.

the demon surprisingly leans into his touch. the warmth of your palms made his heart stir into mush. a hand of his reaches down to play with the string of your panties that was shoved to the side but with quick reflexes—you grab his wrist. “nuh uh,” and he scowls, watching as you use your other hand to spring out his achy cock. “no touching just yet.”

he bares a fang at you. the nerve, if it was anyone else it’d be off with their head in an instant. but to sukuna, he found your teasing behavior to be quite . . cute.

of course, he’d rather perish than admit that thought to your face. just like how he secretly fantasizes about you but— he wants to keep at least some pride, even if it’s just a little.

“keh, you’re getting cocky, brat. remember your place,” he grouses, pink brows tugging amongst each other. his pout never left him and it only made him more adorable. sukuna’s eyes flicker down at your hand that’s now wrapped around his length. he swallows thickly, a breath of fresh air leaving from his full lungs. “hurry up. don’t got all da—”

“you talk too much,” you press your palm over his mouth, silencing the remaining of his sentence.

you’re met with a stone cold glare—but his vexed gaze gradually turns into a look of desired pleasure once you’re aligning yourself on his leaky tip.

his lips were so close to your palm - out of nowhere, you then feel his tongue lick against your hand. you refrain from giggling before feeling his angered tip slowly start to insert its way inside. the stretch, he’s so thick that your mouth drops open and you moan. he’s finally going inside—it’s better than he thought it would be. you’re so hot inside and it’s got his head spinning. gnawing on the skin of your lip, you let off a soft shaky whine. “fuck, you’re so big.”

he shakes his head, making you loosen your grip against his mouth before he boasts loudly. “heh, of course i’m big. you wouldn’t last a second with both of my cocks. i’d break you in hal— shit.”

he’s cut off by the rudeness of your cunt. you sink down on him and his tip poked a certain area inside of you that scratches your brain.

you bite back an incoming moan as your swollen cunt constricts around his length invitingly. his tip blushes inside—you reel into him, an attempt to steady yourself before already gasping for air.

the girthy stretch was immaculate, the base of his cock was tannish and already preparing itself to be milked. sukuna had a bit of a hooked curve. you felt it and you felt the stretch.

it was purely appetizing, almost drool worthy. just a few seconds in and he was already rearranging your insides. as you’re trying to start up a pace, you don’t know why but the thought of taking both of sukuna’s cocks made you a lot more wetter than you thought it would.

he’s mentioned it at least once or twice and you knew for a fact he probably would break you. there’s no probably, he really would. the demon was twice your size—alas anything was possible.

you lean in for a kiss and he instantly responds by returning the gesture. you taste so flavorsome and sweet - his tongue swirls against the lip gloss that paints on your mouth before he groans.

with lips moving in syncing tavern, you start to rock your hips a bit quicker.

the creaking of his throne gets louder until it’s just echoing, bouncing off the ancient walls of his chambers.

your cunt was just being ravaged by his hefty size, he’s just so big that you could barely even keep up your hips at first. sukuna’s hands—all of his hands roam over your body, clinging onto your hips and even a few feel near your chest. he gives your breasts a soft squeeze, a few thumbs toying with your perky nipples that poke out through the wooly-made blouse you were.

“f- fuuuck,” he swears between hot kisses, clawing a hand at your back.

as you rode him, his heartbeat starts to accelerate. you were a menace, rutting clashing hips gave him whiplash as the minutes pass. you were coating him in a mess of your own. sappy strings of your juices form into a saturated web with his own colorless mess that resides near his thickset base. you’re being so stretched. you cup his face once more whilst tongues fight and fight for dominance and tango together.

above him—you’re just a puddled mess.

sukuna couldn’t keep his hands off you no matter how hard he tried.

strained inhales escape out of him while he breaks away from kisses every few seconds. you were addicting - addictive.

his velvet red lips were all swollen and pursed up from your kisses and he’s desperately yearning for more of your syrupy forbidden taste. you were sweet, but your pulsating cunt was even sweeter.

with a quick piston of his hips, you felt your body jolt up. “hngh,” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad neck once more. from the neck down, his entire body was lathered with perspiration. sukuna was already feral, his hair was a mess and his fangs stuck out from his lips as he lies back. he hits every part of you so good, every single spot.

you’re struck in awe at how well his cock carves its way through your insides so perfectly, so thoroughly. it knows exactly where to go, never once missing the crevices of your pussy. despite having little to no experience—you could say he was definitely a quick learner. sukuna’s cock french kisses against your g-spot a plethora of times, creating a sloppy trail of them to send every part of your body butterflies. “ ‘m getting close, ‘kuna.”

“tsk. it’s still ‘my lord’ to you,” he corrects.

yet even though he’s trying to keep his cold façade - he’s failing miserably. sukuna’s bottom lip quivers as he cups your chin, hearing the filthy weeping squelches of your cunt grow louder. with each thrust, it gets more blaring to his ears and he groans at the tenderness he’s constantly feeling. “but ‘m gettin’ close too. so f- fuckin’ close.”

you hear how his voice shakes — his irises, they’re dilating from how you’re intently staring back.

but oh, he’s whipped.

a pair of hands grip onto your waist tightly, encouraging you to create more haste with your movements. your body swerves in swift arcs, feeling the sudden lock occur in your knees that’s buried into his thighs. he’s hitting you deep and he’s hitting you raw. you blabber out a few whimpers before slumping into his chest.

“fuck, fuck,” you sob out, reaching a hand down to spread two fingers against your pearled clit. you were throbbing, a sheath of your arousal then starts to cover his entire length the more you bounce. your folds were weeping as you grinded further against him. but as you’re chasing your incoming high, you lean in toward his pecs, taking one of his sensitive nipples into your mouth again.

and sukuna does the one thing you never thought he’d ever do.

he whimpers.

it sounds so pretty - so harmonic.

it’s like it happens on random—out of nowhere, he starts to lactate again. the familiar taste from earlier cascades down on your tongue and you suck a bit harder, moaning against his sensitive skin.

the jittery vibrations of your noises makes him groan, awkwardly ruffling your hair. “hah, g- good girl. milk me, that’s it. jus’ like that, keep going.”

and your hips slow down a bit so you can get a good angle. as you come to a brief stop, your body acclimates against him, but even still—you had a lot to get used to, especially with how well he stretched you out.

it’s pouring out a lot now, a bit of it starts to dribble down your chin and he just watches.

his cock twitches at the sight and you feel it from the inside. both bodies move rhythmically against each other and it feels like momentarily bliss.

your hand still has itself occupied between your thighs, playing with yourself to quicken your release.

it was right there, right at the tip of your tongue. sukuna moves a few strands of hair out of your face as you sucked against each pec. as he silently watches, if you squint you could see heart eyes forming in his pupils.

his nipples had so many nerves - so many nerves that he felt.

“god,” he curses, his thigh starting to bounce. you both were close, so so close.

sukuna feels his body temperature grow hotter the more your tongue whisks against each tender nub. it spills down the crevices of your lips. again, he’s just thinking how such a thing was even possible. you were so unapologetically messy too, he used a thumb to swipe the milky dripping substance away from the fissures of your plump lips.

you moaned, the stimulation of your cunt adequately sucking him dry continuously making you more and more aroused.

leisurely, an unpredictable wave of electricity prepares itself as you’re rutting into him on constant repeat. your unsteady rhythm had his jaw locked and he could barely utter out any final words at the moment because your pussy had him so utterly drunk.

the epitome of pussy drunk,

you finish first and it’s like you were shooting actual blanks.

your mind goes dimwitted as you’re gushing all over his cock, covering him in your obscene filth. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper out in a whine of individual babbles and doing so, your hips pick up again its recent speed. just for a moment. he groans at the skin against skin contact, throwing his head back and his adam’s apple bobs. it’s such a sight, you throbbed right between your legs.

sukuna crudely spanks your ass, his palm leaving a temporary sting before he squeezes it, admiring the precious recoil.

it takes you a second to realize you’re squirting. you were already dumb, but once you’re finally succumbing to pleasure, your mouth opens. “oh my goddd.” you elongate your moans, dragging out your sweet melodic words. your walls were preparing to wring him dry. from the inside—they cling onto him tight like velcro, you were attached and there was no pulling you off.

as you moan out your final vehement whines, you go back to sucking on his tender nipples and now . . . it was his turn.

“y’ jus’ squirt all over me ‘n ya still haven’t had enough,” he whews, his cock repeatedly and rigorously punctuating each single thrust. there’s a ringing in his ears, it’s loud and deafening. sukuna’s eyes grow droopy at the mere feeling and repetitive sounds of skin slap slap slapping every few seconds.

“ ‘m gonna cum—” and he pauses, gingerly pulling your head up so you can face him directly. your hips start to slow down again but it’s still got somewhat of a fair pace. with his bottom lip poking out, he’s still pouting visibly. “oi, brat. i- i can finish inside, huh? wanna fill you up. ‘m burnin’ up, fuck.”

you give him a nod, savoring his frosted taste that’s still remaining to drizzle onto your tongue.“mhm,” and as you’re still very much sensitive yourself, you slowly jerk back and forth despite how your pace wasn’t as fast as it was before.

“fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much,” he grunts, dewy lips mashing together as he spoke. he was so full and yet he had so much to give. sukuna feels himself grow inside you from each pump, he’s so thick that you’re just wholly tongue-tied.

the muscles in his abs tense and tighten before he grabs the fat of your ass with a single bare hand. “shit shit, take it all. take it all please.”

and at his feeble pulse, the moment finally comes where he shoots inside.

sukuna collapses back into his throne, bringing an arm hand toward himself to cover a broad hand over his face.

he grunts lowly into his palm and its sexy, his posture was so lazy and yet he was still so pent up. your limbs were just as limp as his, weak and defeated. a decent load of cum oozes into you raw and you gasp whilst his perky nipple was still in your mouth.

coincidentally enough, as he’s cumming—he ends up lactating at the same time too. more of his creamy substance pours onto your tongue while he’s pumping you full of satiny fresh ropes of sultry hot cum. it’s carnal.

you moan, losing yourself in such pungent nirvana as his taste suddenly turns sweeter.

sukuna was milked out entirely. he’s squeezing against your ass even tighter as he’s dumping such massive loads into your needy cunt. it was goopy—strings and strings of his cum tangle with your slick juices and you only imagined what it looked like up close. your hips moderately slow all the way until you’re just barely grinding against him now.

panting, you find yourself tracing the outline of his ancient tattoo markings with the tip of your finger.

your touch, by this point he was gonna cum again.

it’s a lot. actually, saying it was a lot was a bit of an understatement.

you don’t register how much he’s flooded into your pussy until you finally pry your mouth away from his chest, looking down at the impure sight.

so much, your entrance was filled to the very brim with such a nice amount, sweltering from the outside of your folds.

“you’re really sensitive,” you breathe, numbing thighs of your own gluing together against him. you didn’t want to move because it would spill out but it did anyway. a few wads of creamy ropes dribble down your swollen slit and you watch, scrapping a bit of it up with your thumb. “mmm,” you coo out, shoving and smearing the sticky strands of filth back inside. you felt so full, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more stuffed. the base of his cock was gummed with your slick along with a concoction of his own miry mess.

as you’re still trying to recollect breaths, you plant a kiss near the corner of his lips, watching it twitch at your touch. “my lord, you did so good. i didn’t think you’d cum from just getting milked.”

“s- sukuna,” he whines out his name as a form of correction. doing so, you lean into his touch once he cups your chin for the nth time.

his hold on you was always gentle—he’s got the most neediest look in his eyes, longing for you to continue to ‘aid’ him of his problem.

you worn him out— not only that but you milked him for all he was worth and yet he was still cumming.

“jus’ call me sukuna,” and your heart flutters at the sudden privilege. you’re still straddling him, keeping his cock warm before he leans in for a kiss.

you thought it was a kiss but instead, he inches his face toward your chin before lolling out his long forked tongue, licking the remaining excess milk that was running down your chin from earlier. “call me sukuna, mistress . . please.”

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Rough Sex w/ MW2

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Smut, Rough Sex, Restraining, Stomach Bulging, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Punishment, Use of a Strap-On, Implied Blow Job, Possessive Sex, Dehumanisation, Slut Shaming, Reader Blaming, Hair Pulling, Slight Dumbification, Blood, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Just a stupid little whore, aren’t ya,” Simon growled as he pounded you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that phantom bruises descended upon your skin. The slickness of your abused hole did little to numb the pain of Simon’s rapid, unrelenting pace, of his engorged tip slipping deeper and deeper inside you, plugging you, making any form of escape from your impending unravelment impossible.

You could feel his cock, hot, heavy and ravenous, pulsating inside you, bringing you to the edge of electric euphoria with every thrust. 

“Good for nothin’ except takin’ my cock.” He spat, his hand sliding up your spine and rooting itself in your hair. He gripped at the base and pulled your head back, hissing in your ear.

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him you were his, only his, but the words wouldn’t come out quick enough.

When you didn’t answer in time, he stopped. Pulled out, only the swollen tip remaining lodged inside.

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

You’d felt full before, but this sudden influx of skin and muscle and heat was too much. It knocked the air out of you, made you cry out as Simon sank balls-deep inside you, impaling your shuttering, wanting body on his dick. He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

“That’s it,” he said as you whimpered, cried out. “Take it — take it like the slag you are.”

König

“You wanted this – you wanted me to take you. Fucking attention whore,”

König’s voice reached depths you didn’t think possible as he bounced you on his cock, his stomach coated in your juices as he lay beneath you, thrusting up to plant as much of his member in the tight cavern of your hole as possible.

Even from where he lay, he could see the outline of himself within you. He twitched. Tried to stave off from painting your insides white for just a little longer.

You had no choice but to take it – your wrists bound behind your back with König’s belt – to take every inch of König’s cock.

He stretched you out to lengths you didn’t think possible as he pulled you down onto the base of his member, causing tears to stream down your face as he hit a sliver of you you didn’t think existed.

“God, you’re nothing without me,” he asserted, teeth gritted and restraint pushed to the very limit. “Nothing but a rag doll on the end of my dick – only made for me to use as I please.”

You knew it was true, especially with the coil within you verging on snapping, sending you over the precipice of ruin. König gave you a sly, thin grin.

“Nobody else can fuck you like this, can make you cry like this.” His grip on your waist proved he wasn’t lying, shortened nails leaving crescent indents in your skin.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

“Don’t tell me you’re cryin’ on me now, Darlin’,” Johnny said, not an ounce of sympathy or empathy in his voice. If anything, the realisation that you were just about holding on as he railed you from behind seemed to make him go faster, push harder, knocking his thick, meaty cock into you at a pace that could only be savage.

“C’mon, show me you can take it. I know you can,” he goaded — or perhaps encouraged. You couldn’t be so sure, especially as you could barely string a thought together, never mind the inclination to ask. He watched you, made dead eye contact with you through the mirror that put your undoing on display for him, his eyes piercing and ice.

At your silence, Johnny slapped your backside. Harsh. You yelped at the sting and jolted forwards, only for Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat and pull him back. His balls were flush against your backside, the tightness of your bodies together making him grunt.

“C’mon, mo ghaol — tell me how much you need this dick — show me how much you deserve it.” He squeezed your throat.

Valeria

“You were begging to be used by me — wearing those tight shorts like I wouldn’t notice.” Valeria punctuated her point with a harsh thrust, sending you banging against her desk, ribs aching, pressed against sleek wood. Everything hurt.

The strap-on she’d chosen was one she reserved only for correcting your most egregious behaviour. Apparently, this extended to your fashion choices, too.

“Trying to make my men lose focus, huh? Is that it?” The sound and sensation of your body welcoming the cruel length of her weapon made your cheeks flush and your hole clench, trying to pull it deeper, begging for punishment.

“Have I not given you enough attention? Or are you just hungry for anyone who lays eyes on you,”

You whimpered, trying to keep your head level as your girlfriend battered your insides with nothing less than animalistic fervour and rage.

“You wanna dress like a cheap whore,” she said, voice deep and husking as she lowered her lips to your ear. “Then I get to fuck you like one — my whore.”

Price

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you–”

He couldn’t stop – these last few hours with you would be all he had before he had to go on deployment again. And he was determined to make them count.

He’d stuffed himself into you, made light work of grinding your sanity down to its bare foundations as your body shook with the onset of another orgasm.

You were already so sensitive, every knock of his tip against your sensitive spot sending equal euphoria and pain through you.

“Gonna cum in you again,” he said, voice lethargic, words slurred like the blurring edges of watercolours. “Gonna get it as deep as possible. Want it still in you by the time I reach Base.”

The many loads of cum he’d already pumped into you weighed heavy in your belly, almost creating its own centre of gravity as you fought to keep your swollen stomach off the mattress. Anytime you failed, the sensitivity of your skin, the feeling of his load stagnant inside you, made you wince.

You could feel John’s cum leaking out of you as he plunged deep, deeper still, forcing his seed out of the small spaces which weren’t suffocated by his almost impossible girth. 

Horangi

“Been stretching you out for hours and you’re still- ngh— fuckin’ tight.” Hong-Jin said, almost as if chiding you. He grunted, balls-deep yet nowhere near satisfied, his resolve being milked from him.

“Gonna need to–” he grunted, “break you in,”

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. One that, despite not having the power of his whole length behind it, forced a strangled moan from you.

His breath caught as he felt himself slip into a deeper, darker part of you, one which seemed to try and reject him as your hole pulsed uselessly around him, as if to push him out.

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

“Doing so well for me, Love,” he groaned, slipping back in and re-establishing a rhythm. You mewled beneath him.

“God, you’re so good — just lying down and taking it – like my own personal fleshlight.”

Alejandro

“So this is why you’ve been acting so strange recently, hm?” Alejandro spoke between pants, arms at either side of your head, blocking off everything that wasn’t him. He gritted his teeth, grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him as he brutalised you with his savage pace, stretching you out and making your hole spasm around his cock.

“Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

You were all but drooling as Alejandro quite literally fucked you dumb, no thoughts in your head save for the desperate electricity between your legs.

When you didn’t answer — or rather couldn’t, for your mind was scarcely able to keep itself intact for the feeling of ruin rapidly descending upon you — Alejandro took your chin between his fingers and forced you to focus on him.

“Didn’t you.” He repeated. To that, the fire in his eyes, you managed a sloppy ‘yes’. Alejandro hummed, pressed himself closer, chest-to-chest.

“Don’t worry, Cariño — we’ve got all night to fuck that pretty little mouth back into working order.”

Rudy

Years of toil, training and discipline have shaped Rudy into the unsuspecting behemoth he is today; as was evident in the way you cried out when his dick skewered you, stretching you out and making your back arch against the mattress. He felt himself pressed to the wall of your abdomen as your stomach met his. He shivered.

“He can’t fuck you like this,” he said, voice low and seething, the intonation of a snake. His usual puppy-eyes were sharp, as if of a feline disposition. He watched you as your eyes, almost having rolled back into your skull, refused to meet his.

“Nobody can have you. You’re mine — only mine.” He slammed into you faster, giving you no preparation and only using the wetness already dripping from between your thighs there to slip in. 

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

Your mouth, agape with silent pain, released nothing. Rudy raised his hand, slapped you. You yelped, the sting sending a shock between your legs. You clenched around him. He growled, head dipping to your collarbone, where you could feel his breath, scorching and unrelenting.

“Let’s try this one more time,” he rasped. When he looked up, his eyes were black. Gone was the man you loved.

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

“You like bein’ used by me, don’t ya,” Graves panted, struggling to keep up with the pace of his own euphoria. He could tell you were close, too, from the way tears streamed down your cheeks and how you suctioned around him, pulling him deeper, pleading with him for more.

“Love bein’ my favourite little cum dump — so well-behaved, just for me.”

Nothing could be truer as you felt him thrusting into you at a speed that suggested anger. 

“Never be good for anything except taking my cock like a good slut.”

Your tongue lolled out from the corner of your mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets as Phillip allowed you your silence, especially considering how you’d earned it. Your obedience, your willingness to take everything he gave you. You scratched just the right part of Graves’ ego that had sustained him for this long.

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

Gaz’s change in personality, admittedly, frightened you. Especially as he stood over you now, having bound your hands together tied them over your head to the bed frame.

You’d tried encouraging him to just touch you already, to take you now as you were bound and helpless. Hell, you’d even ground yourself against his boot, working yourself up into a frenzy all in an effort to make him crack.

He didn’t.

“Oh no,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “You don’t get my dick yet.”

Already having used his belt to immobilise you, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers. Half-hard and beading at the tip, he eyed you, a cruel smile at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard,” he continued, taking you by the hair and forcing your lips to his pulsing member, watching your eyes widen. “That you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of the week.”

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[bpmiranda]

Can you write a Logan fic where he’s teaching reader about how he likes it in bed (daddy kink) ? Reader is innocent doesn’t know much about it. Love your work omg.

A/N: 18+ f!reader

Can I Teach You? (Logan Howlett) nsfw

“Yes, dad, I have everything for tomorrow.” Y/N was talking to her father on the phone while lying on her belly in Logan’s bed. Her ankles were crossed and she was examining her French manicure while he watched hungrily from the door. “Yes, I’ll call if there’s anything I need. Thanks again, dad!” She hung up and looked over at him with a small smile. “They think I’m at a friend’s for the weekend.”

“You need a ride for your internship tomorrow?” Logan asked, walking over and dipping the mattress with his knee as he hovered in front of her. Y/N bit her lip and shook her head as one of his hands came up under her chin to hold her up as he kissed her. Her knees came up underneath her to give herself more height, slowly kneeling on his bed with his help until she was at eye level with him which was an interesting change as she was about a foot shorter than him without her heels or platform shoes.

“Friend’s picking me up in the morning.” She murmured against his lips as he ran his hands along her body, stopping at her ass and squeezing harshly. “What?” She asked with a shy smile, very aware of his body language by now.

“I wanna try something different,” He murmured, kissing her jaw while sliding his hands up her blouse. Y/N shuddered at his slow touch and she scratched the back of his neck lightly with her fingernails. “You trust me, baby?” She nodded, biting her lip as she let him pull her shirt off, her breasts bouncing lightly as he released them from their thin cotton confinement. Her eyes followed his as he looked over every inch of her with a hungry look. “Look at you, pretty baby.” Logan sighed, growing hard in his jeans as he lightly ran a thumb over one of her nipples and the other cupped her other breast. While Y/N could feel herself growing wet from the intimacy, Logan could smell her, and it made him feral with lust. “You call him dad?” He asked suddenly and she furrowed her brows in question as he grabbed onto the back of her thigh and brought her leg up to lay her down. “Not daddy?”

Her cheeks heated up and she let out a small giggle. “Kind of grew out of that around ten years old.” She said as she let him lay between her legs and lift her skirt. A small gasp left her mouth as she felt his hard member against her panties.

“Would you call me daddy?” He asked, looking down at her expression as he rutted into her core, her clit ached for more, but she felt nervous.

They had fooled around before, but Y/N was still inexperienced aside from the things he did to her with his mouth and fingers. It definitely felt as if his intention was to go further today and to top it off also revealed a pretty taboo kink. “Is that what you like?” She asked, a hand pressing into his chest as he continued stimulating her with the hardened bulge in his jeans. Logan’s eyes darkened as he nodded and she let her head hang back as she focused on the pleasure growing between her legs. “That feels good, daddy.”

Logan let out a low growl from his throat as he continued rutting into her, watching her tits bounce with the force, and catching one of her soft mounds in his mouth. Y/N whimpered, pushing on his chest and pulling on his hair as he marked her skin and caused her panties to dampen. “You’re a quick learner, baby.” His hands pushed her panties to the side and she moaned as his fingers moved slowly through her, collecting her arousal and using it as lubricant to slide two thick fingers into her narrow opening. “Gonna let me teach you something?” Y/N nodded quickly, always so eager to please, and he knew that. “C’mere, baby.”

Logan had sat against the headboard and coaxed her onto his lap, letting her hover over him as he slowly rubbed the head of his cock through her sopping folds. Restraining himself had never been harder, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Her body was shaking as she held onto his shoulders, her head rolled back in ecstasy, tears prickling at her eyes each time he got snagged in her opening. “Oh, daddy, yes!” She gasped, the lower abdomen felt tight and she wanted so badly for the tightness to go away. “Yes!”

“You gonna cum, pretty baby?” Logan asked, knowing the answer, but loving when she told him, ‘yes, daddy, you’re gonna make me cum.’ “Think you can sit down for me?” He asked, holding his hard member directly under her and she whined, wanting so badly to finish. Logan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and she pouted. “C’mon now, none of that.” He warned and she nodded, fingernails digging into his shoulders as she slowly sunk down onto his thick shaft. Her mouth fell open as the girth of him stretched her out and she trembled violently, whimpering and gasping as he encouraged her with sweet words of, ‘you’re doing so good’ ‘doesn’t that feel good?’ ‘you’re such a tight fit, baby.’

Y/N perfectly molded into his body and he gave her a second before lightly patting her thigh. “Daddy, I can’t.” She cried into his neck. Logan was so thick and deep inside her, it was unlike anything she had ever felt before, a feeling somewhere between too painful to keep going and too good to quit.

“Why not, pretty girl?” He asked, caressing her back tenderly and kissing her shoulder.

“Hurts.” She whispered.

“That’s because it’s your first time.” Logan chuckled, moving his lips onto her neck and sighing as he inhaled her signature perfume. “Go on, baby, take it slow.” His large hands were now gripping her ass firmly underneath her skirt, guiding her as she lightly bounced on his lap. While it stung at first and she couldn’t stop whimpering, soon it began to feel like she couldn’t do without the feeling of him stuffed deep inside her and she began rocking her hips into his like a wave. “There you go, baby.” Logan moaned, letting his head lean back against the headboard as she continued, his fingers digging into her hips only to keep her in place. “Just like that, pretty girl.”

“Oh, oh my - oh my - God, daddy!” She cried out, her walls contracted like a boa around his cock and the way her clit rubbed against his abdomen repeatedly with the rut of her hips sent her barreling into an abyss of pleasure and she shook violently on his lap.

Logan was quick to take over and he wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face between her breasts, and growled as he fucked her down onto his throbbing shaft. “Fuck!” He yelled through gritted teeth as he busted his load inside her and she cried loudly, the feeling so filthy and messy as his spend dripped out of her and down his still-hard cock.

They were breathless, sweaty, as they made out in a post-orgasm haze. Her hands were cupping his bearded face as he kneaded her ass underneath her skirt, subtly moving her back and forth on his lap. “Mm, that felt really good, daddy.”

“There’s so much left to show you, pretty baby.” He said with a small smirk. “It’s a good thing we have all weekend.”

Wasn’t sure if you meant teaching reader that he has a daddy kink or teaching reader sex in general, but I hope this is close to what you wanted and that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it😁😅

[chxrryhansen]

okay but rafe shamelessly peeking up your skirt is something so personal to me

omg omg wait s1 golf frat boy rafe x cutesy kinda bimbo reader??? COUNT ME IN. p.s- i have no idea how to play golf so i wrote my best interpretation😭

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you sat in rafes private golf caddy watching as he lined up his next shot, his backwards cap keeping his hair out of his eyes and his muscular legs spread wide as he takes the shot.

rafe had asked (told) you to come watch him play, he thought it would be a cute date idea for you both to get out of the house since it was way too hot to stay cooped up inside all day… when in reality he just wanted to show off his skills and impress his girl.

“rafeeeeey.” you whined in a high pitch tone.

he turns to look back at you with a sour expression, wiping the sweat from his brows with one arm, using the other to lean against his golf club. “quit distracting me. what dya’ want?” he pants in the summer heat.

“i’m boreddddd” you moan again, standing from your seat in the cabby and bouncing over to him.

his free hand reaches out to grip your face, smushing your cheeks together tight “what’ve i told you about the whining? daddy’s tryna’ play a game here, sweetcheeks.”

you look up at him with big puppy dog eyes “can you teach me? please rafey…i’m so bored just sittin’ here, daddy please.”

he lets out an irritated groan, knowing you were too ditzy to understand how golf works and way too uncoordinated to actually putt a ball. he looks back at you giving you a once over, a smirk appearing on his face.

“you know what? sure pretty girl, c’mere.”

you yelp with excitement, moving to stand infront of him, your short pink skirt barely reaching your thighs as you bounce over and your tits jiggling, practically spilling out of your tight shirt.

rafe stands behind you as he passes you the golf club, quickly showing you the correct way to hold it before he moves onto your position. kicking your feet apart and pressing down on your back with his thick fingers, forcing you to arch your back as he bites his lip, his cock already growing hard.

“that’s it baby, stay just like that. now, lift your arm up like this, and strike.” you beam at him while he instructs you before focusing on the ball.

you raise your arm holding the club tight before you strike it. not even noticing rafe bending down slightly, his legs still spread wide around your figure and his fingers lifting your short skirt, peeking at your cute, pink panties underneath, he lets out a low “fuckkk.” at the sight, not loud enough for you to notice seeming as you were concentrating.

“rafey! look! i hit it. look how far it went!” you gasp, raising one arm to block the sun as you search for the ball with your eyes.

“yeah babe, daddy’s super proud of you.” he mutters, not paying attention to a word you said, instead focusing on the slightly damp patch on your panties.

he brings his thumb to your pussy, rubbing over the soaked material. your panties beginning to stick to your cunt as he thumbs your sensitive slit.

you whimper in surprise, your head spinning to look at him in shock. “daddy! wh-what are you doing?!” you hush, eyes wide, looking around quickly to see if anybody had noticed what he was doing, which they hadn’t… yet.

rafe hushes you before pulling your skirt back down and giving your ass a harsh smack. lifting up from his bent knees and looking down at you with a large smirk.

“nice panties, baby. where’d you get em?” he asks rhetorically, a sly smile appearing on his face.

knowing for a fine fact he bought them, as he does everything else, your clothes, food, shoes. you name it, he bought it. because that’s what wealthy daddy’s like him do. and rafe is without question, wholeheartedly, your daddy.

[imaginedisish]

One for the Road (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. This is so dirty, so nasty. Here is the *giving Logan head while he's driving* request. Thank you anon. Thank you so so much. Inspired by "One for the Road" by Arctic Monkeys. ENJOY!

Summary: Forty-five minutes is simply too long of a car ride for you to wait to take care of Logan...Or: you give Logan head while he's driving and he absolutely loses it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Sexually explicit content, Oral (f! and m!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), multiple orgasms, porn without plot (literally), car sex, rough sex, Logan is reckless, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, aftercare, established relationship, f!reader/afab!reader, reader has hair (but length/texture/color are not described), cursing, def some grammatical errors, that's it.

Word Count: 2,269 it's all smut im sorry yr honor but I need him

Logan wants nothing more than to be home. He wants to grab you by the hand, take you up to bed, and hold you until you and he fall fast asleep. This, unfortunately, is not something Logan can do. Instead, Logan’s eyes are trained ahead of him—occasionally flickering to look at you—as he drives carefully through dark, winding roads. 

The only silver lining is that you’re in the seat next to him, leaning towards him. You rest your arm on the center console, silently asking Logan to inch closer, too. He obliges, lifting his right hand from the steering wheel and bringing it down to grip your thigh. He squeezes gently, his thumb dipping between your legs, drawing long, slow circles to the sensitive skin there. 

Heat rises to your chest as his thumb climbs higher, nudging against the hem of your shorts. You can feel that familiar tension building at the base of your spine, the bottom of your belly. You try to ignore it, but you look over to Logan’s lap, and you see that he’s half hard and growing, the beginnings of his erection straining through his jeans.

“How much longer until we get back?” You ask, weighing your options. 

Logan’s eyes drift from the road to you, his hand giving your thigh another light squeeze. “Forty-five minutes, probably,” he answers, smiling softly. 

You hum in affirmation and nod, watching as his erection hardens. You grin to yourself as you reach your hand over the center console and into his lap. Logan’s eyes stay on the road, his throat bobbing as he swallows. You bring your fingers to his belt, watching him closely as you unbuckle the clasp. 

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” Logan asks as you slip the belt from the loops on his jeans. 

You drop the belt onto your side of the car, working at his button next. “Taking care of you,” you say as you pull his zipper down. You lean over the center console completely, tugging his jeans down his legs as far as you can get them to go. 

Logan’s hand slips from your thigh and grabs your wrist, stopping you before you can tug his boxers down. “I’m trying to drive, pretty girl,” he chides, looking down at you. 

You smile up at him, freeing yourself from his grasp and tugging down his boxers. “I know,” you answer, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and down the length of him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good.” You lower your head into his lap and bring his cock to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his tip. 

“F-fuck,” Logan stutters, white-knuckling the steering wheel. You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock up to his head. “Fucking tease,” Logan mutters, his hand coming down to the crown of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, nails digging into your scalp. 

You wrap your lips around his tip, and Logan bucks his hips into your mouth, forcing you to take all of him at once. You’ll never get used to the sheer size of him—the way he spills out of your mouth even when he hits the back of your throat. You suck hard, hollowing your cheeks as you slide up and down his shaft. 

You can feel Logan holding back, struggling to keep his hips still as you take him in and out of your mouth. “Such a good fucking girl,” Logan moans, your hand at the base of his cock stroking up and down now. “Feels so good, princess.” 

He twitches inside you, throbbing with need. You swirl your tongue around his tip and take him deeper, as far as he can possibly go. Logan grips the back of your head, guiding you up and down his length. You look up at him, his chest heaving, his eyes still on the road. He curses under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter than before. 

His eyes flit down to you and catch your gaze. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises, his foot through the floor on the gas. “So pretty when your mouth is full of my cock.” His words go straight to your core, the aching fire between your legs burning with need. You press your thighs together, searching for friction as Logan’s hips buck into your mouth again. 

He gently fucks your face, his hand still guiding the back of your head, pushing himself further inside. “Taking me so well,” Logan growls. You gag around him as he slides you up and down his cock. “Perfect little mouth, doing so good for me.” You know he’s getting close; it’s the way he whispers your name, the way he pushes you back down after you reach his tip.

Logan flicks the blinker on, and the car jerks to the side of the road, coasting to a stop. His cock twitches as he puts the car in park. He shifts, sitting up, his hips rocking, forcing himself deeper, hitting the back of your throat. You moan around him, taking him up and down faster, chasing his orgasm. 

“Gonna come down that pretty throat,” Logan groans, both of his hands gripping the back of your head tightly, pumping in and out of your mouth. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes. “So fucking good.” His hips stutter, his pace faltering as he spills himself inside you. You swallow everything he has to give you, his hips still rocking as he rides out his orgasm. 

He guides your head up, your lips sliding up his cock as he pulls himself from your mouth. He smirks at you, his hand coming to your chin, wiping away his release and your saliva from the corner of your lips. 

“I think it’s your turn, darlin’,” Logan husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He suddenly grabs your hips and wraps an arm around your back, hoisting you up and setting you down on the center console. He keeps his arm around your back to hold you up as his free hand works at your shorts, unbuttoning the denim, pulling your zipper, and yanking your jeans and panties down your legs. 

“Fucking soaked for me, pretty girl,” Logan says, tugging you closer to him as he settles between your thighs. “Could smell how much you needed me when you were getting me off.” His tongue licks a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Couldn’t wait to taste you,” he growls as he laps at you starvingly. 

He pulls you closer, your ass hanging off the center console as Logan buries his face into your cunt. “F-fuck, Lo,” you stutter, his tongue swirling around your clit. He brings his free hand to your thigh, spreading your legs wider. His fingers teasingly trail higher, closer to where you need him most.   

He finally finds your folds, toying with you, spreading your slick as his tongue draws circles into your core. “Tastes so fucking perfect, sweetheart,” Logan mumbles against you, two fingers prodding at your entrance. “Always tastes so perfect.” His fingers thrust inside you—down to the knuckles—pulling out only to pump back in again. 

Everything is hurried and frantic, needy and desperate. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly as his fingers fuck into you. It’s already too much, and you can feel the liquid heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach. “Logan,” you whine, throwing your head back. 

“That feel good, beautiful?” Logan asks, his teeth grazing your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. His tongue flits in and out, drawing long, solid strokes as his fingers fill you up, stretching you out and working you open.

“Y-yes,” you pant, watching as he devours you, sinks into you. His dark eyes meet yours and he smiles against you, taking your clit back into his mouth and sucking harder than before. “S-so good.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, a third finger prodding your entrance. “Gonna take care of you.” He slips it in, scissoring inside you, massaging your walls. “Gonna make you come.”

You curse under your breath, your chest heaving as he buries his fingers deep inside. His pace is unrelenting and reckless, pumping in and out, lapping at you mercilessly. Your walls flutter around him, sucking him in deeper. “S-so close,” you mumble, shaking underneath his touch. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” Logan coos, licking hard, flat circles around your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His words goad you along, your muscles contracting and releasing around him. He rocks his fingers in and out of you, sucking your clit roughly between sentences. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me taste it.”

And then you’re clenching down around him, arching your back as you come undone. You melt into him, his face still buried in your cunt as he works you through your orgasm—his fingers thrusting as he strokes your clit with his tongue.  He slows down, his fingers stalling inside you before he slips out completely. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and pulls away. His chin glistens with your juices, sweat coating his brow, his hair disheveled. He’s a mess, and it’s all because of you. 

Logan pulls you into his lap, and you immediately feel his still-hard cock press against your stomach. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he murmurs at the shell of your ear. “You started this, pretty girl.” Logan lifts you up, his erection suddenly nudging at your entrance. “And now I’m gonna finish it.” He pulls you down onto him, his cock sinking deep inside you—down to the hilt. 

You’re full again—full of him. You lift your hips and sink back down onto him. “That’s it, sweetheart, ride my cock just like that,” he growls, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers finding your still-sensitive clit. “Such a good fucking girl.”

“L-Lo,” you whimper, his hips rocking against yours. He thrusts up into you, pushing himself deeper, stroking your clit gently with his thumb. 

“So fucking tight,” Logan groans, gripping your hip with his free hand, guiding you up and down his length. “Such a good fucking pussy, taking me so well.” He throbs inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. He flicks your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

You can feel your orgasm building with every twitch of his cock, with every circle he draws into your core. “’M’so close,” you whine as Logan’s hips snap against yours. He’s fucking into you relentlessly—the slow, languid roll of your hips not enough to satiate his hunger. Your walls flutter around him, pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Logan grunts, thrusting up into you. “Can feel you squeezing me. Feels so good, so fucking perfect.” He pinches your clit lightly before circling rapidly, adding more pressure. Your muscles contract around him, and Logan groans at the feeling. “Come on my cock, pretty girl. Let me get you there.”

Logan swallows your moans with a kiss as you let go. You’re all liquid heat, shattering, unraveling as your orgasm crashes into you.  Logan is close behind, his fingers still dragging against your clit, his pace faltering as his hips snap into yours. “Where do you want me to—”

You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Inside,” you whisper. 

Logan moans your name, his cock throbbing as he fills you up, painting your walls with his release. “So fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, his fingers sliding away from your clit and trailing up your body. He wraps his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest as his hips stall, his cock unmoving inside you. “Wanna keep you right here,” he mutters against the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna let you go.”

You bury your head into the crook of his neck. “Don’t wanna let go, either,” you say, your voice quiet and shaky. “But we need to get home.”

“I know, darlin’,” Logan says, disappointment heavy in his voice. He lifts you gently, pulling himself out from your cunt. He helps you back over the center console, your bare ass hitting the cold leather of your seat. Logan finds your jean shorts and panties, and motions for you to give him your legs so that he can help you dress. It’s soft, intimate, domestic. He lets his fingers linger on your legs long after he’s done, worshipping your skin, taking care of you. 

He pulls his boxers and jeans back up, zipping and buttoning the denim, and starts the car. He rolls back out onto the highway, his palm finding its place on your thigh—exactly where he was before. 

“Forty-five minutes, pretty girl,” Logan chuckles, his thumb brushing gentle circles into your skin. “Couldn’t wait forty-five minutes for me, hm?”

“Can’t ever wait for you,” you say, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

You’re asleep less than five minutes later, and you’re still asleep when you finally arrive back at the mansion. Logan carries you out of the car, into the mansion, and up the steps to his bedroom. You’re still sleeping as he undresses you. He settles you under the covers and climbs in after you, pulling you tight into his chest. 

“Love you, pretty girl,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Love you, too,” you mumble, half asleep. 

And it’s all he wanted. It’s all he ever thinks about. You. 

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @cosmiccandydreamer

[malavera]

Cosplay (18+) — Hugh Jackman One Shot

pairing: hugh jackman x female reader

summary: Your hubby came home after filming one of the scenes for Deadpool & Wolverine with his costume on to surprise you

warning: SMUT! MDNI. PWP. Wolverine cosplay sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, the use of pet name bub (bubby / bubba)

a/n: i had this scenario every time i went to bed

"Bub, I'm home! Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!" Your voice echoes through the house, a playful lilt in your tone as you rinse the last plate under the warm, soapy water. The clatter of dishes is almost soothing, a rhythm you've come to appreciate in the quiet moments.

But then, without warning, a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a firm, familiar embrace. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the roughness of his stubble grazing against the soft skin of your shoulder blade. His warmth envelops you, seeping through your clothes, and suddenly the kitchen feels too small, too intimate.

"You’ve eaten without me?" His voice is a low, teasing rumble against your ear, and you can’t help but smile, even as your heart races.

"Well, I figured you'd be late, so..." You trail off, your voice faltering as you quickly dry your hands on a nearby towel. But when you turn around, the air catches in your throat.

Standing before you, with that trademark smirk you know all too well, is your lover. But tonight, he’s not just himself—he’s transformed. Draped in the iconic yellow and blue, his muscles defined by the snug fabric of Wolverine's original suit, he embodies the fierce, feral energy of the comic book legend. His eyes flash with mischief, and the scowl he wears—so perfectly in character—sends a thrill through you.

You stare, wide-eyed, your breath hitching as the reality of the moment sets in. The air feels heavy, charged with anticipation, and your mouth goes dry as you try to swallow, your body betraying you. He steps closer, the leather of his costume creaking ever so slightly, and you know—this night is far from over.

"H-Hugh..." The name slips from your lips, barely a whisper, as you stare, utterly transfixed.

His grin widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes sharpening. "What's the matter, bub? Cat got your tongue?" His voice is a low, teasing growl, sending a jolt of excitement through you.

You stumble back, the cool edge of the kitchen counter pressing against your spine as he advances, his presence overwhelming, magnetic. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't tear your eyes away from him—this man, your lover, transformed into something untamed, almost primal.

A nervous laugh escapes you, breathless and trembling. "You look... incredible." The words come out in a rush, your voice barely steady. He’s so close now, the scent of leather and cologne filling your senses, and you know there’s no turning back.

"C'mere.." He muttered, an arm snatching to hug your waist pulling you close to him before he tilted his head, enough so the pointy nose of the scowl wouldn't poke you, to pull you in for a hungry kiss. You gasp, trying to follow his rhythm.

Hugh grabs a handful of your hair, tugging it, earning a loud moan from you. As your mouth went agape that's his moment to shove his tongue deeper. The heated make out session sent you to heaven without realizing everything around you as you are now being seated on top of the kitchen counter, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them.

"You miss me bub?" Hugh asks in between the kiss.

"S'much, daddy." You mewled and he groaned.

"Please, daddy. Do something.. to me." You moaned.

"Yeah? What do you want daddy to do huh? Tell me." He's teasing you. He knows exactly what you need, it's your second favorite thing about him; his fingers. He's so good with it. The way he would put one in, and then shove the other, thrusting in and out of your glistening cunt. Your favorite part is when he curls them inside you before he repeatedly flicks them.

"Want your fingers, daddy."

"These fingers, baby?" He tilted his head, acting dumbfounded, as the tips of his finger made a circle against your clothed pussy. "Yeah?" He pressed the pad of his fingers right against your clothed clit.

"Ah.. Yes." You gasp, smiling.

"You're soaked already, bub. What's gotten you so eager for me? Is this the suit? Huh? You love seeing your daddy in his costume?" He taunted.

You can only nod as you enjoy the way his fingers rubbing your, still clothed, cunt. "Daddy, please. I've been good. I deserve this."

"Of course you do, baby." You gasp once you felt one of his fingers enter your throbbing cunt. You shrieked when you felt his other hand make a handful of your hair and tugged your head back, making you watch him.

"Look at me when I'm making you feel this good, bub." There goes the second finger, entering. And he does your favorite thing, finger-fucking you.

You whimpered, closing your eyes briefly. "Urgh.. Daddy you're so good.. You're so good with my pussy." Between the two of you here, you both have the praise kink. He's an actor, of course he loves being praised for his skills and performances. You both are a master at this department, though only your words can get him going.

"Yeah? Like that bub? Tell daddy how it feels... So good yeah?" He coo’ed.

"Yeah.. Yeah.. so good daddy, deeper.. OH!" You gasped out a loud moan at the end once you feel him pushing in his fingers deep into your cunt.

"Only my fingers can play with this cunt, right bub? My cunt." He grunted.

"Yes, yes daddy! It's your cunt!" You whimpered, feeling as you're about to reach your high; You gasp once more when he harshly tug his fingers out of your cunt, jolting your body forward.

"W-what.." You breathlessly said.

"You're gonna have to cum on my cock, bub." He hastily spoke as he tries to take his heavy cock out of his pants. Swallowing down your saliva, you watch as he give himself a couple of jerks before tapping his heavy cock against your pussy, indicating he’s about to go in. Not that he’d need your permission to.

Your mouth fell agape watching the big tip of his cock, slowly entering your soaked folds, feeling every inch of his cock going in even the raging veins felt like they’re scratching the insides of your warm cunt. Hugh roughly grabs you by your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes that are covered with the wolverine scowl.

“Look at me when i’m fucking you, bub.” He harshly spoke as he starts to move his hips back and forth, gently at first before he picks up the pace, turning the peaceful atmosphere filled with your moaning mess.

You’d never imagine you’d see the night filled with Hugh fucking you on top of the kitchen island with his super hot wolverine costume on. All you could think about is how this costume would be the one where people all around the world would see later in the movie theater once it’s coming out. And the fact that he has fucked you in it, makes your pussy flutters as he is not stopping anytime soon. The nasty sound of your pussy milking his heavy cock that is formed from the mixed of your fluid fills the entire kitchen. And you wished you could watch yourself being fucked by the wolverine in third person’s point of view.

“What are you thinking about bub?” Hugh piston his hips to a certain angle which caused you to loudly moan. “You’re thinking about how good i’m fucking you right, bub? You never want me to stop right, honey?” Hugh coo’ed.

“N-no, daddy. I never want you to stop. I want you to make me cum, please it feels so good!” You cried, your hands went up to play with your tits.

“Oh yes, play with those tits bub. My tits. Fuck, this cunt is so good I can never get enough.” Hugh grunted. He pulls you closer to him making your hips lying at the edge of the counter.

All you wanted is to get him to cum deep inside you. You could feel the brush of his pubic hair from every stroke, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. You’re going to cum anytime soon. But something is growing inside you and it’s inching closer, any seconds now.

“W-wait, Daddy, stop, something’s wrong!” You shrieked.

And you know better from stoping your beloved from fucking you hard, he will never listen. But instead, he gripped your hips harder and thrusts his cock in and out of you with a godly fast pace.

“Fuck, fuck, Daddy!” You screamed as you forcefully pushing yourself away from him before you feel yourself reaching your high. You couldn’t contain it, it sprayed everywhere, even to his costume. Your thighs are shaking, your chest heaves up and down.

Hugh stood there groaning as he just witnessed his baby squirted out. “Fffuckk… Bub, that was amazing.” He muttered, but he’s not stopping there. He grabbed his cock, aiming the tip against your entrance, softly rubbing it against your hole first.

“W-wait, I don’t think I-..”

“Shut up, Bub. Daddy hasn’t cum yet.” He hissed as he pushed the tip of his cock into your entrance.

Your pussy purred, “Oh.” You gasped, feeling a little bit embarrassed. But, Hugh loved it.

“Do you think you can give it to me one more time bub? This time, squirt on my cock?”

[tottentz]

HOUSE ADVENTAGE .ᐟ ── honkai star rail. ❛ i know you want me, baby ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine, dr. ratio, boothill, jing yuan, sunday, jiaoqiu.

𓆩♡𓆪 WARNINGS ! mdni. reader has no pronouns but afab anatomy is used, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, fingering ( boothill ), handjob ( aventurine ), facefucking & hair pulling ( dr. ratio ), facesitting ( jing yuan ), a little bit of spit, kinda possesive sunday, marking ( jiaoqiu ), size difference, begging, orgasm delay, a bit of angst on aventurine's part, as he is a little self-destructive. ♡ˎˊ˗ ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 DESCRIPTION ! their little obsessions with their favorite parts of your body.

mature content ahead + please take care of yourself before proceeding !

𝐢.ㅤ ㅤDR. RATIOㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your mouth.

your mouth can be both a curse and a blessing.

is just that sometimes you don't stop talking nonsense.

veritas' thumb touches your mouth. you don't speak, don't have to. you part your lips without being asked, letting Veritas inside to press on your tongue. 

"good," you get for your efforts. another chill ripples down your spine. veritas traces your teeth, pressing on the points as if to test their sharpness. and you stay still, holding your mouth open even when veritas pulls his hand back. fingers under your chin. you are tipped up a bit more, then veritas hooks his thumb over your bottom row of teeth and pulls your mouth open wider. 

"you gonna fuck me now?" you ask, try to. does your voice always sounded like that? desperate. you whine before nuzzling into the inside of his thigh.

"no, you haven't deserved it yet" he starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. you know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. "you take what i give you or nothing at all."

you want to roll your eyes at him, but the very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. 

he goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling, you can feel the weight of veritas' gaze. and when you moan, one of your hands still working up and down along veritas' shaft as tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had veritas' fat cock in your mouth.

"breathe," he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you've won some sort of award. he narrows his eyes at you, "you can choke all you want, but your impatience is not going to get you anywhere."

before you can even argue again, he's guiding your lips back on him. just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him.

"messy." his sighs echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. when you gag, he moans again.

veritas' thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and you feel so enlightened, nodding dazedly around his cock before pulling off, tilting your head up and dropping your jaw. 

veritas bends down, smiling at your fucked out face, mascara tracked tears, your spit covered chin, and spits right into your waiting mouth.

"thank you.” you say, as always.

𝐢𝐢.ㅤ ㅤSUNDAYㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your eyes.

he thinks you are pretty, pretty when you smile, pretty when you cry. after all, they say the eyes are the mirror of the soul, and so, he always do his best to fuck you until everything's hazy and blurry with his blatant desire.

sunday just knows how you feel by the way your eyes roll back he palmed the bend of your knee, pressing the joint by your temple as to ease his strife, and he faltered when you sobbed his name, eagerly arching your tremoring pelvis into his own because he had begun to relentlessly hammer a delicate plot that induced your vision to flicker and blurrily haze with spangled glimmers of hot electricity. 

and, for the third time, sunday slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose, because he knows what to do to make your eyes prickle with tears as easy.

"always so good for me," sunday groans, a badgering ache numbed your rational thought, swallowing the sensible and only rational portion of your conscious in a sudden pit of longing. "i've broken you in, haven't i?"

"p-please, sunday— please, please, please let me c-come," you sob, as if all would be lost if the climax you'd been chasing mischievously slipped through your quivering fingertips. "w-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—" ⠀ ⠀ 

wild pulsations rendered his brain to mush and melted his forefront conscious into a haze of silver lining. you gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.

"so pretty when you beg," he compliments. he's just as far off as you. ruby red and temple coated with sweat, sunday is flush and trembling under your hold. "does it feel good, love? say it," sunday commands, but you don't understand, can't understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. he fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. "say you're mine."

"yours," you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. you have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.

"again," his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. "say it again."

"yours, ah!" a moan breaks at the end of the word, sunday's thrusts getting rougher, faster and there's heat pooling down on your lower stomach. "i'm y-yours, all yours, only yours."

"yes, mine," sunday agrees, and sunday thinks you are a vision like this.

you are looking at him like he's an angel, like a devil he's completely consumed by. you are still clad in your clothes, moving up body up and down, docile and pliant on sunday's cock as if you are nothing but a beloved toy.

"mine." he reachs forward to run his hand down your stomach, under your shirt, his touch soft enough to have you brokenly stuttering. 

drawing his name from your lips, you arched further into the bed as the last of your orgasm shook your weak limbs. his name carried significance. the tenor more than just a lovely echo of your rapture.

𝐢𝐢𝐢.ㅤ ㅤJIAOQIU ㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your breast.

they are just so soft, and all for him to suck, for him to claim.

"i barely moved and you're already falling apart," jiaoqiu tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. it seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. at the look you're giving him, he adds: "wanna cum with you, yeah?." ⠀ ⠀

you mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. jiaoqiu caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. his fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by jiaoqiu's greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.⠀

and then he's sucking. hard.

your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it's throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked.

"jiaoqiu, fuck," you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he's telling you how much this affects him. "please—"

jiaoqiu bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you're sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. he busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

"look at you," his fingers brush the underside of your chin, a few of his fingers cupping the base of your neck as to lift your head from you peripheral and bring it to his forefront visual. "grinding against everything. you're quite the needy thing, aren't you?" tilting your head as if examining a newfound discovery, his hips erratically jerk, and the breathless pants from your mouth divulged your own craving.

you're so responsive in both body and voice, jolting with every thrust, arching sharply, legs spasming like you can't take, but he knows you can.

"fuck me, please" you say, beg, euphoria peaked above its horizon, singeing his goosed skin with excited jolts. "please, want you, wanna feel you—"

humming into the feral abundance of the rough brush of his lips, you can't help but arch against jiaoqiu as he twists and pinches the tender skin of your nipples, and your breath hitches at the feel of his mouth brushing your nipple, whining at the feel of his tongue inching closer to your bud. 

"keep it together now," devouring you with a magnetic gape, your hues inundated, drinking in your flustered disposition. "it would be a pity if i stopped now."

"a pity," you repeat stupidly. in your defense, you feel as if your brain is melting.

he smiles, and deliberately ignoring your request, he decides to take the tip into his mouth wholly to suck, pushing the nip to the rough of his mouth while his other hand tends to the other breast. it looks like you'll have to wait a little longer

𝐢𝐯.ㅤ ㅤBOOTHILLㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your hips.

he is just a little obssessed with the softness of your skin underneath his cold fingers.

he is always reaching out to you in some way, whether is a hand in your thigh or an arm around your waist. especially if it's to keep you from squirming in his grip.

"hah," he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. boothill pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. you moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. "acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what ya wanted, aint'cha?"

your teeth clenched but the effort was momentary as mewls of whimpers parted your lips. your hips eagerly bucked into his working hand, desperately aiding him to reach a depth that would cause your eyes to roll, much like they did when his thump began to swipe fast circles over the aroused bud of your clit.

 “forkin’ wet for me, huh? yer gonna sing pretty for me when ya come on my fingers, yeah?” his lips latched onto the skin of your shoulder, and he worked his away along the base until kissing the incision of flesh that dimpled behind your ear. 

you can't even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but boothill holds your hips with his free hand and pins them down hard you know will leave bruises. your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can't stop the loud moans slipping through your lips.

"s’good, isnt it, baby?," he says, licking against your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, "let me hear you."

he brought his inactive hand to fondle the nipple of your breast, rolling the sensitive bud beneath his fingertips, mindful to place bruising kisses along your neck where deep shapes of his ministrations would be left for you to cover.

"boothill," you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, "want your mouth-please."

he chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot.

"come on my fingers first." he says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked.

you roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. he moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath.

"that's it babe, ride it." he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

you shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. you feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

"i've got you," he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain.

your heart pounds. your brain is whirring, moving a mile a minute and you feel like you can't breathe. everything, everything is so blurry except for him. whose gripping your skin like you're everything to him. like he needs you, like a lifeline, like he can't let you go.

you both loved it.

𝐯.ㅤ ㅤAVENTURINEㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your hands.

 aventurine doesn't say i love you often. not when you are alone, not when you fuck.

aventurine likes to pretend that you aren't painfully soft with him, but the truth is that you are, and have been for a while now. you do things like this frequently. you no longer give in to goading or falls for the traps aventurine sets for you.

your hand curl around his dick now, cold against the flushed skin but he doesn't care. he's engrossed admiring your fucked out state. he's always telling you how beautiful you look; sweat drips down your temples and your lips are swollen and so so sweet, cries melodic and high, still not tinged with the usual hoarseness it gets when aventurine abuses of your throat with his cock.

"somebody's made a mess," you hum, and aventurine thinks how dirty it is— the sticky wet feeling of his own release against his shaft, the obscene image of how his erection looks wrapped in your hand— it wrenches a moan out of him, it has him thrusting up into your hand.

his futile attempts did little as to alleviate the prodding knot that prompted him to toss his head against the cotton pillowcase. hasty fondle of himself induced naught a reaction, and he bitterly grumbled before arching his back where he lay, huffs of contempt lengthening until pitiful whimpers had been the only sound.

"you are enjoying this a little too much, friend," aventurine tells you, low and rough. 

"don't you?" your hand caresses his thigh, so he's thrusted into, slow, testing. 

you are gentle even in this, though aventurine has given you permission to be rough over and over. it doesn't matter. you continue to treat him kindly. it still feels like ripped flesh and shattered dreams and the aches that sit inside long healed scars. it's okay, aventurine can still destroy himself with this.

he should've figured something like this would happen soon. you know a little too much. "i live to please," aventurine wonders. "i've told you, haven't i? use me as you wish"

"oh." you say, quietly. "is that so?."

his heart stops, but the hand on his dick pumps ever faster. he's ruined you, he knows, but in the same way, you've ruined him. now all he wants- all he'll accept- is you, your body, your hands, all of you.

aventurine doesn't voice none of that, and so he avoids your gaze. good. better that way. you make it feel good too often. he needs to balance the scales.

"fuck fuck fuck, shit," aventurine breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. tingles spark down your spine, for what had lasted only minutes drilled into lengthening ticks of time. such a case wasn't familiar to him. the antagonizing build that pooled until coiled into a tight dam awaiting its chance to burst.

you kiss him for what feels like the hundredth time— but this time there's something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your neck when he attempts to ease the ache himself, swiping rough compresses against whatever he could reach, furthermore tucking a hand beneath his thighs to clutch at his neglected balls, but his caress hardly could amount to yout touch-

 he harbored no genuine resentment, but with how his conscious craved their touch, he was bound to blame. "then tell me what you want, aventurine."

𝐯𝐢.ㅤ ㅤJING YUAN ㅤㅤ ❛ㅤㅤ your thighs.

"so pretty," you hear him mumble. "i could watch you all day."

you can feel his breath, the torrent of his day in the patterns of his breathing, the way he clings on to your skin telling tales of his frustrations. so you let him. you let him look and love and feast, devour you whole. and jing yuan doesn’t know what to do with it. doesn’t know how to hold so much love and adoration even in his big, big palms.

jing yuan swears he can die happy between your thighs, the way you still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your core, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he's tasting. 

he always touches like this is the only chance he’ll ever get. he digs his fingers into the pudge of your thighs, he holds you like you’ll crumble to dust. he’s so overwhelmed. you can feel his breath, the torrent of his day in the patterns of his breathing, the way he clings on to your skin telling tales of his frustrations. so you let him. you let him look and love and feast, devour you whole.

you roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. you stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. you grind forward, he's right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you.

"w-wait," you gasp, and aeons, you're gonna lose it. even if you didn't want to, you'd think the way he's moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. 

“look at you,” he murmurs, full of mirth, full of adoration. his palm comes to curve against the swell of your cheek, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “pretty.”

and then you're weightless, control leaving you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and presses up, pulling you down with him, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. he nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. now, he's sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside of your walls to truly taste you.

"all for me" he says, and you're whispering, gasping for him, melting at the seams, feeling the strong muscle flick once, twice over your sensitive nub before pressing harshly into you. you jerk, small whines dripping off your lips as he grips your flesh, pushing himself impossibly deeper into yo

you go brainless, pulling at the roots of his hair as you push yourself down against him, suckling on it as he digs his fingers into your inner thighs, whimpering and rutting your hips against his face. jing yuan's fierce, violent, like all his passion coming alive in his ember-tipped tongue that's digging deep in you, sticky and warm and fuck, you're dripping, coating his chin and his nose in all you have to offer.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪ + @houseofsolisoccasum , @pixelcafe-network , @nereidsrealm

[pennjammin]

PONYTAIL.

JJK HALLOWEEN! gojoxreader

SUMMARY ❥ you have a huge, embarrassing crush on the star of the jockey team on campus. you thought you’d kept it low key, ‘till he approaches you at a halloween party, and shows you that the mechanical bull isn’t the only thing you can ride.

CONTENT ❥ collegestudent!gojo, smut, unprotected, slight breeding kink mention, college!au, athlete!reader, afab!reader, athlete!gojo, drug/alcohol use, spit kink, switch!gojo, switch!reader, masochism, sadism, aftercare, car sex.

song inspo: can’t get enough - j. cole

WC: [8.1K] MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Crisp fall air brings out the gooseflesh among your skin; hair that's not there trying to rise at the thrill of tonight's festivities. The sidewalks are packed to the brim of frat boys, sorority sisters, general slackers and... even an alumni or two. So many people to choose from, you think.

Everyone’s in costume; faces concealed by masks, clouds of smoke mixing with the breeze, and overstimulating noises from animatronics. The holidays were here. You should be trying to find a relationship, to cuddle you through the cold, but right now you just want to bone.

"Where do we even start?" you hear your friend ask from behind you, as your whole group walks - stumbles, more like - down the middle of a road that has been closed to through traffic.

"Whatever house has the most fine men standing outside," your other friend answers with a grin.

You agree, because you had already shot down a fair amount of Don Julio - and the heat of the drink had travelled straight to your core, a small throb arising in your cunt the more you glance around and see the variations of muscles poking out from underneath masked strangers’ costumes. You’d easily find the satisfaction to your hunger, but you’re impatient.

You hum longingly as your eyes fixate on a crowd outside of a large house, painted black. There’s fog rolling over the lawn, but that’s not what draws you in; it’s the group of men deep into a drinking game out front.

Without warning your friends, you beeline over. You wonder if any of them are as needy as you feel right now. The liquor alone could not justify the painful feeling of heat all throughout your nerves; it was mostly your hormones. Pathetic, you tell yourself, so incredibly ready to sit down on someone’s cock.

As your friends follow you down the pathway to the large house, you feel several pairs of eyes stick to you like bologna on hot asphalt. That's right; you and your girls are just pieces of meat dangling in front of a den of lions.

You're not surprised, though, because you’re in a brown leather brazier, accentuated by puffy white sleeves that hang off your shoulders, tucked into a skirt. You have a whip on your hip, and your boots are up to your fishnet-covered knees - one of which leads to the garter holding a toy gun against your thick thigh; to add, it shoots out a little pow flag when you pull the trigger.

And it's clearly mesmerizing in the way that you wear it well, walking right into the party with your liquid confidence through the roof, aware of one of your friends falling behind to entertain someone who had called out to her.

Once inside the belly of the beast, you're farther away from the center of attention; it seems that everyone on campus had read your mind about picking this particular house to step into. It made sense; the house was huge outside, but even bigger within.

The room is littered with men and women alike; most sloppily grinding on one another on the edges of the room, others filling their noses with bad things, but above all: you notice there are cheers coming from somewhere in the center.

You realize why as you part through the crowd, dusting your friends to see what the excitement is. And when you see it, you feel yourself grow both confused and aroused.

There, under a bright red spotlight, is an entire brown and white mechanical bull. Somehow, it had fit into this massive room, and there’s still plenty of room leftover for the influx of students. You're as impressed as the rest of the group, who watch as an ebony-haired man lacking a costume walks around to check the plugs on the bull, and bleakly instructs everyone to take several steps back.

Bass had been booming under your feet, competing with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, but it’s slowly fading away now; a voice travels over the remaining bustling.

Everyone seems to freeze as out from the crowd walks a tall, lean individual with powdery skin. He's wearing something similar to you: a black button-down shirt, leather pants, and brown boots, but most importantly - you feel your breath hitch when your eyes land on the delicious black Stetson that rests atop his contrasted snowy locks.

You feel mixed things blossoming in your chest: unease, desire, and… embarrassment.

You’ve been completely obsessed with the boy in the Stetson for months. Satoru, ‘Toru, and Gojo all being the names he answered to. You’d hopelessly pined over this Satoru, each time noting in your mind just how attractive you find him. He’s on the jockey team; you always see him in a tight, white riding suit with his helmet perched against his hip. You’re the soccer team captain, so you share a field for practice, and, well… Satoru doesn’t make it any easier for you to lock in while you train.

Your friends had noticed your infatuation and would giggle about him to you, saying how you looked like a cockdrunk puppy when he would kick himself on top of the horses - all of the muscles in his legs and arms moving underneath the skin you desperately wanted to crawl into.

He managed to pour gasoline directly onto your fire the first time he’d bumped into you on your way to the locker rooms.

“Careful, ponytail,” he’d said, a smug wink fluttering from his eye.

Then it happened again. And again. Each time you bumped into one another, he barely said two words to you, never seeming to truly notice you or take you in. This didn’t stop you from wearing your hair in a ponytail every single time, though.

He would likely not even recognize you now, given your costume and heavy finesse of makeup, a striking contrast to the sweat sticking your hair to your forehead and your muddy soccer jersey every time he’d seen you in the past. But you knew you recognized him, given the way your body was already responding to his presence.

"Alright now, y’all can't all be this shy," Satoru’s horrible attempt at a country accent booms into the crowd, gesturing wildly to the mechanical animal. "Anyone wanna be the guinea pig? Someone's gotta. I'm definitely not doing it."

A bit of laughter erupts but yet, the crowd remains still. You notice people trying to egg their friends on to test it out, but no one is either drunk or brave enough yet. Satoru continues to glare around the room, walking slowly as the spurs on his boots clack against the hardwood floor, as if he is genuinely a westerner interrogating everyone.

You suddenly feel a gush of pressure hit your back, and four hands send you lurching forward, causing you to accidentally step out beyond the crowd and into the center of the room with the snow-haired man. You exclaim loudly and your friends cheer, which prompts him to turn and look at the commotion.

"Well," Satoru’s velvety voice says, lowering his eyelids into a heated squint. "Seems we have a winner."

His lips disappear as they tuck in to wet themselves, and when they pop back out they are glistening under the red light. Though you cannot see his eyes under the harsh lighting, you can feel them, as well as the heat traveling up through your belly. You wonder then if he might possibly be remembering you.

No way, you tell yourself.

You attempt to turn and look at your friends, who are no doubt giggling endlessly at their little prank, but your head hardly cocks to the side when your hand is being grabbed by a larger, warm one.

You instantly look in the direction of it, your eyes traveling up your arm in disbelief, only to find Satoru is smirking at you.

"N-No, this was a mistake," you try to argue, but he is already gently coursing you towards his body, and your legs feel like jelly as you mindlessly obey like a little doll.

"Don't be afraid," he murmurs to you, hypnotizing you with his voice as he walks backwards, guiding you right to the steps that will allow you to get onto the bull. "You look like..." he pauses, cocking his head to the side and your heart drops, "you'd know how to hang on, no? You've got those strong legs."

You let out a breath. He still doesn’t recognize you. But you know he is referring to your thighs, which are on the larger side from all of the exercise you do for soccer. He's right, you do have the strength to keep yourself on the bull, but whether you want to do it in front of everyone remains to be seen.

"My friends pushed me forward," you blurt out, "I-I really… don't think I can do this."

His voice has lowered by now. It seems like he wants only you to hear him. Not that it mattered, as the crowd is still quite loud and so is the music thumping from another area of the house.

"I think you can," he responds, dipping his head forward like a proper cowboy, feeding into the twisted little costume he’s in. "My name is Satoru, but you can call me ‘Toru. What's yours, madam?"

You almost blurt that you already knew his name, but catch yourself.

"It's Y/N," you say bleakly, knowing he’s only asking to tell the crowd, not because he is interested in knowing who “ponytail” really is.

Not that he has indicated at all that he remembers you, which makes a little twinge of jealousy poke you in the heart because of the way he was looking at you. He must look at every woman like this.

"Y/N," he repeats slowly, as if memorizing the name, simultaneously gliding his piercing eyes down your body again and stopping briefly on your leg �� the one with the gun strapped to it. "Give us a show, pretty girl. I think everyone is looking forward to this."

You'd reached the steps to the bull. You begin to suspect that Satoru is the “everyone” in question. You want to try and fight him more, but something about his voice, his unhindered belief in you despite being a total stranger caused you to want to prove him right.

You can do it, you can ride it and not fall off, no matter how intense the settings.

One final look at him, and you release your hand from his, realizing the two of you had been standing there holding hands this entire time. He broke away, but not before giving you another look that might as well have had fire attached to it in the way it sent searing erotica up your body. You’re disgusted at just how awfully, hopelessly, desperately in love with him you are.

The crowd had been falling more quiet as you approached the chopping block, it felt like. But now, it's returned to cheers and whooping as you get on your tip-toes and sling one leg over the side of the bull, your skirt bunching up around your hips.

You spot your friends, who have acquired more drinks; colorful green and purple ones. They lift their cups when they notice your eye contact, and make kissy-faces as encouragement. Or perhaps they’re making fun of your obvious puppy-like expression every time you so much as look at Satoru.

"Alright everyone," he announces suddenly, clapping his hands before walking around to the front of the bull and patting its headless neck. "Y/N has bravely stepped up to the plate tonight. Since you’re all too pussy.” Laughter from the crowd. “Let's see how long she can last."

He turns and looks up at you, dropping an eyelid down into a familiar wink and clicking his tongue.

An irritating piece of man, he is. He doesn’t have to be so damn gorgeous, easily distracting you as you grip onto the reigns around the bull's nonexistent neck, all the confidence draining smooth out of your mind.

You don't have time to think about it much more because of the sheer level of noise that erupts from the room; the crowd has erupted into whoops and whistles, music’s blasting around you. A good old fashioned hype party song, that has prompted the crowd to lose their mind.

The red light makes it hard to see much of anything beyond the first row of people, which is helpful for your nerves, but it also means that since Satoru is standing the closest to you and the bull, he is the only thing you can clearly see, as he presses the button to trigger the ride.

You gasp as it begins vibrating, something you had not expected to happen. The bull jerks to the side, before the rear end perks up, knocking you plain forward and winding you. Your breasts bounce upward and the crowd oo’s.

Satoru smugly continues to operate the bull, keeping it slow as he courses it to knock forward and back, forward and back. You sit back up, trying to defeat gravity, your grip still strong on the reigns. But little do you know that you’ve been out of control since you stepped on the floor. Satoru’s taking his precious time sinking his claws into you.

Your thighs dig into the side of the bull and Satoru spins you, jerking up the rear again; the force knocks your skirt up.

You gasp, wanting to let go of the rope to adjust it, but you know you’re going to fall off if you do. You've made a vow that you cannot fall in front of Satoru, no matter how far he pushes you to your limit. Besides, you figure, having your ass our in front of him wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The crowd cheers, realizing Satoru is operating the machine solely for their gaze, and not necessarily to challenge you.

But you have yet to put that puzzle piece together.

You continue innocently focusing on staying up, but make the mistake of looking at Satoru again. He's looking up at you from beneath his eyelashes, his top teeth poking out as he tugs on his bottom lip with them.

"Doin' so good," he mouths, pushing at the the controls again.

You groan a bit, the vibration of the bull suddenly feeling even more intense, though it's likely just a combination of your imagination and the tequila.

Your head falls back as the bull begins to move in a galloping motion. More cheers erupt, and a darkening gaze is shot from Satoru that you can't see with your head tilted.

The vibrations shouldn't feel this good, you think. You start to feel embarrassed at the thought of getting wetter on top of this bull, in front of all these people, but you can't help it; your eyes flutter closed as you try to focus beyond the pleasure.

Satoru is drinking up the sight like a glass of water in the middle of the night. He can see his effect working more and more on you, your thigh muscles flexing harder as you dig them deeper into the side of the bull. You must not think anyone notices, but he can. A sick fuck he was to currently be jealous of a literal robot.

You suddenly spring your eyelids apart and cry to Satoru that you have to stop. You can't handle the ecstasy creeping up on you, your embarrassment outweighing your desire to prove yourself a strong bullrider. If he keeps operating like this, you’ll cum all over the back of the bull.

Satoru looks hesitant but he ultimately stops the ride, and you take a deep breath when the vibrations come to a halt. The bull steadies and you loosen your thigh muscles.

Despite feeling like a failure, the crowd cheers anyway; you were up there for what felt like a lifetime, but realistically it hadn't been long, and you were expecting people to clown on you for not lasting. It's not like you couldn't stay up; it was more like you couldn't hold your pathetic desire to bone the cowboy at bay.

Satoru comes around and helps you down, the same routine as before with his hand in yours, only this time you're putting some weight on him as you feel yourself struggling to stand with your legs apart.

"You did so good, pretty girl," he coos, not even phased by your body weight. "Rode so well. Thighs a bit sore now I bet, hm?"

You feel your stomach knotting up at his word choice. "A bit," you answer grimly. "The vibrating didn't help."

"Really," he drawls, not even attempting to make it sound like a question. "How so?"

You begin to suspect he knows exactly how. His hands have found your elbows, his arms wrapped around you to keep you steady, and you find yourselves in a darker corner of the room with a convenient lack of a crowd. You blink and the bull seems a great distance away. No one is looking for you, either.

"Doesn't matter," you huff, looking at the floor. "It's embarrassing to say."

"Say it," Satoru purrs, taking your hands in his before placing them both right over his chest pecs. "Tell me what it did to you, hm? Maybe I can help, ponytail.”

You gasp then, your eyes immediately shooting up to meet his face. You almost fall over at the idea that he knows who you are, that he’s recognized you. This means that now he absolutely cannot fix what the bull had done to your poor cunt, although... with the way he's eating you alive with his pupils alone, your morality wants to fly right out of the window and beg him to fix it.

"Made me so horny," you breathe, immediately smacking yourself in the mouth at the coercion of your confession. “Th-That is not what I meant to say.”

Satoru's chest shakes against your palms as he laughs, "Adorable. Got all hot and bothered from a bull ride? Should’ve known that’s all it would take.”

Your face heats immediately. "I've been drinking," you admit with a slur, sinking farther away from sobriety. "Normally it-it’s not that easy.”

You laugh, trying to mask it as a joke, but Satoru's face is dangerously still.

“It is,” he murmured, “you always have the same little expression on your face at practice, just from seeing me.”

You want to be embarrassed that he’d caught you. But right now, your darkest, perverted fantasies are coming alive right before you; and you’d be a fool not to feed into them.

"Because..." you breathe out, feeling your back hit a wall, unsure how you ended up here. "Why do you always look so good?"

"Been thinking the same thing," he mewls, leaning over you with his hands still holding yours to his body. He lets them go then, and puts his own flat against the wall on either side of you. "Got up there and rode the bull like a champ - you can imagine what it did to me."

"What could a perfect stranger have done?” you whisper, knowing, begging, wanting the answer to be something raunchy and wet in your ear.

Instead, in a flash, his rock-solid pelvis is digging into your stomach, and he twists his hips to allow you to feel the even more solid length under his leather pants.

"We’re not strangers, ponytail," Satoru hums in your ear, just like you’d wanted; warm breath traveling through your hair and down your neck. “Always see you eyein’ me on the field. Goin’ outta ya way to knock into me afterwards. Been at this for months.”

You can't help the little whine that escapes your mouth. Your cunt had been pulsing all night, but now you can almost hear it. It's screaming at you to slide your hands down his body, to reach the waist band of the leather on his pants and then dare to explore further—

His gasp takes you out of your clouded fantasy, as you realize it's not a fantasy at all. Your hand is resting cutely over his bulge. You had been acting on your twisted, unwarranted desires from weeks ago all along.

"Ngh, knew I chose the right costume," he murmurs in your ear. "Knew it’d finally get your attention, get you to wanna ride me.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’d been caught, being so obviously needy. You wish you can say you’re embarrassed, but when your hand doesn’t immediately move away from his dick, you know you’re fucked.

You feel yourself shuddering, your hands moving from his waist, over his ribs, passing to his shoulders; your palms sliding over thick, unidentified shapes and running down the curves in his arms. You couldn’t stop, you needed to know what all of him felt like.

“You didn’t have to be a cowboy to get me to ride you,” you whisper, “but if you care about saving horses that much-“

"Hah- shut up," he grunts. "'Fore I take you against this wall. Shouldn’t - hngh - be doing this here.”

“Isn’t this your frat house?” you question. “Take me,” you pause when his gaze darkens, “take me to your r-room.”

He groans, a velvety sound that raises the imaginary hair back up on your neck.

“Not mine, but I’ve got an idea.” He backs away from you, and the cold sensation of his body heat leaving yours makes your heart thump in pain. “C’mon, pretty.”

So he takes your hand again, and again you let him lead you around like a little pony. You don’t see your friends anymore, but you imagine the groupchat is blowing up. They no doubt saw you disappear into the shadows with Satoru.

You manage to escape to the outside without so much as a second glance from anyone, as you’ve started a riot for a turn on the mechanical bull. The memory of riding it seems so distant now.

“So tell me,” Satoru begins suddenly, pulling you hard against him, and you stumble before he puts a hand on your waist to steady you. “Just how long did you intend to keep watching me? Makin’ me all nervous before you made your move?”

You are stunned by his bold line of questioning, but he knows full well how tipsy you are, and that you’re going to answer as honestly as you can.

“I made a move the first time I ran into you,” you squeaked. “Thought you’d take it from there, but guess your balls aren’t big enough.”

This makes him grunt a bit. “If I would have made the first move, you’d still be limping. I don’t like all the small talk.”

“I see,” you purr, “otherwise you wouldn’t be leading me to this field, would ya, ‘Toru?”

“Not a field,” he corrects. “I’m parked back here. What do y’think I am, a serial killer? Wouldn’t just fuck you in the wilderness. ‘Less you asked.”

It had a nice ring to it, but you aren’t quite wasted enough to not care about being seen out in the open like that.

You reach his car and, pretending to be a gentleman, he opens the door for you, and while you sink in, he goes to the trunk. You begin to feel your heart race; you hardly know this man, actually, and maybe you’re stupid for thinking with your cunt instead of your head. Letting him lead you out back, all alone to his car.

Your nerves ease when he joins you in the back seat, nothing more than a bottle of liquor in his hand.

“Think we need to loosen up some more,” he says sternly, unscrewing the cap. “Not that I need alcohol to take care of you, ponytail, but it’ll definitely make things interesting.”

You nod in agreement, knowing you can certainly use more liquid courage. You wait for him to pass you the bottle, but instead you feel chilly fingers connect to your chin, and his thumb courses your face towards his.

“Open those lips f’me,” he murmurs lowly, tilting your chin up towards his face and bringing the liquor bottle closer to yours.

Your eyes widen in realization of what he’s about to do, but the throb between your legs has resurfaced full force at the ghost of a grip he has on your chin.

Hot liquor is sliding down your throat before you even register that you’ve parted your lips. You gasp and close your mouth into a bubble, trying to breathe through your nose as the liquor starts to go down harshly.

Satoru’s watching you intensely, “Don’t swallow it all,” he instructs quickly, to which you find yourself glaring at him.

The interior of your cheeks is going numb, and he’s telling you not to swallow.

What he does next, though, makes your skeleton jump out of your skin and back in again.

He opens his mouth; his long, fat tongue sticking out as far as it will go with a delicate curve in it. He points to his open mouth, while looking at you through his eyelashes.

You feel your face go numb. Your cunt was pounding now, secretion wetting your inner thighs and covering your pussy. You spread your legs a bit, trying to use Satoru’s backseat as something to grind down onto.

You begin doing so as you sit up straight a bit and lean forward, before pushing your cheeks out to spit a steady mix of liquor and your saliva right onto Satoru’s glistening tongue. He hisses immediately, before gripping you by the neck; taking you by surprise when your air flow becomes restricted. Your face is jerked to his as he swallows the liquor you just spit into his mouth, nipping your bottom lip.

“Tastes s’good,” he rasps, “Know you’ll taste even better.”

“But—“ you want to ride him already.

Wanna get him deep in your belly, use your hips to wring more of those deep moans from the depths of his throat. You don’t know if you can wait for that.

“But what?” Satoru challenges, applying pressure to your massive thighs with his palms. “Y’should know by now you can trust me. Didn’t I take care of you on the bull?”

He slides his finger up your stomach and to the cups of your brazier, tucking the tip of the digit inside and tugging the material down, a nipple begging to be exposed.

“Had it vibrating as hard as it could,” he continues, cocking his head to the side, careful not to let his Stetson slide off. “Still can’t get you riding it like that outta my head. Fuck.” He hisses again and—

Crack!

His hand comes down hard on your thigh, pulling a pathetic cry out of you. You look up at him through your lashes; he’s so beautiful with the way the moonlight casts a glow along his jaw, his wet lips, and the brim of his Stetson.

“Quit looking at me like that,” he says, creeping closer to you.

“Make me,” you mouth brattily, and so he does.

Keeping his hands both occupied on your thigh and your throat, he finally crashes his desperate lips against yours, creating harsh reverberations through your teeth. He starts the kiss off hard and unsure, but once you’re kissing him back, the kisses get sloppy, ferocious, desperate.

You let out a whimper against his lips, and in the split second your mouth is open his tongue has made its way inside. The muscle clashes with yours, drenching your mouth in his saliva as he takes your tongue for his own.

Meanwhile, his hand has left your throat. It’s back on the trim of your brazier, and without warning, his fingers gives it a harsh tug and your breasts are out.

He doesn’t break away from the kiss but he does glance down and start palming the meat of your chest, pinching one nipple between his index and thumb.

Not much noise is made besides your shared frustrated grunts as he breaks away from your sloppy kiss, leaving his drool all over your mouth and chin as he dips his charming head down to latch onto your nipple.

He pulls one of your legs up onto his lap, as he nestles himself next to the other one, now between your legs, and you’re forced to lean back against the window and press your hand against the back of the passenger seat for balance.

Satoru is not showing your breasts any mercy. His hand glides across the skin on your leg, before he takes his fingers in a walking motion up your thigh and then quickly grabs your tits into each hand, gathering large loads of spit and hacking them onto your chest, the glorious sound of the fluid hitting your skin making you wetter and wetter and—

He takes a big hand and pop! smacks your achingly solid nipple, dragging a loud, embarrassing cry from you.

“S-Satoru—“ you moan, undecided if you want to tell him that it’s too much.

“Hmm?” he questions, the word coming out muffled as he now has a mouth full of breast again, his tongue swirling greedily over your areolas and sending signals to your tingling nerves.

“S’alot,” you stutter, “feels t-too good.”

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, pulling away from your chest and bringing his face back up to yours, “not finished with you. Not even close.”

You whine as he cracks a smack on your tit one more time for good measure. Now he’s pulling your legs, causing you to lose balance and fall onto your back.

The back seat is spacious, but you think there’s no way he’s going to be able to bend his body to do whatever he thinks he’s about to do.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking like you, though, because his hands hike up your skirt and he hisses at the sight of your panties, not even hesitating.

“S’cute, look at the little cherry,” he grins seductively, poking the fat of your pussy with a sharp finger.

He’s referring to the pattern on the front of your tiny white thong, but you’re hardly paying attention because your mind is still ringing at his sudden contact with your cunt.

Rip!

His hands are tearing apart your poor little fishnets, paving a way for him to get your panties off. He succeeds, struggling a bit to get them past your boots; folding your knees up to your face as he does so, commenting on your flexibility.

“Hah- I love athletic girls,” he says aloud. “So flexible. Gonna have your ankles by your ears, ponytail.”

You squirm underneath him at his threat, but he’s already pinning your legs up, your boots grazing across the ceiling of his car as he stares down at your glinting pussy - dripping all over his expensive white leather.

If the alcohol wasn’t currently hitting you like a train - your brain mushing and swirling from being slapped and pushed around - you’d be trying to force your legs closed to hide from him.

“Such a fucking pretty pussy,” he grits out, leaning forward and shooting a collection of spit out of his mouth right onto it. Your eyes roll, the warmth of his body fluid landing right over your clit, making the bottom half of your body twitch. Satoru grins.

“Don’t even need my spit, y’so wet; I just love the way it looks on you,” he murmurs, keeping his hands firm on the underside of your thighs, “‘M gonna mark you with all my fluids, pretty.”

“Shut up,” you cry out, “if you’re still talkin’ it means your face isn’t stuffed with pussy.”

“Mm, ponytail gets fiesty,” Satoru looks at you from between your thighs and bites his lip, “there’s no fun in rushing right into these things, you know.”

He turns his head to the side, still wearing his Stetson - it’s somehow managing to hang on through all of the filth - and he plants a soft little kiss to your inner knee. Then another to the other leg. He rinses and repeats this process until he’s far up your thighs, and you can feel his breath dancing over your dripping hole.

“F-fuck,” you scream out, getting more frustrated, “‘m gonna shove your face if you don’t stop.”

“Try,” he challenges, but his eyes say that if you do, you’ll be teased for even longer.

"Wh-Why are you doing this to me?" you pant, ramming your knee into his rib playfully.

"Cause truthfully," he says lowly, "I liked the little game we had going. Building up the tension. Hate to see it end..." he drags his finger down the side of your thigh, making you shiver. "And hmm, you are such a pretty girl, begging like this. Imagine if your teammates knew that their beast of a captain was in the backseat of a car, begging to have her pussy eaten? Imagine!”

His breath tickles your cunt as he cracks a mean laugh, his head tilted down so that you can’t see his expression under his hat.

You swallow in embarrassment. You always go for a little teasing, but this is extreme. Before you know it, your hand has popped out before you, and your fingers splay out over the cowhide of his Stetson as you push - hard - and push until his arrogant little mouth is against your pussy.

He’s shut up instantly, groaning softly against your skin as his tongue darts out on instinct, lapping up your juices.

“That’s right,” you whisper with ache in your voice, “shut up and eat that shit.”

Your head lolls back against the window panel in Satoru’s car. He’s not even bothering to argue with you now, lost in his own heaven of your delicious nectar. If you could see past his hat you’d be able to watch as his face becomes wet and shiny, as your secretion dribbles down his chin in a heavenly mix of saliva. His tongue drags down between your folds, making you squirm, but it’s nothing compared to when he shoves his tongue right into your wanton hole.

The cry you let out vibrates against the interior of the car. Satoru’s hand has come up underneath your thigh, pulling your leg to rest across his back as he’s slid down into a crouch on the floor. His hand cracks down on your leg in the same spot as before, this time digging his fingernails down into the flesh after the slap.

You hiss, but ultimately feel even more turned on as he drags his tongue back through your juices, finding your clit, narrowing it out as he flicks it back and forth, back and forth, the same way he had been rocking you on that damned bull.

“S-Such a fucking mess,” he moans against your skin, trying to catch all of your secretion but it’s impossible with the way he keeps eating you - you’re flooding the seat, your inner thighs, and his smug little pale face. “Tastes so good. Can’t imagine how good you taste after a long game, fuck.”

You furrow your eyebrows embarrassingly at the the thought of what he was implying - your cunt all sweaty after soccer and he’d prefer that over this? You want to shudder in disgust but, picturing yourself hiked up on the wall with your soccer shorts discarded, a leg over his shoulder as Satoru ate you alive like this - works you up more than you figure you can even get at this point.

“S-Satoru,” you whimper, feeling the pool of heat twist up your insides as the familiar feeling of ejaculation creeps up on you.

You reach and grab his hat, digging your fingers into the leather, your legs clenching against his cheeks as you try to control the shaking that you know is to overcome you the second you orgasm.

“I know that sound,” Satoru purrs against your clit, “cum for me baby. Cum all over my tongue, like y’been wanting to for months.”

That’s all it takes. And god, Satoru does not show mercy as the wave starts at your clit and pushes all the way through your body, down to your curling toes in your boots and up to your nipples, which are still dancing free over the rim of your brazier.

The shakes come quickly, intensely, harsher than you’ve ever felt them before, as Satoru’s tongue rides out your high for you, not stopping until you’re just slightly twitching.

“Beautiful,” he hums, parting his mouth from you and sitting up in the backseat. “Satoru one, Y/N zero.”

You frown at his use of scoring, knowing it’s just to get under your skin.

“I’ll even out the score, fuck you,” you hiss.

“Please do, ponytail,” Satoru grins.

You find yourself pulling your legs back quickly, your thighs still a little weak and shaky as you sit up on your knees. You quickly unzip your boots and toss them somewhere in the front. Then, you grab Satoru by his ungodly black button-down and drag him to the middle of the seat.

He’s looking up at you in a mix of awe and smug, but you’re trying to pretend you don’t feel his eyes on you so that you may maintain your confidence.

You throw your right leg over his waist. Now, you’re straddling him, bare cunt over warm leather, dragging all of your juice and cream over his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind.

You fumble between your legs to unbutton his pants and then unzip them. He assists you when he raises his hips for a second, allowing you to get his pants down just enough that his bulge is pressing against you through his boxers.

He’s looking up at you with slanted eyelids, his pupils blown to black with the rim of ice-blue hardly visible. He’s clearly so tipsy, just off of the little bit you’d spit into his mouth, meanwhile your body is hot and your vision is getting blurry, nothing on your mind except getting his cock inside of you.

But oh, he deserves the teasing he’d given you. You use your hand to palm him, but simultaneously drag your hips over his lap, your sensitive cunt twitching as you do so.

His head falls back, his Adam’s apple thumping gloriously in his throat. His eyes flutter closed but only briefly.

“Fuck- shit,” he groans. “‘M sorry ‘bout the teasing, ‘kay? Want you to take advantage of me already. F-fuck, please-“

His begging is so delicious. If he thinks this is going to decrease the teasing you’re bestowing upon him, he has another thing coming.

Probably you.

“Oh?” you hum, giggling. “What’s that? Satoru begging now? How the tables have turned…”

He groans again, “S-Sick, innit? The way I want to be balls deep in that wet ass cunt. Don’t wanna wait anymore. You’ve kept me dangling for so long. Please-“

He whines. He actually whines, followed by a low whimper as he pokes out his bottom lip and lifts his head to look at you again.

A smart move on his part because you are absolutely hypnotized by his eyes, and before you know it, your hand is passing the elastic band on his black boxers. You find your hand running over bare skin - what a slut, he’d shaved. You gasp as you continue to slide your hand down to try and grab his tip - but it’s not there. It’s so far deep into his pants because he’s simply that large.

You scoot back on his lap a bit and finally whip his cock out, and it bounces a bit at its own sheer heft. There’s a pretty curve in it and thick veins swirling the sides, leading to a fat pink tip.

You realize you’ve been staring, but also slowly stroking it, admiring the fuck out of this perfect cock that you knew you would be thinking about for weeks.

“Like what you - hah - s-see?” he coos, closing one eye and glancing down at your hand sliding delicately over his length with his other.

“Mhmm,” you reply, “just imagining how good it’s gonna hurt. Your cock gonna make me cry, ‘Toru?”

“F-Fuck yeah,” he shudders, “gonna have you screaming, pretty. Loud as you want - no one can hear. Need you to milk this cock.”

“S-Shut up,” you groan, only because his words were driving you mad - and you would not last even another sixty seconds without his length penetrating your poor insides.

But, you suddenly remember the whip on your waist. Albeit made out of a cheap, rope-like material, the gears in your head start twisting like the delinquent that you are.

You catch Satoru’s wondering eye as he silently asks you why you aren’t bouncing on his cock yet - but you manage to ignore the expression as you thwip out the long black prop and quickly get it around Satoru’s neck before he can so much as gasp in surprise.

His eyes widen when he realizes you’ve made a leash out of your whip, tightening it at the base of his throat and coiling it around your wrist, bringing his face closer to you.

He’s so stunned that he remains silent, but his plump lips are parted in surprise, which you take as an opportunity to bite into the bottom one - harshly.

You suck on it as you lift your hips and your free hand finds the base of his cock - then you slide it between your folds very purposefully and agonizingly slow.

“Holy fuck,” Satoru whimpers against your mouth. “Y’doing me so dirty, Y/N, fucking ruining me. God…” he adds, “I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

You gasp at the confession, and then at the feeling of his tip pushing into your dripping hole, as you drag your hips down to sink yourself onto him.

His eyes immediately roll back, and you let go of his lip, keeping your grip on the whip as your pussy adjusts to his size - feeling the drumming pulse coming from his veins tap your walls erotically.

You try not to clench, but as you suspected, it hurts so good - you’re trying not to focus on the pain. But he’s just so thick, so filling.

You whimper and in the same moment, feel a coil of fingers wrapping into your hair, curling it around his knuckles to keep you from moving your head.

“Ride this shit,” he growls, his eyes suddenly back open and completely aware. “Put those sexy ass hips to use.”

He grips one with his free hand for emphasis, tightening his grip on your hair, suddenly making you wish you’d opted for the ponytail tonight. You cry out at the mixes of searing pain and pleasure, as you’ve managed to take all of his cock inside of you - his tip kissing your cervix painfully. You decide now you can try to move, so you use your toes to push yourself back up, finding your pace.

“It’s too big,” you complain, albeit very fakely; your grip on the whip turning your knuckles white as it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself.

Your other hand digs into his shoulder, and he hisses.

“Nuh-uh,” he coos, “you can take it, pretty. Deep breaths, know you can be a good cockwarmer f’me.”

Your breaths are coming out in short little pants. Slowly you’re adjusting to his size, and with you slicking up his cock it’s easy to start gliding sinfully up and down, up and down-

Satoru leans forward against your restraint and greedily takes your mouth onto his. He squeezes your hip harshly to get you to moan, then shoves his tongue hungrily inside your mouth. While his tongue works on harassing yours, his cock works on bruising your uterus. You’re bouncing quicker now, but he’s meeting you halfway with animalistic thrusts of his own.

Aside from heavy breathing, the squelching sound of your wet walls against his dick accompany the clapping of your ass against his groin. You start rotating your hips, bringing one forward before the other, creating a wave-like motion as you ride your slutty little half-horse into oblivion.

His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes shut tight, his mouth only hanging onto yours by his teeth as he continues to whine into the air. You yourself have gone up a few octaves, your moans competing with his, making the atmosphere even more erotic.

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru moans, “s’tight. S’good. Such a perfect fucking pussy, fits right over me. This shit was designed just f’me. Fuck, wh-why you fuckin’ me like this?” He shudders under you, releasing your lip from his teeth and opening his eyes. “Y’must want my fuckin’ babies, all in your stomach.”

Your eyes roll back as you repeat a very sultry, “All in my stomach.”

So cockdrunk off him, if he wants to fill you to the brim you’ll let him. You’ll let him have his way with you however he wants, at this moment, if it meant he’d keep fucking up into you this good - if it meant you could have his cock more than just tonight. You’d never wanted to obey and be so good for someone before now.

“You are being so good,” Satoru purrs, which makes you realize you said the last sentence aloud. “My pretty ponytail. Taking me so well. I know it hurts, baby, but you got it. You can have all of my cock - anytime you want. I-I’m…” he had been speaking clearly, but a particular thrust had made him lose his footing, bringing back his tipsy voice, “I-I’m yours to use. To ruin.”

Your eyebrows furrow, you gasp at the velvety statement. You know he’s just drunk, you are too, but you’re so incredibly fucked. Despite his words, he’ll probably never even look at you again after this, and it pains you deeply. You can’t think about that now though, because heat is rising in your stomach.

“God, Satoru,” you mumble, “keep fucking talking. Keep talking so I can cum all over you. Please, please, f-fuck.”

“Ngh, need you to cum,” Satoru says. “Wanna feel the way you pulse when you cum. Bet you can squirt f’me too, huh? Know you’ve got it, so wet like that.”

You shake your head, your hand loosening the grip on the whip; you just don’t have the strength anymore.

You lean back, arching against him, and he takes the opportunity to pop your breast right into his mouth, gripping onto your nipple with his teeth before he sucks like a starving man.

“P-Please, God… mmph,” you drag out, eyes rolling as you can barely bring yourself to make noise with the overwhelming amount of pleasure you’re experiencing.

But you’re taken by surprise when his hand is suddenly coming away from your hair, and his arms wrap around you in a tight bear hug. Your hand has no choice but to fall from the whip as your own arms wrap behind his neck to steady yourself - and just as you think you’re about to regain balance, Satoru starts mercilessly slamming his hips up into your ass.

“SHIT!” you scream out, the loudest you have since being in the car.

Flap, flap, flap - as he absolutely destroys the inner workings of your slick pussy - determined to bruise your cervix and leave it swollen and aching for him.

“You. Are. Gonna. Cum. For. Me,” he grits, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

You feel tears brimming your eyes; it’s just so good, hurts so bad, you can’t get enough.

You find yourself seeing and saying nothing but his name over and over for the few seconds right before your orgasm, and then your poor body is spasming on top of Satoru’s as he fucks you through your high - your insides clenching and twitching, and then a gush! as your body has decided that an inner orgasm isn’t enough. Satoru was right - you’re squirting all over him, his pants, and the backseat.

His eyes bug out as his eyebrows furrow, taking in the sight of the magnificent pool you’ve left on him.

“So fucking hot,” he moans, “can feel that shit pulsing on me. F-Fuck. My turn—“

This brings him over the edge right along with you. You’ve gone limp against him, leaning your entire torso on his as he maintains his hug on you and squirts his thick ropes of hot cum all into your uterus.

You cannot see anything except white stars in your vision as you’ve lost yourself in recovering from your orgasms, and he’s not bothering to slide himself out of you just yet.

“S-So addicting,” he sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder, his hat finally falling off behind him, revealing the fact that his hair is stuck to his sweat-covered forehead.

His cock is twitching inside of you, but you can’t think about that now. You’re trying to regain your sight as well as the ability to breathe.

You lay there against each other, still filled up. His grip has loosened on you, but his hands are delicately petting the skin between your shoulder blades, his arms not letting you go.

You’re now just trying to catch your breaths, bodies pressed together in a lustful bliss as you come down off of your highs, soberness creeping up on you.

“Was better than my fantasies,” Satoru says softly, his hands still gently roaming the skin on your back.

“Mine too,” you giggle in response, the pants slowly becoming normal breaths again.

Satoru gently tugs on your hair to bring your face back level with his, and looks up at you, as innocent as can be.

“Y’know what this means, right?” he questions, squirming a bit underneath you just to remind you that his cock remains inside of you. “You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. M’gonna need access to this pussy, at least once a week. If not more…” he tapers off before adding, “Only, of course, if you’re up for it.”

“Absolutely!” you squeak out a little too fast, to which Satoru gives you a charming crooked smile and leans forward to peck you on the lips.

“Well then,” he hums, “don’t think we can go back in the party with our cum all over us. Can I offer you a ride home, ponytail?”

You blink down at him. His gentlemanly nature from the party has returned, truly taking you aback, because of the way he was just muttering filth a moment ago.

You took him up on his offer though, legs shaking as you crawled to the front and got your skirt and boots back on. He’d had to exit the car and get back in, his long legs prohibiting him from just crawling to the front.

You can tell he’s sober now, he better have been, otherwise he wasn’t driving you anywhere. But you knew he was when his hand gently rested on the thigh he had abused the entire time, rubbing soft circles to soothe the red handprints he’d left.

You sigh, knowing you’re completely fucked. Hooking up with him was a step in the right direction, but who was to say he’d ever want to be anything more than this? Lots of things to think about, but right now, you just relaxed under his touch as he drove you back to your dorm.

And when you saw him again, it would be at your scrimmage a week later. You’d already filled your girls in on everything, down to the nasty details they’d begged to hear. That’s why they shoved you off the bleachers the minute it appeared that Satoru’s team was done practicing.

Satoru arrived in the hallway right on cue, and you hit him with your customary bump of the shoulder.

“There you are, ponytail,” he mutters, glancing around before gently pulling you into a maintenance closet. “Thought you’d bailed on me.” He presses a fat kiss to your forehead, making your heart flutter. “Been thinking about you all week, need to take some stress out on that pretty pussy.”

You squeak quietly, running your fingers through his hair, missing the way he looked in his Stetson but being able to appreciate his practice attire just the same. His hands find the band of your jersey shorts and begin tugging them down.

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” you coo quietly, your back hitting the wall. “How d’you wanna do this?”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed you on top last time,” he purrs, “but - hah - sometimes, even the cowboys need a break from riding.”

I. AM. SO. FERAL FOR JOCKEY/COWBOY GOJO WTFFF

And he’s such a gentleman STOPP <33

ok this was the most fun thing ive ever written. that’s all bye.

~ pennjammin

[ybklix]

playing with his hair

giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮‍💨)

genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls

Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.

Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.

Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.

“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.

He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.

Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.

“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.

“With what?”

“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.

Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.

“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.

“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.

You sit back down on his lap.

“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.

You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.

“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.

Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.

Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.

You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.

You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.

Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:

“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”

A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”

With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.

Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.

You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.

“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.

Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.

You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.

——————-

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