#because even just typing it makes me feel dirty
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astr-venus · 2 days ago
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。⁠☆Loser Boyfriend。⁠.゚⁠+⁠ 
☆Cw: one use of "her", Mina calls you girl once, embarrassment, fluff, humor, rookie!prohero!deku
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"Izuku, dude, no offense, but how did you land that?"
Izuku turns to Denki, looking just as lost as he does. There's a little flush on his cheeks and a wide eyed expression on his face. The boy looks like a confused baby dear, which truly only adds to Denki's confusion.
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Teach me your ways." Denki says, comically whipping out a notepad from his pants pocket. "Did you grovel? Cry? Feed her a love potion but disguise it as juice so that she would drink it, but have no clue what it was?"
"N-No of course not!... And I'm pretty sure that would be illegal anyway..."
Denki shrugs, "Hey I don't know your life. You could be into some weird shit on the down low, you seem the type!"
Izuku responds with an eye roll. If anyone 'seems the type' it's Mineta and Denki himself. They turn back towards you instead of continuing the conversation. You're still in the same position you were in before; fully leaned over the back of the couch, legs closed with one slightly hanging in the air, while the rest of you is inside Mina's personal space giggling at something she's showing you on her phone.
You're in some cute little outfit that Izuku helped you pick out, a rare case, since Izuku still wears almost exclusively punny t-shirts and sweats. The only reason he helped is because it's your first time meeting his friends and former classmates, you just wanted to make sure the outfit wasn't too little or too much. This is not to say he was much help.
Izuku feels almost entranced by you, and you're not even looking at him. You haven't glanced his way since Mina took your attention, actually. Izuku could start pouting if he wasn't too busy ogling your backside. He's so busy he misses the picture Denki snaps at the enraptured look on his face.
"C'mon man, let's go raid the snacks before Kaachan forces us to leave the kitchen."
Denki's arm around Izuku's shoulder shakes him out of his stupor and he nods in agreement, not really having heard what he said at all. He allows Denki to lead him to the kitchen with only minimal glancing behind his back, just to get a little more time to soak in your image.
But he doesn't expect your eyes to catch. He has no time to prepare for the heat in his pink cheeks to spread to his ears, no time to prepare for your smile to make his heart thump in his chest. It makes him lightly stumble in his steps and turn to face forward again, feeling incredibly embarrassed.
"Oh, Izu! Can you come back for just a sec?"
Izuku breaks out of Denki's hold with not a single lick of hesitation, embarrassment be damned. His world shortens and zooms in when you talk, the feeling of embarrassment, as well as Denki's voice, becomes muffled in the face of it. None of that matters if you're the one who needs him.
"Look at this picture Mina has of you!"
It's the picture All Might took of him before he bulked up. The one where he's dirty and sweating and crying after trying to haul a fridge across a beach. Izuku thinks he might die. Where did she even get that picture?
His face must say a lot, because both you and Mina burst out laughing. You're trying to reassure him, but you're laughing so hard you're struggling to gain a breath to string words together. If the floor swallowed Izuku whole right now, he would be grateful. It was a terrible idea to bring you to meet his classmates, especially a gossip like Mina.
"Oh, baby no, don't look like that!" You gasp, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's not nearly as comforting as you're trying to make it be.
"Izuku you look like a total loser, good thing you gained some muscle there, pipsqueak!" Mina chortles.
"Oh stop it! He doesn't look like a... Loser... I think it's cute!"
"Keep telling yourself that!"
Izuku has never considered the merits of getting hit by a bus before, now is a better time than ever to start.
Your arms wrap around him, and he instinctually hugs you back. You press your still smiling face into his chest, and turn towards Mina, still a little breathless.
"It's okay Izuku, I'll protect you from Mina's mean words." You giggle.
Mina is quick to start booing you, but Izuku doesn't miss the picture of him being sent to an unsaved number in her phone. Oh she's going to get it next time they spare together, and he will make absolutely sure it is soon. She doesn't get to run away from the enemy she has created today.
"Whose side are you even on, girl?" Mina huffs playfully, turning back to her phone and sitting back down on the couch.
The party goes smoothly after that, mostly because Izuku doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night. He refuses to let any of his other classmates show you blackmail. Even when you go to the bathroom he stands right outside the door, waiting for you to come back. At one point during the night Katsuki told him he looks like a stray puppy, and before he could deny it, you responded, "it's cute, part of his charm". He elected to ignore the way it made his chest puff out.
He likes to believe you think of him less as a puppy and more of a guard dog. He will not be confirming or denying this with you.
Before long, the party is over. Despite the little mishap with Mina earlier, he's satisfied. You were both fed well, and you very clearly had a good time with his friends, so he considers the night a success. He knew that you'd been nervous about the whole thing, his reassurances hadn't done much to sway you, but you had a great time. Just like he said you would.
As he's pulling the car out of the driveway, you turn to him, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Izuku hopes you don't notice how heavily he swallows when you look at him, your expression is making him nervous.
"Mina sent me that picture of you."
The car lurches as he slams on the brakes. "She gave you her phone number?! Noo she's gonna show you how much of a loser I am!" He whines, putting his head into the steering wheel.
"Izu, my love, you are a bonafide prohero who's about to hit the top 30 barely two years out of highschool, you are not a loser."
Izuku turns to you with a wobbly smile, forehead still lying on the steering wheel. "U-Uhm no, I totally am. Hero work aside."
You giggle, his heart stutters again.
"Well you're my loser then."
"Yours?" Izuku flushes.
"Mine."
And well, being a loser isn't so bad if it means he gets to be yours. Your boyfriend. Your guard dog. Your puppy. Your loser. Your anything. He can be anything, as long as he's yours.
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Love men who are losers and very smitten for their sweethearts, what can I say
。⁠☆Requests open
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punkshort · 5 hours ago
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Just This Once: Part Two
Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Your dad surprises you after work with a brand new bed as a late birthday present. The kicker? Joel is there to help assemble it, leading to a very tense afternoon.
Warnings: no outbreak au, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, phone sex (alluded to), sexual tension, references to masturbation (both), reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, sneaking around, mutual pining, takin' nudes
WC: 6.6K
Part One
Let me know when you get home safe
You smirk and collapse into bed.
I've been home for 20 min. What took you so long?
Then...
??
You roll your eyes and burrow deeper into your covers.
I thought you'd text me sooner. I left almost 40 min ago.
You wait anxiously for Joel to reply, staring at your screen for the words to appear. Truthfully, you have no idea what you even want him to say, just that you want to keep him talking.
I had no idea what to say
You grin and before you can reply, another text comes through.
Still don't
Butterflies bloom in your stomach as you type out your response.
Where are you?
It takes less than thirty seconds for him to answer: bed.
You're thinking about me in bed?
You can practically hear his heavy sigh from across the city.
We can't do that again, I told you
Do what?
Don't play dumb darlin - you know what
I just asked a question.
Your old man's got a shotgun in his basement, I've seen it
Your shoulders sag and you relent.
Ok ok.... it won't happen again and I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. Promise.
Good
And you think that's the end of it. After you don't reply to his last text and he doesn't add anything further, you roll over to switch off your lamp and you do your best to focus on falling asleep without thinking of Joel's deep brown eyes gazing up at you while you ride him, all hazy and filled with desire. You quickly find it's impossible not to and it has you tossing and turning while trying to ignore the fresh ache growing between your legs. You skirt your hand down past your sleep shorts with a frustrated huff when, to your delight, your phone lights up again.
What are you wearing?
---
It's Friday, fucking finally. Your entire week at work had been shit. You made one tiny mistake that ended up costing you three hours to fix, a mistake you don't normally make and you just know it's because you've been distracted.
It's been two weeks since you've gone to visit your dad, meaning it's been two weeks since you've laid eyes on Joel. That night you shared should have slowly become a distant memory, but instead you found yourself texting him every single day, making it impossible to forget. Sometimes it was innocent enough, but at one point or another the conversation always turned flirty, which then turned heated, which then evolved to one of you giving in and calling the other so you could whisper filth into the phone with your fingers stuffed inside your pussy, but no matter how much you try, you're never able to get as deep or make yourself feel as good as Joel did.
It's driving you crazy.
So when you arrive home from work Friday afternoon and throw your car into park, you're too distracted to notice a familiar pickup truck parked on the street. To be fair, you live above a restaurant, so there's often cars parked along the street. You've learned to block it out. But when you go to open your door only to find it already unlocked, your heart stutters in your chest and you glance around. That's when you spot your father's truck and you roll your eyes.
"Dad?" you call up the stairs from down below.
"Yeah, honey, up here!"
You close the door behind you and trudge up the stairs, dodging various pairs of shoes you store on the end of each step. Right when you turn to enter your kitchen, you hear your father talking and laughing with someone. You don't have much time to wonder who it is because then you hear his voice, all low and velvety smooth. The very same voice that just the night before was telling you through the phone how much he missed your perfect, soft pussy and then begged you for a picture.
It suddenly became impossible to breathe.
"Hey, Kiddo," your dad says when he steps out of your bedroom. He's carrying large cardboard pieces to the stairs and sweat coats his face. "Me 'n Joel are puttin' your new bed frame together. Almost done."
Him and Joel. Joel. Putting together your bed. Joel is in your bedroom.
Your skin feels like it's on fire and your blood is pumping so fast, it makes you lightheaded.
"Uh, w-what new bed frame?" you stammer, forcing yourself to move out of his way.
"The one I promised for your birthday," he calls over his shoulder from your stairwell. Your eyes rake across the kitchen towards your open bedroom door, but Joel is nowhere to be seen. "Sorry it took so long but I told ya I'd get to it."
"Oh," you say, "uh, t-thank you. You didn't - um - you didn't have to do that."
Your dad emerges from the stairs and your gaze sweeps back over to him.
"Sure I did. It's your birthday present. 'Sides..." He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and looks to the floor when he says, "felt bad 'bout our fight. Wanted to make things right, check in on ya. Miss seein' you 'round."
"Oh, Dad, it's fine. I'm not mad anymore, I've just been busy with work and stuff," you say. He looks down at your work clothes: a thin blouse half tucked into an off-white pencil skirt and heels.
"Look so grown up," he murmurs softly. You give him a small smile and shrug, temporarily forgetting Joel is just in the next room until your dad says, "Don't my little girl look all grown up, Joel?"
Joel's standing in the doorway to your bedroom, staring at you across the kitchen. You swallow and tighten your fingers around the edge of your counter and you fucking pray your father doesn't read the hungry look in Joel's eyes when he slowly and appreciatively sizes you up and down.
"Yeah," he finally says, voice only a little gravelly. It could be innocent, but you knew better. He clears his throat and tries again. "Look real grown up."
You give him a smile, one you hope looks natural. "Thanks, Joel."
Your dad snorts and crosses the kitchen, heading back towards your bedroom to finish your bed frame. "Callin' him Joel now? Since when?"
Joel locks eyes with you and you see it. You fucking see that heated look he gives you, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about: you, grinding down on his lap and whispering little teases in his ear while calling him Mr. Miller.
"Oh, uh, I-"
"I told her to," Joel says over his shoulder once your dad disappears into your bedroom. Joel's eyes remain firmly pinned on you when he adds, "She's grown now 'n all."
Your eyes widen and you shoot him a look, but Joel just grins and turns back around, back into your fucking bedroom, to help your dad finish up.
Your head spins. This is not the way you wanted Joel in your apartment for the first time. You tiptoe in your heels to peek inside your room, where your father is sprawled out on your carpet with a wrench and Joel is holding your new padded headboard in place. Your dad is murmuring to himself as he focuses on securing the headboard to the rest of the frame but all you can focus on are Joel's massive hands curling around the beige fabric. You bite your lip and lean casually against the doorframe, allowing yourself to fantasize about Joel's grip on that headboard while he's pounding into you over and over and-
"I'm gonna order some pizza!" you exclaim suddenly. Your dad pauses and looks at you curiously but Joel just smirks. There's no possible way he didn't see right through you. Not with that smile and the way his cheeks tinted.
"Alright," your dad says slowly before focusing back on his work. You hurry into the kitchen and place an order from the restaurant downstairs, then anxiously look around. You're lucky your place isn't messier. At least your laundry is put away and the only dishes in your sink are from breakfast.
Still in your work clothes, you wander over to check your fridge, delighted to find that you have a few cans of beer left over from your friends.
In your bedroom, you hear your dad tell Joel he's all done. You hear shuffling and you imagine they are putting your bed back against the wall because next, they pop out of your room and head towards your living room, where your mattress and boxspring are temporarily being stored.
Joel tosses you a wink as he trails after your dad and you have to turn around and do the dishes so they don't see how flustered you are.
Your legs press together when you hear Joel's familiar grunts from somewhere behind you while he and your father struggle to drag your boxspring and then your mattress back in place. You're scrubbing a plate so fucking hard, you're surprised it doesn't shatter in your hands because you can't stop thinking about Joel and all the things you'd let him do to you if your dad wasn't there at that very moment.
"- you listenin' to me?" your father's voice says, causing you to jump and drop your sponge.
"Huh?"
You look at him, trying to ignore Joel next to him as he sheds his flannel and plucks loosely at the black t-shirt underneath, unsticking it from his sweaty chest. Fuck.
"Said Joel's gonna take the trash out and I'm gonna go grab that pizza. How long they say it'll take?"
You blink, blood singing hot in your veins when you mumble should be ready soon, then slowly dry your hands on a towel while your father and Joel collect the trash from your bed frame to take down to the dumpster.
Your apartment is silent for a few minutes after they disappear outside, the only sound coming from your heart pounding steadily in your ears as you wait for the door downstairs to open again.
When you hear the squeaky hinges open and close, then the dull, slow thud of his footsteps climbing the stairs, you remain stock still at your sink. Your fingernails press so hard into the stainless steel, it's a wonder they don't break. You can't bring yourself to turn around when he steps through the door, back into your kitchen. He told you it couldn't happen again and you agreed, but your phone calls the last two weeks spoke otherwise.
Without saying a word, Joel's on you in an instant, spinning you around and crashing his mouth hungrily against yours, driving away that little voice in the back of your head that keeps reminding you just this once, just this once.
You nearly crumple in his arms, feeble fingers digging into his shoulders for something to hold onto. His tongue slips past your lips with a groan and his hands grab eagerly at your blouse, bunching up the fabric in his fists, too fucking crazed and desperate to feel you again.
You whimper and he swallows it down, big hands releasing your shirt to travel lower and grab at your ass confined in your tight skirt. His skin is slightly damp with sweat and he tastes so good and feels so warm that it has you guiding his hand to the zipper of your skirt, encouraging him to pull it down.
"Can't," he mumbles before latching his mouth onto your neck.
You're impatient. You rake your fingers through his tousled hair and he sighs against your throat.
"Y'smell so good," he says, body pressing against yours, pinning your back to the edge of the counter.
"Joel-" you beg, but he keeps talking and his hands keep searching, grabbing for any part of you he can find.
"Been half hard since I got here," he admits, the confession sending a shock of arousal straight through your stomach and down to your core. "Got any idea what it was like for me to be in that room, movin' that mattress, knowin' you were fuckin' yourself right there last night?"
You gasp and claw at his hair, his neck - anywhere - while his mouth drags down the column of your throat. He ruts his hips against your stomach and you squeak when you're reminded of just how fucking big and thick he is. You drop your hand and rub your palm against the soft denim, over his impossibly hard cock caged in his jeans, and you whine in his ear. A wordless plea.
"Can't," he says again, but his hips buck forward, chasing your hand. He pulls you closer, his teeth scrape your jaw, and then his lips are seared over yours once again, smearing whatever remains of your lipstick.
Joel gasps and breaks the kiss but keeps his hips firmly pressed into your palm. He looks down at you like he wants to swallow you whole, his brown eyes so dark they look nearly black. One hand lifts to get tangled in your hair as you both fight every impulse to tear each other apart right then and there.
"I'll ... I'll call you tonight-" he begins, voice sounding pained. You shake your head. His grip in your hair tightens.
"No, Joel, please," you beg. Not another phone call. If you didn't know any better, you sound as if you're on the verge of tears. He sighs and presses his forehead to yours, his wet lips hovering over your mouth when you say, "it's not enough. I need you. Please, Joel, I can't-"
The door downstairs swings open and you fucking fly apart. Joel's eyes, which were just filled with lust, now are wild with panic.
"Go to your bedroom, y-your hair and-" he waves his hand in front of his mouth and you hurry away as he's wiping the lipstick from his own mouth, closing the door behind you. A few seconds later, the door to your kitchen opens and you hear your father's voice. With trembling hands, you unbutton your blouse and unzip your skirt so you can change into more comfortable clothes while you hear plates being pulled from your cupboard. Your dad is telling Joel some story about the customer ahead of him in line who was asking every question under the sun about the ingredients in their sauce as you pull on a soft pair of leggings and an oversized shirt.
Before joining them for dinner, you tug a brush through your hair, taming the mess Joel's hand left behind, and wipe off the lipstick from your mouth and cheek. Once you think you look somewhat normal, although internally you might be on the verge of a fucking stroke, you take a shaky breath in and step out of your bedroom.
"Hey! There she is!"
You give your dad a weak smile and head for the fridge, avoiding Joel's eye but feeling his stare burning into your back.
"Here, I have a few of these," you say, grabbing the cans of beer and putting them on the table. "Some friend left them behind, I think."
Joel is sitting at your small, round kitchen table next to your father with an untouched piece of pizza on his plate. Meanwhile, your dad is nearly halfway through his first slice. You pull a glass from your cupboard and fill it at the sink, using the opportunity to take deep breaths and calm your nerves.
Unfortunately, when you turn around, Joel locks eyes with you and you feel as though you may melt into the floor. His fists clench tight on the table and you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it, but his chest rises quicker than usual and there's a pink tint to his cheeks.
You sink into the chair across from him and shakily pick a piece of pizza from the box. You're hungry but you're so fucking turned on, it's hard to think about anything else. The pull between your legs is so uncomfortable, it has you shifting your weight in your seat while you take a few small bites of food. Joel must be feeling similarly because out of the corner of your eye, you finally see him slowly unfurl a fist and pick up his pizza.
"You seein' someone?"
Your eyes snap up to your father and you freeze. "What?" you ask breathlessly.
He points to the beers before grabbing one and cracking it open.
"You said a friend left 'em. You seein' someone new?"
Your throat closes up. You shake your head and take a bite of pizza so you can avoid elaborating. Across from you, Joel stiffens but remains silent. Your dad chuckles and he elbows Joel, snapping him out of his trance.
"'Member when we'd sit on the porch, waitin' for her dates to bring her home?"
"That only happened, like, twice," you mumble.
"Boys need'ta learn early on not to mess 'round and have some manners. Kept 'em in line," your dad continues, grabbing another piece of pizza. "Say the word and I can do it again-"
"How about you, Dad?" you ask, cutting him off. You can practically feel the tension radiating off Joel's shoulders from the direction the conversation was heading, and you need to put a stop to it. "Are you seeing anyone?"
The distraction is sufficient. Your dad launches into a ten minute monologue about his dry dating life while you and Joel do your best to act interested. The last fucking thing you want is for your dad to scare Joel off by reminding him of his fierce, protective side. Like he isn't already aware.
But perhaps you were too late because after they both finish eating and say their goodbyes, Joel can't look you in the eye. Something tells you that it isn't because he's trying to hide his attraction for you. You can't put your finger on it. Something about his body language and energy just seem... off. And then sure enough, hours later when you are distracting yourself with television after sending Joel multiple unanswered texts, you think your suspicion is correct.
---
A loud pounding on your door wakes you from a deep sleep. You startle awake with your heart in your throat. Your television is still on, forgotten, just like your phone buried somewhere in your sheets. You stumble out of bed after another knock that threatens to bring down the entire building and squint at the microwave to check the time.
Just past two in the morning. What the fuck?
You are about to go downstairs when logic prevails and you go to your window, instead.
The only car on the street is Joel's truck, right in front of your building.
Shit.
You fucking race to your bathroom and gargle with mouthwash for about three seconds. As you are hurrying down the stairs, you comb your fingers through your hair, hoping you look decent enough but knowing deep down it wouldn't really matter.
When you open the door, a shiver shoots down your spine.
"Joel," you barely get out before his crowding you, pushing you up against your stairs, mouth already devouring yours as he kicks the door shut behind him.
You curse, but it's muffled. His mouth is hard and insistent against yours, almost like he's angry, but not at you. His hands scan your body, over your pajamas, your face, your exposed skin, while his tongue explores your mouth. It's familiar now, for you both, under the cover of night once again, where your secret can remain safe.
It's a miracle you make it up the stairs without falling. You don't remember his mouth or hands ever leaving you as you stumble through your kitchen and into your room.
The television still plays in your otherwise dark room. Flickering lights dance across the walls, soft syndicated laughter is registered in the back of your brain. He untangles one hand from your hair and the other he pulls from underneath your shirt, then he takes a step back. You both drag in air, panting and studying each other's faces. His cheeks look flushed and your skin feels just as hot. Hair equally wild. The energy between you is palpable, crackling like electricity.
"Thought you got scared off," you say, breaking the silence. He blinks.
"Why?"
You shrug, already wishing you had waited til later to bring this up.
"You seemed weird when you left."
His throat bobs and he shakes his head, then his gaze shifts to your chest before finding your eyes again.
"Just needed to get the hell outta here 'fore he noticed somethin' was goin' on."
You nod slowly. Oh. So maybe you're a little paranoid. It doesn't explain the unanswered texts, but you don't feel much like talking anymore.
You dip down, crawling backwards onto your bed and whisper his name, dropping your head onto your pillows with a sigh, then fight back a smile at the greedy way his eyes rake up and down your body.
"Come here," you say quietly. You reach your arms out and wiggle your fingers. His dark eyes lock with yours and you grin.
His hands fall to his belt and warmth pools low in your stomach, deep between your legs. You squirm impatiently when he slowly slides the leather through his belt loops.
"Just..." he begins, pausing when you sit up to toss your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare to him. He swallows hard and continues. "Just one more time."
You would have agreed to anything in that moment, so you nod while he pushes his jeans down to the floor before lowering himself to your bed. He crawls over you and your legs spread so his hips can settle there, pressing against your aching cunt. His arms tuck underneath your shoulders and just the weight of him pressing against your chest and pushing your legs apart is so fucking exquisite that it has your own hips circling for friction. You moan into his mouth when his lips find yours again and everything feels right, so fucking right, that tears burn the back of your eyes.
"Bad girl," he murmurs against your lips. Your fingers card through his thick, wavy hair and you smile. "Textin' me when I'm out with your old man. Coulda got me killed."
"You - what?" you breathe, tipping your head back so he could leave wet, open mouthed kisses along your throat. He sucks a little mark over your pulse point and then his lips find yours again before answering.
"Went out for a few beers after we left," he says while tilting his head to the opposite side. His tongue glides back inside your mouth and you taste it now, the remnants of the drinks he had earlier. Your fingers in his hair tighten. Relief washes over you.
You decide to ignore how obviously desperate you are for Joel's attention - something you know is a bad sign. Instead, you sigh and rut your hips upwards a little harder, pulling a low groan from his throat.
"Did you have fun?" you ask with a teasing grin. He picks up on it and growls, then palms your hip, squeezing the soft skin there, pulling you closer.
"Not as much fun as I'm havin' now."
You giggle when he pinches you and you try to squirm away, but you're still pinned helplessly underneath his broad frame.
Joel laughs, too, before leaving a trail of gentle kisses across your chest. It feels so loving and sweet that it has your breath catching in your throat even before his mouth latches onto your breast, tongue teasing your nipple with a satisfied hum before doing the same to the other.
"I missed you," you whisper boldly, pulse thrumming fast in your throat as you wait for his response. Is it too much? Maybe. But it's true.
"Was just here a few hours ago," he says. You roll your eyes.
"Not what I meant."
Joel sighs and rests the side of his head against your chest. You're absolutely certain he can hear how fast your heart is racing. He wraps his arms around you a little tighter when he admits, "Me, too."
And it's enough, for now, to know he craved you the same way you craved him.
His hand skids down your bare side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until one finger hooks around the lace edge of your panties and gives them a playful tug. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and lift your hips so he can slide them and your shorts down your legs.
You become very aware you are stark naked underneath Joel Miller for the very first time while he somehow still has on his t-shirt and boxers. He pushes off the mattress and looks down to admire you all sprawled out for him and you feel a rush of embarrassment. That is, until he says-
"So fuckin' beautiful."
His voice is soft and filled with so much awe that you just might believe him. His gaze skims every inch of your exposed skin: your arms, your waist, your thighs. Like he's trying to memorize every little thing he sees.
"I want you," you gasp when his fingers delicately graze the inside of you leg. His deep brown eyes lift and he smirks when his fingers trail closer and closer to where you need him most.
"Yeah?" he asks. His voice sounds deeper and your legs begin to shake. His fingertips brush over your slit and you gasp again, body writhing on your bed - the bed he helped fucking build. You nod and lift your hips.
"Please."
Joel tuts and pushes one thick finger through your folds. He circles over your entrance but doesn't go any further. He just slowly slips his finger through your pussy, dragging it up, up, up until he's pressing down on your clit and you're moaning his name with your eyes squeezed shut.
"This what you want?" he breathes, arousal evident in his voice. You nod enthusiastically, chest heaving as he continues his slow, torturous route. Then he removes his finger and you whine in protest until your eyes reopen. He slips his finger into his mouth with a quiet groan, eyelids fluttering and you imagine his tongue swirling around, collecting your slick and swallowing it down.
You're afraid you may go insane if he doesn't fuck you soon.
"Joel-"
"I gotta- fuck," he moans before dropping onto his hands and settling his shoulders between your thighs. He pushes open your legs, spreading you wide so he can admire your glistening cunt up close. His teeth nip your inner thigh but his eyes remain glued to your center. "I gotta taste you, darlin'," he says, and it's amusing how he actually sounds filled with regret when he says it. You would have laughed if his lips didn't suction around your pussy a second later, tongue plunging through your folds just to flatten and circle your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to make your back arch off the mattress.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan his name. Your body is so wound tight, not only from earlier when he had you pinned against your kitchen counter with your father just downstairs, but from weeks without his touch.
"Can't believe how good this tight little pussy takes my cock," he mumbles, face buried between your legs, eyes closed.
Your thighs tremble underneath his hands, which are splayed wide, thumbs parting your lips to make way for his tongue. One of your hands snakes down to get lost in his messy hair, the other grips the sheets for dear life while Joel eats at your center with more enthusiasm than anyone else who has been in his position. By a mile.
His beard burns the inside of your thighs and in the back of your mind, you hope you'll still feel it in the morning. You're so desperate for any reminder of the way he tears you apart that you'll gladly embrace the discomfort.
Every time his warm tongue glides through your folds, he moans. Your face feels like it's on fire when you grind your hips onto his mouth, gasping and dragging in air like you're drowning. He seems to love it. Every roll of your hips causes him to squeeze the meat of your thighs, and when you whimper his name, all rough and needy, his tongue works even faster. He licks and sucks and moans into your cunt, and when he slides two thick fingers inside of you with ease, you curse and dig your heel into his back.
"Fuck," he whispers when he pulls his face away to catch his breath. He stares down at his fingers buried deep, watching the way you stretch for him, suck him in. His eyes go dark when a thick drop of your arousal slips down his fingers, pooling between his knuckles.
"Wish you could see the way this perfect pussy opens up f'me," he murmurs, still entranced.
You don't even think. Your mind is a hazy blur, heart thrashing in your chest at the way he holds you right on the brink of your release. So, you say, "Show me," and point to the Polaroid next to your bed.
Joel's eyes flicker, following your hand, and he grins.
You had been tinkering with it the past few days, trying to fix the blue marks that were showing up on all your photos. After cleaning the rollers and checking the expiration date on the film, you figured out a film shield was the answer and you had been taking test shots in your room since it had the best lighting.
Could he have taken pictures with his phone? Sure. But something about the way he handled the clunky camera with one hand was so fucking hot, you're eternally grateful you abandoned it on your end table.
He takes one picture, then two. The familiar whir of the rollers fills the air, drowning out the television behind him, then the photographs spit out, one at a time. You writhe a little when his attention gets drawn to the pictures and his hand between your legs stall. He waits about thirty seconds for them to develop, then without even showing them to you, he growls and drops them into the sheets. His mouth suctions over your pussy again and you gasp. He sucks and flicks his tongue over your clit while his hand pumps steadily into you, curling his fingers, making you nearly scream if it isn't for how fast and hard you're breathing.
"Joel-" you gasp, "Joel, I'm - I'm gonna -"
You struggle to finish your sentence but it doesn't matter. He knows. Joel hums between your thighs and works faster, devouring your cunt and dragging your orgasm out of you. Your body tenses and you cry out his name, but he doesn't let up. Not until your legs clamp the sides of his head does he remove his fingers to drink down every drop of your release, then he finally lets his jaw relax.
You're seeing stars. You have to be covered in sweat and you probably look insane, with your hair and eyes all wild while you lay there, completely fucked out.
He must enjoy it, though, because next thing you know he's covering you with his body once again. His lips are on yours and all you can taste and smell is you, but you aren't repulsed. In fact, you find you really fucking like it. When it's on him, when your taste and scent is mixed with Joel's, it's intoxicating.
"Shoulda done that last time," he rasps. He leans back to sit on his knees and tugs off his shirt, letting it fall somewhere on your floor. You blink and try to admire his bare chest while he's kicking his boxers off, but it's hard to focus. Then, just as fast as he sat up, he's back on you once again. His breath skips when he glides the tip of his cock through your folds, then rests against your opening. You're still struggling to come back to earth, body lax and sated and so fucking warm underneath him. He groans brokenly into your neck when he presses inside, reveling in how easily you welcome his cock now that he already worked you open with his mouth and fingers.
You make a soft noise and circle your arms loosely around his neck. There's no need to go as slowly as last time. You're so fucking soaked, you're more than ready for him, but he still takes his time. He holds your hip steady with one hand as he feeds you his cock, inch by inch, parting your walls and sighing against your dewy skin.
"Shit," he groans. His teeth pinch your throat when he bottoms out and you gasp. "This what you want? Needed my cock that bad?"
"Yes," you whimper, "Christ, Joel - yes."
He drags himself out and plunges back inside you with a rough grunt. Your legs fall open wider, giving yourself up to him entirely.
His beard is scratchy and it tickles your skin, making you shiver when his mouth traces the edge of your jaw. He fucks you slow and deep, like he wants to make it last, like he wants you to remember. Your lips find his shoulder and you leave a path of open mouthed kisses across his tanned skin. And when your tongue darts out to taste him properly, he groans and rolls his hips deeper.
It's perfect and intense and it's everything you could ever want.
"Jesus, look at you," he says. But you look up at him, instead. He looks how you feel - needy, wrecked, and desperate. Then his eyes fall between your bodies, where his cock slides in and out of you, coated in your arousal, and you groan when you see what he sees.
Look at us, you want to say, but you bite the words back. It feels like it's too much. But you think it. How could you not, when you seem to fit together so perfectly?
With his voice smooth and soft as velvet, he says, "Dirty girl... thinkin' 'bout me fuckin' you like this with your daddy in the room."
Your cheeks burn and you try to swallow, but your throat is too dry. When you meet his gaze, he looks different. He's worked up and his eyes are pitch black. His hips start to pound into you faster.
Your throat tightens.
"I- fuck," you choke out when he brushes up against a particularly sensitive spot. You try again. "Y-you're the one who kissed me whe-"
Joel chuckles and shakes his head, dark curls falling loose across his forehead.
"I saw the way you were lookin' at me 'fore all that," he goads, then leans down to nip at your earlobe before adding, "When we were puttin' together the bed. Tell me what you were thinkin' 'bout."
You whine and pitch your head back into your pillow. You can already feel your hips ache from how fast and hard he's fucking into you now. It has your breath stuttering and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
When you take too long to respond, his mouth suctions over your breast. His teeth leave a sharp bite on your nipple and you yelp.
"Tell me," he says again. You shudder, breath too shallow and quick to answer, so you grab one of his arms and lift it above your head. You press his hand around the padded headboard and he gets it. The smirk he gives you is deadly when plants his other hand into the mattress for leverage.
Your legs wrap around his waist and he starts to slam into you. Each thrust knocks the air from your lungs. He pushes you further and further up the bed until the top of your head hits the headboard. Joel sees it and he drops to his elbow. The hand that was pushing into the mattress is now cupping the top of your head and you think you might implode from the way his arm curls protectively around you while the other is gripping your headboard so tight, you can see the tendons twitching in his wrist.
"Like this?" he grits out. You nod, mouth agape and brows furrowed. Tears spring to your eyes as you teeter on the edge. He sees them and kisses them away when they fall. Ultimately, it's the hours and hours of pent up frustration that have you coming so hard, your vision goes white. But it's the combination of how rough he's fucking you and how sweet he's holding and kissing you that has your cunt pulsing around his cock, dragging out your orgasm for what feels like an eternity.
"Fuck," he gasps. His fingers tighten around the crown of your head and you feel his bicep flex along the side of your face. "W-where? Where, baby?"
His voice sounds urgent but you still take a second to soak in the word baby before murmuring inside, just like before.
He doesn't hesitate. He comes a moment later, yanking on your headboard for support with a loud groan. You hear it rattle and you plant kisses on the underside of his jaw, hoping to melt away some of the tension being held there.
His hips flex forward erratically, each push paired with a heavy grunt until he finally stills. His hand drops from the headboard and his face tucks into the crook of your neck.
You feel his breath fanning across your sweat soaked skin and you close your eyes. There's no rush, this time. There's no risk. So you lay there and catch your breath with Joel's massive body pinning you into the mattress and heavy cock softening inside you.
"Goddamn," he murmurs in between light kisses to your collarbone. You hum and soothingly run your palms up and down his back with your eyes closed. He shivers when your nails graze his spine and he holds you a little tighter. You swear you could fall asleep, just like that.
Joel begrudgingly lifts himself up to slide out from between your legs. His eyes flicker with something dark when he sees his seed leaking out of your spent cunt, but he blinks it away and rolls onto his back with a tired groan.
"Just need a second and I'll get goin'," he assures you. His forearm is thrown over his closed eyes and you take the opportunity to study his broad chest and soft belly in the glow from your television. God, he's so handsome. How did you not see it before?
"Why don't you stay?" you ask, voice raspy and thick. He peeks at you in surprise and drops his arm to his side.
"Yeah?"
You remember his comment last time, about his house feeling lonely, and it pulls at your heart. "Yeah," you say, shifting onto your side and wrapping an arm around his middle. You nuzzle into his chest and he drapes an arm around your shoulders.
"Okay," he says softly. "But next time, we're figurin' out a way f'you to stay at mine. Want you wrapped up in my bed, feedin' you breakfast."
"Next time?" you repeat, unable to keep the eagerness from your voice. "What happened to just this once?"
The hand drawing aimless circles on your arm stills.
"It... I - uh -"
You lift your chin and shoot him a sly smirk.
He rolls his eyes but you see the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Just go to sleep," he mutters. He sounds annoyed but you know better.
You close your eyes with a smile and his hand resumes stroking your arm.
Deep down, you know what you're doing is so much more complicated than what you're willing to admit within your four walls. Maybe you'll figure it out, maybe you won't. But neither of you are willing to think about that tonight. Because tonight, away from familiar, judgmental eyes, you're just two people seeking comfort in each other.
And it's enough.
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meritski · 3 days ago
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dangerously yours • wanderer x gn!reader
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Wanderer never liked the stars, so it made his lips twitch upwards slightly when he noticed how the cosmos were trying to copy the shine of your eyes. It was doing a horrible job, and here you were— mesmerized by it. Hah, how amusing.
The lies of Teyvat could never outshine you. Yet you seemed unaware of that.
How could he tell you the truth, which would lead you to watch the stars through tears? Which would lead your eyes to lose their brightness? A trait of yours that he adored? Never. He could never do that to you.
“Look, a shooting star!” The excitement of your tone made him snap out of his thoughts. “Did you wish?”
“Oh,” He was too caught up in watching you instead of the stars, it seemed. “I didn’t have the time.” The words slipped between his lips before he could even think. "Didn't have the time", coming from him— compared to you? Very funny.
Sometimes he regrets it. Maybe if he had wished that you were two other people— two people who need not say goodbye; the universe would pity him and listen, just for this once.
And sometimes, he doesn’t. Because you looked breathtaking that day(you always do), even though he didn’t have the breath you could have taken. If he did, all of them would belong to you, he swears upon it.
Noticing your curious gaze, he guessed you’d ask what he could possibly wish for. But the question never came, which caught him off guard. Instead, you proposed an idea. A silly one, but still endearing nonetheless. Just like you.
“Next time, then.”
He never saw any of them after you, which made him believe you were his shooting star, the only star he believed in, instead. It was a shame that none of the wishes he made while looking at you came true. You were the brightest of them all, who shone across his memory with a warm light. One that he would never forget.
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You would betray him, surely. He had known that from the start. Yet he also betrayed himself by not considering this a betrayal. Because how could someone as heavenly as you do something so sinful? How could someone’s words that sound like verses— he repeats them every night, engraving them into his memory so he will never forget them, as if he is a worshipper— be a lie?
He will live a long time— an eternity without you. This makes him wonder, is the only eternity he’ll gain from this cruel world a life without you? If so, he doesn’t want it. Even though it’s what he yearned for his entire life, you are what he will long for for the rest.
He will look into the faces of passersby, hoping to find something that will, for an instant, bring you back to him. Yet none of them compare with yours. Nor can they try to remind him of you. Yours was sculpted in his mind, he didn’t dare to dirty it with some forgettable facades that didn’t matter. You deserved much more than that.
Moonlit nights will feel strangely empty because there will be no answer when he calls your name into them. The sky you two once watched is starless now. He doesn’t have anything in his mind, other than you. And he doesn’t think he’ll in the future, either. His mind, thoughts, body, past and future, soul— everything belongs to you.
Always, the empty space in his chest will be aching for you. A cold reminder that he didn’t have a heart that could have belonged to you. If he did, all of it would belong to you. He, again, swears upon it.
You're something to believe in again— yet you are the type of person who has ceased to exist for him. He truly hates that.
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𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!
☆ the artblock + uni combo soloed me i am afraid </3
☆ the dangerously yours quotes on my fyp and my unhealthy obsession with wanderer resulted in this haha, not really my best work and it's also not proofread— yeah, it might get rewritten !!
☆ i actually was editing one of my drafts for kinich last time i checked... how did it come to this >,:
☆ i hope you guys liked it, hehe <3
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holylulusworld · 1 day ago
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Little Guy
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Summary: Your boyfriend is…horny … homesick. You can choose.
Warnings: teasing, sexting, light smut, doggy style, dominant Steve
A/N: Words in Italics are their messages.
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Another notification makes you roll your eyes. Your boyfriend has been gone for not twenty-four hours, and he won’t stop sending you messages.
Emoticons, one-liners, pictures. It almost seems like he turned into a homesick teenager—a horny one. The last few pictures left nothing to your imagination.
With his throbbing erection in his hand, he sent you the last picture, hoping for a reaction. No such luck. You’re drowning in work and cannot get distracted by his perfect cock, and cocky messages.
“Not now,” you grumble while typing away on your keyboard. “I must finish this project.” You shake your head when the next notification shows an eggplant 🍆 emoticon. “Christ, he’s persistent, and it’s me talking.”
Usually, you’re the needy and horny one clinging to your man. Most of the time, he barely can leave the bed because you’re all over him, day and night. He’s just that good.
Today, you cannot give in to your needs and send him a naughty picture or even a short video to help him get off. It’s important to you to get this project done today.
Your phone vibrates again, and again, and again until you finally unlock the screen to read the latest messages. “Holy fuck, he’s definitely on the edge.” You sigh deeply, reading the last line.
“Did you like what you saw, doll?” Of course, you did like the picture of his perfect cock, but you can’t let your mind wander to filthier things.
“Your dick pic?” You hastily reply to get back to your project.
“YES!!!!” 😏😏😏 He replies without giving you the chance to go back to work. Since you showed Steve how to use emoticons, he’s obsessed. Sometimes you don’t even know what he’s trying to tell you.
Fine. He made it. You will give him another answer to get back to work. You smirk before typing, “Can I talk to him?”
👀👀👀👀👀🍆🍆 “WDYM, doll?” More emoticons follow, showing his excitement.
“Okay, Loverboy. This is it.” You giggle while typing, “Exactly what I said, Stevie. I want to talk to him. Now. Be a good boyfriend and let me talk to him.”
“Oh doll, you’re so naughty. Yes, talk dirty to him,” Steve is quick to reply.
You take your time, giggling as you think about your next answer. While Steve impatiently waits for you to help him get off, you have other plans.
“Hey, little guy,” you reply, and turn off your phone, leaving Steve hanging. He’ll undoubtedly be offended hearing you call his dick little, but you won’t entertain him tonight.
Back to your project, you smile to yourself. You’re a little proud of ignoring Steve and will reward yourself with a little me-time with your newest toy. The one you’re hiding in your secret stash to keep Steve from destroying it.
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It took you four more hours to finish the project on time. You're proud once again for finishing and not thinking of Steve’s dick, or the punishment awaiting you.
You shiver in anticipation, knowing Steve won’t let you get away with your behavior.
Stepping into the bedroom, you sigh. It’s past midnight, and you’re too exhausted to take care of your needs. You’ll just lie down and forget about your new toy.
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Steve waits patiently in the shadows, his head dipped as you finally walk into the bedroom. 
Silently, he sneaks behind you, smirking as if you didn’t feel him watching you.
“You've been a very bad girl, haven't you doll?” he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. You whimper, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck. “I asked you a question!”  
“So bad,” you barely said the words before he shoved you down onto the bed, face pressed into the sheets. You can feel his erection press against your ass, teasing you through the thin fabric of your panties.
Steve laughs darkly, slowly peeling your panties down, exposing your pussy.
“You wanted me to come here to punish you, huh?  He growls in your ear, teasing your slick folds with the tip of his cock. “I had to ask Bucky to take the lead to come here and fuck obedience into my naughty girl.”
You whimper, desperately pushing back against his crotch. “Have it then,” he slides into you without hesitation, groaning as your heat welcomes him home. “Naughty whore teasing me all day. Ignoring me. Calling him little.”
Biting the sheets, you try not to make a sound. Steve wants to show off dominance, and you will let him have it. At least for tonight.
“Now you’re all silent and obedient with my cock inside your cunt,” he chuckles, hips starting to move. Steve sets a hard pace, pounding into your needy hole relentlessly. You write and moan, taking every deep thrust.
Steve leans forward, his breath fanning over your neck. “Doll, you're such a naughty little slut," he snarls in your ear, "taking my thick cock so well."
Your fingers clutch the sheets, and you cry out, feeling his cock finally touch that spongy spot inside of you.
“Please don’t stop,” you gasp and moan, knowing Steve loves to punish you with edging for being a brat.
“Oh, baby doll,” Steve taunts, stopping to move at all. “This is going to be a long night…brat…”
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drdemonprince · 3 days ago
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Re: what do dominant people need to recover after a harder-kink session?
Biggest things that helped me were taking some time afterwards to sit together, talk with her about what she had or hadn't enjoyed, just some reassurance that she knew I respected her IRL and that I only was willing to manhandle her in various ways because it turned her on, that I wouldn't ever purposefully do anything that she wasn't ok with, and so on. Basically just trying to get back into that soft/loving/protective mode, rather than rough/aggressive/etc
TBH, it's been a long time since I've had kinky sex, or any sex so I don't know what might help the best at this life point.
Something that I'm a bit nervous about wrt aftercare is having her confirm that she enjoyed it and wanted whatever we did to happen, but me going on some kind of shame spiral of worrying that she's just doing a fawn response and saying that because she wants to reassure me.
My current solution for that is that I'm just pretty tight about what types of harder kinks I'm willing to do at all, even if the woman says she wants it and enjoys it. Even if I might sexually enjoy certain types of CNC, for example, I kinda don't feel mentally/emotionally comfortable acting that kind of scenario out. Ignoring "no's" or getting really physically threatening, even as a LARP, are just things where I don't know if I can explore them in a way that won't make me feel like a bad person.
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Had an experience of this type that I had early in my sexual career and which went really badly, but idk if it's the kind of thing that you really talk about on here.
cliff notes: haphazardly established cnc, it was her idea, but I thought it'd be hot in the heat of the moment, she got really really into it and horny for it, I (man in the aggressor role) tapped out once it started feeling kinda real, I had a huge emotional crisis, we had a giant fight about it. It was not a fun weekend. We were too young and bad at communicating for that kind of thing, but also too horny and dumb to not try it. Rough combo.
Mostly just funny to try to explain to people that I was roleplaying the aggressor, and I was also the one of the two of us who had a panic attack.
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TBH, I had a lot of problems as a young guy with feeling guilt over how my sexual urges were bad or dirty in some way due to my libido being directed towards women.
I'd managed to internalize a really dysfunctional blend of messages about sexuality, growing up in a liberal family in a very conservative state. Like, when I was a teenager I felt guilty about things as benign as "liking doggy style", "enjoying receiving blowjobs", and "fantasizing about getting with two bi girls". The latter was a fantasy that I had like one time as a teen boy, and I felt so guilty about objectifying bi women that I was almost sick to my stomach. I was a weird teenager.
I did develop some kinks that are probably coping mechanisms or ways to avoid the guilt of being sexually forward, now that I think of it, as well as the anxiety of needing to make sure she's enjoying it.
While I am dominant-leaning I'm very much into being begged for stuff. The more I can trick her into begging for what she wants, and directing the encounter as the bottom, the better. Saves my attention and focus for doing a good job of getting us both off rather than having to decide what's gonna happen next.
Never understood the hate for submissive women who "top from the bottom", it's incredibly erotic to me.
omggg anon you sound like such a sweetie with such hot fuckin kinks that you also are so wound up about. understandably so of course. here are some of my thoughts.
"worrying that she's just doing a fawn response and saying that because she wants to reassure me"
I think you can get around this fear by being open-ended in the feedback that you request from subs. So, for instance, you can tell subs that one thing that you need as a form of aftercare and ongoing negotiation is for them to give you a reflection of their experience a day or some days afterward. This can happen in a conversation or via them keeping a journal or something similar. Ask them to describe what they liked, what they'd like to see go differently, what they want more of. This will get you a lot of feedback that is reassuring without you specifically having to ask for reassurance and feel like you're manipulating the conversation in some way.
I think once you have established a really good rapport with a sub and can communicate with them effectively (and TRUST them to tell you when things aren't working for them), then you can say, straight up "I feel like an awful person sometimes after doing CNC/etc, can you check in the next day to tell me you're doing okay and that I'm not evil?" Or whatever else you might need.
I get you very much about the gender political baggage that comes with wanting to be a Dominant man with woman partners... from the opposite side of things. One barrier to fully enjoying my kinks pre-transition was that I considered it totally socially unacceptable to be a "weak woman." I wasn't even especially feminist, it was more about not being taken advantage of and being worthless. I came from a cultural mileu in which women were expected to be strong and capable and practical, and in academia, women were similarly pretty no-frills and had to appear confident. I felt like being too passive would be unattractive or make me less human, almost. One way to get around this was transitioning. It was really a hell of a hack for this. I don't feel bad about being a passive hole getting used anymore, and I don't have to worry much about the motives behind my partner's Dominance... they're not seeing me as a gender stereotype of a woman anymore and so i'm freed of all that. For cishet couples, I think affirming one's shared feminist values etc is helpful for everyone involved, and clarifying that these roles are not inherent they are chosen.
My current dog handler/mommy interestingly needs a partner to beg for their cum before they can bust a nut inside someone. I don't know if it is for similar feminist/consent hesitation reasons because they're pretty good at letting loose on me otherwise, but they've articulated to me that it's a thing that they need. This was initially a challenge because we do pup play and I become really obedient and nonverbal. But we have found ways for me to signal to them that I want what they are doing and that i want more of it.
So for example, a few nights ago after they were really whaling on me for a couple hours, they stopped and said I'd been a really good puppy and they were going to give me a break. But I didn't want a break. I wanted them to cum in me. So when they rolled me onto my side, still inside me, I started wriggling against their dick and licking their hands and whimpering for more, which made them get really hard again and then they fucked the shit out of me for another 15-20 minutes before spraying a load way up in me. It was incredibly hot and tender.
Wanting your subs to beg for treatment from you is a great way of working with your anxieties and making an ongoing consent affirmation into a hot activity and another act of submission on their part. It's a great move. There's a few other things you can do as well when that fails. For example, when my Dom/mommy thinks that I might be getting too headspacey and zoned out of being fucked they will ask me to fuck them -- they'll stop moving and i have to hump at their dick and take it in as deep as I can get it myself. That shows that I'm still alert, motivated, and interested as hell in whats happening. just a really fun hot way to check in and get reassurance without breaking scene. I'm sure there's so many other options.
I hope you get to have fun out there with the kinky bisexual topping from the bottom women of your dreams!
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peppertaemint · 2 days ago
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JM & The Peacock
Quite a few people have been waiting for this post so I hope I can do it justice. Here we go…
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There are different ways for people to peacock, and different reasons why they might do it. Think about it like this: when you go to a job interview, you want to have a bit of pizzazz, right? You want the interview panel to walk away thinking, they’re a perfect fit, and forget about all the other interviewees. Peacocking is what people (and animals) do to show they are a good fit for something, and something is usual mating/partnering. *chokes*
Is it always romance and relationships? No. When we’re trying to make new friends, some level of peacocking can occur, too, depending on personality type. When we make new social connections, invariably people want to demonstrate their value as a connection. To a potential friend, you are saying “I’m fun” or “I’m worth knowing,” and you might do that by showcasing all your dirty Hannibal fanfics or your collection of priceless Fabrege eggs. 
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What does this have to do with our favourites, KM? Well, I hope I’m not bursting any bubbles here, but JK seems to have gone through a peacocking phase with Jimin lasting from sometime in 2014 and calming by 2018. And, just so we’re clear, I’m not talking about peacocking in the pick-up artist sense, where someone wears something outlandish to attract interest in hopes of a hookup. As I said, I’m specifically talking about the acts some people do to differentiate themselves as worthy mates. And these behaviours tend to have attention-seeking qualities, hence the connection to the word.  So, yes–you got me–I am saying that JK has done things to show himself as a good potential mate for JM. As much as I try to rationalize this list of actions, I can’t possibly understand them in any other context. If they just have a bromance, it’s the wildest bromance on record. o.O
Let’s get to it. JK loves demanding and holding Minnie’s attention. But, peacocking is more about sending a specific message through your actions to your desired. These are my favourite “peacocking” moments. Maybe you can even add to the list![[MORE]]
JK using a soccer ball to lure Tae away from JM and then take his place
This is a really early example and you could almost write it off as just a flirt tactic, if it wasn’t clear JK was scheming, knowing the camera was capturing everything he did. That means he knew that at some point JM would see what he did (message = received). Tae is sitting beside JM, so JK kicks the ball toward him, and as soon as Tae goes after the ball, he swiftly takes his place next to JM. This is a clever and cute way to demonstrate the lengths you’d go to be beside someone, and I would have loved to see JM watching this video at the time.
Consistently ranking Jimin lowest in looks
For the first year or so, JK was constantly put on the spot to rank the members according to their looks. Invariably, he always ranked JM the lowest. Why is this peacocking? It fits the pigtail-pulling school of flirting, of course, but it’s also a very loud way of differentiating yourself. He’s drawing attention to JM by placing him last over and over. I bet you never remembered how he ranked Suga, for example. He’s also showing daring because he’s not catering to the feelings of JM. In a lot of ways, he’s saying to JM, I know you can take it, so come play with me at this level. He’s not being mushy or soft. 
Backhug slow dance
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Hmm, doesn’t this look like something you’d expect KM to do now? But this is from 2015. They are at an event, dressed to the nines, and JK pulls JM into a romantic slow dance. He’s skirting his hands over his hip bones and pelvis, leaning and caressing. This is very “I’ve got you, babe, and I don’t care who knows.” Given the time frame of this, it feels very peacock-y and a little shocking.
The on-stage stare (0:10)
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Again, this is c. 2015ish. And this moment was one of their first, big public stares (lol, what a sentence). Prolongued, unbroken eye contact is not a platonic action, and JK’s body language here is very assertive. Since our society is super heteronormative (yuck), if you were to replace Jimin with a lady, what would your conclusion be? Probably that JK is “staking a claim” or “making his interest known.” Given the context of this moment (surrounded by an audience during a concert), it seems more like JK is making a statement to show his boldness and lack of fear when it comes to JM. He’s saying, Yep I’m looking at you and everyone can see. Got a problem with that? He’s setting a bar and asking JM to join him.
The Run BTS police episode with the spanking
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This clip has been discussed a million times, but let’s think about the context. They’re shooting a variety show. There’s probably 10+ people watching them behind the camera, plus the other group members. So what does JK do? He shows off his strength and his dominance, lol. He’s saying, I can take care of you but I can do with you what I please. And I don’t care who sees. If that sounds a bit too overbeaing, think of it like this: he’s saying, We can play like this, and I’ll start. And, if you watched the whole episode, you’ll know that JM does return the play. He smacks him a little too hard with a book. Oopsie! (caveat: we don’t know what was filmed first, but I would still hazard that the smack came after this).
Stealing candy from JHope to give to Jimin (6:55ish)
I love this one because it’s as basic as it comes. Minnie seems to want a candy, so JK just grabs it from JHope and gives it straight to Minnie. Well, he actually feeds it to him directly. Oh boy. And I love Hobi’s face because he’s smiling as he looks at JK, but once he looks away, he’s got unmistakable distaste on his face LOL. But, this one is really transparent, and JK’s self-satisfaction is apparent in his swagger as he does it. JK is like, You need something? I will get it for you, no matter what it takes (even if I’m annoying my Hyung). Showing preference and a willingness to put someone before others is a definite sign of interest and worthiness. I will put you first.
Walking through a sprinkler unbothered (BV2)
Okay, this is classic peacocking for a few reasons. Before JK walks through this sprinkler at the urging of Tae & JM, he was standing on the rocks looking at the ocean with the two. Then, a wave came in and splashed him, and only him. JM died of laughter, and JK was a little embarassed. It was genuinely funny. But, if you’re trying to impress your desired, you don’t want to let on that you’re annoyed/mortified that the perfect moment was wrecked? That would show too much ego and pridefulness. So, when there’s a suggestion to walk through a sprinkler, he accepts without hesitation: water is no foe of mine! It’s all about showing you don’t care in front of your desired, but also taking another opportunity to make that person laugh.  
Re-enacting Jimin’s songs & dances for comedic effect
There are many examples of this, especially of the song Lie in particular. JK loves to mimic his singing and dancing, but what’s really going on here? He’s showing he knows all of JM’s lyrics, how to sing the song and how to do all the dance steps. He’s also paying homage in a way that makes JM laugh. And, it also ensures all eyes are on him for something that relates to JM. Isn’t that interesting? o.O
GDA 2017 dance
Ah, this is one of my all-time favourite examples. Peacocking is all about drawing the attention of your desired, and what does JK do? He decides to sexy dance for JM on TV and in front of a live audience, and yes, that dance is for JM, not for us nor for the audience present… You might be thinking, oh, he’s just being goofy. Did you see JM’s reaction? That isn’t the reaction of “my friend is a goofball” – that’s rare shyness on JM’s behalf. This one, like others, is about fearlessness and not caring who’s watching. And that fearlessness is about daring to be a bit sexy for JM on purpose in front of others, as well as saying, I’ll embarass myself just to put a smile on your face.
As you can probably see from the list of examples, a lot of these actions are designed to invite JM to either play with him in a certain way, or show JK’s daring. Flirting (and mating) rituals are as much about play as they are the biological stuff going on in the background. We look for people who play how we play, enjoy what we enjoy and respond to our behaviours in a desireable way. Consider this: if baby JK did the slow dance with JM, and JM just turned around, slapped him and walked away, that would be a clear message, wouldn’t it? Or, if in the Run episode, instead of returning the play, JM was angry or annoyed, wouldn’t that show incompatibility and a misstep on JK’s part? Hmm!
As a relationship evolves, actions that would be seen as peacocking during a courthship period become affirmations. Examples of this could be grabbing the giant chunk of snow in the hills in New Zealand, the GCF video(s) and Rosebowl. And beyond these meaningful actions, JK’s peacocking has really translated into over-the-top, cornball flirting. Some examples:
Do you smell something burning? … My heart is burning.
What do you get when you mix blue and red? … That’s right, I purple you.
Singing “Jimin nothing stronger” to the tune of BwL.
Reading a fortune cookie to Jimin during an official interview (+room full of people) and saying his name informally. “May I say this to you? Jimin-ah, if you’re not #1, it’s okay. (Where are you going??) You’re always #1 to me.”
His mock use of the impersonal “Jimin-ssi” in so many different flirty tones.
Does JM peacock? He does, but not in the same way. JM is about affection and possession. JK has always been the apple of his eye, but over time, he became JM’s prize, or his prince to put it in a less weird way. And, JM has always been content to show his clear desire for JK without any subtlety. Perhaps we could think of it like JM tells and JK shows. JM does show too, but let’s consider these paraphrased lines: 
I like you so much I don’t know what to do 
I can’t live because of you 
We are in a love relationship 
On my day off, I will go on a date with Jungkook
I want to go on a trip with Jungkook
Jungkook I promised to go to the moon with me Jungkook
The person who makes me happiest is Jungkook
The thing that makes me happiest is when I wake up and see Jungkook
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goatschild · 5 months ago
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i love scogan it’s one of my favorite ships but it sounds like a fuckign std there’s gotta be a better name out there
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celestiamour · 2 months ago
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜
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ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)
contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman
➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!
₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!
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gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 
most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.
at least that’s what you believe most of the time.
you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.
you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 
he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?
these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).
they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 
what did your husband do for a living, exactly?
his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 
as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 
“what if he’s having an affair?”
you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”
today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 
“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”
“oh my god, could you imagine?”
“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—
“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”
“but he treats me so well—”
“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.
“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.
“right… thanks guys…”
that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.
you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”
“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 
“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”
“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 
it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.
“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.
he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.
you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.
he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”
“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”
“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”
“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”
“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”
you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.
it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 
at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 
then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 
you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 
as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 
your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.
his birthday?
an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.
your birthday?
wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.
the date of your wedding?
you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.
and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?
whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.
there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 
“ji-cheol?”
he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”
“what do you do for a living, exactly?”
a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“
“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”
“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”
“so he was right?”
he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 
“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.
he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.
“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”
you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 
“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.
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buckyalpine · 4 months ago
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18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).
She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.
He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-
Nothing worked.
He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-
"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.
Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.
She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.
"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-
"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.
Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.
-
"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.
"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"
He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.
"Fuck James, need more, pl-"
"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.
"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.
"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"
"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.
"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"
Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.
"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"
"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"
"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-
He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.
"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"
You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-
"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.
-
"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.
Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.
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gojosprettyprincess · 4 months ago
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Thinking about Pervert Yuji who loves and adores cutesy, girly girls who are shy and get flustered sooo easily. The ones whose face visibly heats up the second they receive a sudden compliment and cutely stutters their words when he stares them dead in the eye while talking.
The ones who act innocent and pure but their cunts immediately gets wet and aroused by his gross, perverted acts like when he’d quietly creep up behind you while you’re washing dishes and boldly grabs and squeezes two handfuls of your tits—his cock straining in his pants at the involuntary moan that escapes your soft lips as you plead and beg him to stop his assault.
He also loves the ones that are so obsessed and fixated on him that they hump the life-size teddy bear that he gifted you on Valentine’s Day—dragging your needy, wet core on the soft fabric, soaking it with your arousal as the sensation of the material rubbed against your clit in such a delicious way. The shiny, pink jewel plug that matched the color of his hair that you secretly bought because it reminded you of him, peeks out between the curves of your cheeks as the cool metal that stretched you out, jabs deeper against your inner walls as you rocked your hips.
Soft whimpers of desire flow from your glossy lips as your head falls back… your breath hitching with anticipation, “Yujii…fuck, wanna sit on your pretty cock till I make a dirty mess” you moaned sweetly, imagining his fat tip rubbing through your folds—smearing his pre-cum everywhere as your hand instinctively rises to caress your tits—imagining it was his hand, fondling with it in the lewd, perverted manner that he always does it in…
Not aware of the pair of perverted brown eyes lingering from the doorway, practically eye fucking you as he palmed his hardened cock, gently squeezing and teasing it through his pants to feel some type of friction—carefully trying not to make too much noise so you won't notice him because oh he loved the fucking show so much. His face is flushed pink with blush— almost the same color of his hair as you continued moaning out his name and begging him to fuck your little pussy even though, to you he wasn’t there. He tenderly dragged his tongue over his lips—licking it, the second he spots the pretty plug snugly nestled in your asshole. The color immediately catches his eyes—so cute of you to think of him this way. God you were just sooo perfect for him.
–––
“Yujiii, stop don’t– don’t stare please!” You begged shyly, your eyes screwed shut as you buried your face into the Kirby plushies that he bought for you. “Shhh baby, m’just admiring you… your pussy is so cute y’know that? It’s drooling s’muchh for me” he cooed softly, his thumb rubbing smoothen circles on your sticky clit as he stared at the wet white gush slowly steeping out of your pussy. The sensation of his touch was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as you felt a surge of desire wash over you.
“Mmm s’adorable baby,” he gingerly praises, his warm breath tickling your skin as he eagerly planted wet kisses on different areas of your butt, causing a symphony of soft moans to cascade from your lips. The sensation causes your body to arch even more in pleasure, making you relaxed yourself.
But that relaxed feeling quickly turned into panic when you felt his glossy pink lips on the entrance of your butthole, he moved both hands to the sides of your ass—spreading your cheeks apart so he can gain a closer view at your tiny o-ring. “Stopp…not there please!” you muttered defeatedly trying to assert your boundaries as his lips continued to press against your fluttering opening.
“But babyyy, I think she likes it—you should see how cutely she’s winking at me…so eager, just like you, pretty girl” he purred playfully, he leaned closer and stuck his pink tongue out and began swirling the tip against your puckered muscles, the slight tingling of the wetness from his tongue sending shivers down your shine as you clenched your hole tightly in response, your hands clutching the sheets as you buried your face further in embarrassment.
He felt as if his cock was about to explode in his boxers as he tried to pry your little hole open but failed miserably—if it was that tight that it couldn’t even handle his tongue, imagine how it’d feel wrapped around every inch of his pulsating length. With the plethora amount of carnal thoughts and dirty ideas racing through his brain...unfortunately for you, it’s going to be a long and forgetful night. Because Yuji always gets what wants, one way or another. :3
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tonycries · 10 months ago
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Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.
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Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 
Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm
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“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.
Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”
The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  
You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 
“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”
Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”
Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.
Well, there was still time. Right? 
Nonsense, maybe.
Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.
“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”
Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”
“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 
“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”
Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”
“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 
“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”
You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?
“Well, doll?”
Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”
Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”
Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”
And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.
The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 
You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 
And then he’s pulling away. 
It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 
Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”
Well. Two can play that game.
“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.
Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”
Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 
Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 
A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 
And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 
“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 
“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”
“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?
“Oh yeah?”
And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 
“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”
Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 
Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”
“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”
And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 
“Yeah, atta girl.”
Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.
“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”
Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 
But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 
With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.
“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 
“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”
“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”
He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 
Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-
“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”
His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 
It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-
“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.
Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 
“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 
“I- ngh- m’gonna-”
“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”
“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 
And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-
“Then cum f’me, doll.”
And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 
“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 
Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.
The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.
“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.
“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”
Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.
“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?
He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?
And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 
“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 
You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”
“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”
“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”
And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 
“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 
“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”
You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 
Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 
“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”
Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”
And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 
“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”
Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.
“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 
And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 
Nahhh
Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”
And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 
Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 
“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.
“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”
And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-
“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.
Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”
If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.
But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.
“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”
“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 
And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-
“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-
“Found it.”
And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-
“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”
“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 
“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 
“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 
Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”
You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 
And that answers his question. 
Messy and desperate. 
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 
Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white
Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 
Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 
“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.
“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 
--- 
“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”
The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 
A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”
“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”
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A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months ago
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tell me again that you hate me
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a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.
summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy
word count: 5153
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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.
You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 
Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 
It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 
Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 
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The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.
Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 
Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.
Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 
“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”
“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 
“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”
“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”
“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”
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The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.
Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 
When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 
But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 
However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 
It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 
“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”
His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 
“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 
“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 
“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”
“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 
That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 
“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 
“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”
As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 
When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 
“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.
Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother��s features. 
“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 
Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 
“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 
“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”
“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 
“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”
“Not particularly...”
As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 
“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 
Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 
“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”
“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”
“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 
“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 
Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”
“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”
Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 
Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 
He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 
“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”
As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”
But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.
“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.
It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 
A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  
Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?
It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 
“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 
He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 
“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”
Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 
Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 
“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.
When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 
One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 
Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 
You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 
“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 
A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”
“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 
“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”
Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 
“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 
“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 
“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 
When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 
Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.
“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 
Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  
A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 
“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”
A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 
As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 
“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.
Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 
“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”
You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.
“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”
“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 
It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 
“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 
Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 
Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 
You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.
As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 
“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”
“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”
You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 
Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”
“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”
“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 
“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”
“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 
“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 
“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 
“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”
“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 
“Say that you’re my little slut.”
“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”
Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 
One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.
“I hate you.”
“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.
“I hate you.”
“Keep going, princess.” 
And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 
Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 
When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.
“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 
And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 
Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”
You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 
“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 
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“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”
“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”
Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…
When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.
“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”
“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 
Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 
Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.
Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 
You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 
“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”
Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 
“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 
“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”
“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”
Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 
“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 
You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 
“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 
“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”
Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 
“You do look hot in normal clothes.”
“I don’t think any of this is normal…”
“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 
“Rafe…” you breathed. 
His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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samantitaswrld · 7 months ago
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deadpool!
….as your boyfriend.
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description: deadpool as your boyfriend!
pairing: deadpool x you!
contains: 18+, mentions of sex!
|an: just saw deadpool & wolverine.. couldn’t help myself.
- awful with emotions but always finds a way to make up for things whether through humor or sex.
- speaking of humor you’re never not laughing with him, or bickering, or fucking
- you’re the only person he can actually feel vulnerable and comfortable with, he cherishes that and he loves you so much for that.
- you’re his person, he would genuinely kill for you if it meant he would lose someone so important in his life.
- if someone makes you sad, mad or uncomfortable ooo…not his babygirl.
- he usually doesn’t keep people or friends in his loop often, they could find him annoying or over the top but not you.
- you love absolutely everything about him, his outlandish humor, his extroverted personality, his big ol’ mouth. you think it’s so hot.
- so hot when he’s mean to you so hot when he’s soft with you
- you literally bicker like two teenage girls all the time and he always somehow clocks your tea it’s ridiculous but you also find it impressive that he always has something to say that you cannot come back from😭
- god you need to pray that no man ever even has the thought of coming on to you… he’ll experience some banter with your boyfriend before it’s lights out.
- not only are you his but he’s yours! he’s super loyal and if he can’t get someone to back off , you sure will!
- you’re always having fun with him date nights are some of the best times of your life, he always finds a way to entertain you no matter what you’re doing.
- always gotta hand somewhere, your ass, a singular cheek, a titty, somewhere. how could you expect him not to! you’re all his.
- you literally have him wrapped around your finger, he’d do absolutely anything for you.
- also always bullying you he is so straightforward😭
“hon that has got to be the ugliest shirt i’ve ever seen on you”
“wade-“
“i know you got better in that closet that i snoop through and try on all your clothes when you aren’t home now go!”
- he’s so tall so if you’re short oh wow…you’re never catching a break
“soooo how’s the weather down there.” wade said, placing his elbow on the crown of your head.
“prick…”
“yeah that’s enough of that dirty mouth!” your boyfriend had announced before bending down and wrapping an arm around your behind, throwing you over his shoulder and positioning his palm on your ass.
“god, wade put me down!” you’d laughed playfully hitting his back.
“don’t make me have to spank you!” he said, lighting pinching your ass.
- do not get an animal bc it will quickly become his center of attention and he will defend it over you.
“wade, we’re having my mom over please put it in the room”
“ugh…she’s so mean isn’t she sugar?” he’d said stroking your pet, followed by a “yes she is yes she is!” as the animal licked his face.
sigh.
- good lord we got a cuddle monster on our hands!
- absolutely adores any type of affection and practically begs you for it 24/7. he loves being little spoon specifically. also loves it when u scratch or message his back, bc that also gets him going..
- speaking of, you got this guy rock solid 24/7
“hungry for seconds?” he joked, hugging you from behind and pressing his hardened cock against your ass.
“we literally jus-“ you’d started just to be interrupted mid sentence.
“so! cmon baby throw a dog a bone.” he muttered, hand already gripping your inner thigh.
you’d sighed, god you can’t resist him.
- it doesn’t matter what you’re doing he finds anything you do hot i stg
- a M-U-N-C-H! for life, literally came in his pants from eating you out once! he loves making you feel good.
- a goofball during sex he cannot do shit seriously😭 he be talking you and your pussy thru it!
- again, if you’re petite god help you bc he is large.
- babe, you better match his freak because yall doing anything.
- trying a new thing every night multiple times bc that sex is never vanilla and that dick is never tired! at some point he’s just making positions up😭
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adieutristana · 15 days ago
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nsfw headcanons; arcane women x fem!reader
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still new to writing this kinda stuff yall dont kill me. anyways, here's some general headcanons. again, i'm open for nsfw requests, just please read through the new section in my rules post!
summary; general nsfw headcanons with arcane women and their girlfriend.
characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest
tags; nsfw, fluff, everything is done consensually, some aftercare (full aftercare headcanons here), fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on use, strap-on referred to as dick, degradation, rough sex, nipple play, light bdsm (sevika, lest), anal (sevika, lest), public (mel), jinx being a brat, vibrator use (jinx, caitlyn) gun play (jinx), period sex mention (jinx), usage of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore,’ sloppy shit, p in v (lest), dacryphilia (jinx, caitlyn), wax play (lest), breeding kink (vi), orgasm denial (mel, caitlyn), thigh riding (sevika, caitlyn), blowjob (lest), shimmer (jinx, lest)
men and minors dni.
jinx;
✧.* the way i interpreted it at least, what jinx received after the fight on the bridge was a sort of shimmer infusion. she's got that stuff running in her veins, and jinx is basically 50% shimmer at this point.
✧.* i bring this up because the amount of shimmer in jinx's system gives her certain.. perks. such as her stamina being that of twenty women combined, how fast and hard she can go. she'd have fun increasing the speed, fucking you harder and harder while you're a writhing mess beneath her and can only think of the pleasure she's giving you.
✧.* even while receiving, jinx can go all night if she wanted to. she won't, because you're not as energetic as she is and she needs to let you rest (as much as she wishes you could go all night). the girl would be so damn overstimulated, but still, she'll demand that you make her cum again, and again, and again. she can keep going; she can take it.
✧.* a tit girl. she doesn’t care how big or small your boobs are, as long as she gets them in her hands and mouth! it’s probably a result of how damn sensitive her own are- jinx will be whimpering mess just from you pinching her nipples a few times.
✧.* she’s a switch, and what position she takes at what given time is just dependent on her mood. jinx is always unpredictable, always keeping you on your toes. she isn’t much different in bed.
✧.* so fucking noisy, and the dirty talk is downright filthy. it's bad enough that at times, you worry your girlfriend might lose her voice. jinx is very unfiltered in general, so you'd expect no less from her in the bedroom. she sees no point in holding back. you're making her feel good, why should she hide that?
✧.* "oh, fuck! ngh, just like that, you're fucking my pussy soooo good," she'd babble, taking every inch of your strap with impressive resolve. her lips are parted, swollen and red from just how hard she'd kissed you. obscene squelching noises filling the room while you pound into her, her legs pressed to either side of her body. "y'hear it? do you? that's me, fuckin' dripping for you. need your dick, ineeditineediti need it-"
✧.* SIZE QUEEN. jinx is a petite girl, shorter and thinner than most. yet she'd insist on you fucking her and stretching her with dildos that looked monstrous next to her. she's a whiny, squealing mess as you ease each inch into her aching pussy, but she always takes it so well. there's nothing quite like the feeling of being pried open to jinx.
✧.* along with that, she's pretty flexible so you can get creative with positions. she'll let you press your knees to either side of her body, not wincing once or growing tired.
✧.* jinx does enjoy a variety of positions- doggystyle, reverse cowgirl, the like, her favorite positions are any where she can see your face. not only does it give jinx a rush to see your flushed, fucked-out expressions, but it also gives her that sense of connection to be able to look at you while you pleasure each other. she's the type to hold eye contact with you the entire time she eats you out, and to bore her gaze into yours in missionary.
✧.* she'd be riding you, arms wrapped around your chest as you piston the strap into her. she's whimpering and squealing louder and louder with each thrust, but her eyes never would leave yours. you're fucking her at an unforgiving pace, plastic tip kissing her cervix, but she still feels so at ease and cared for.
✧.* i feel like jinx would say 'i love you' at least once every time.
✧.* a munch. jinx loves it when you sit on her face, and she's the type to be downright offended if you don't put your full body weight on her. she'd tug you down by your hips before plunging her tongue deep into you without warning, earning sharp cries from you. every time she hears those noises, her ego grows bigger, and damn. you'd allow her that.
✧.* also loves to eat you out from under her workbench. seeing you in her chair, under her desk, in her space, so willingly submissive to her- it's thrilling to her and she can't quite explain it.
✧.* "fuck yes, toots," she'd grumble, pulling back from your wet heat for just a split seconds. "you taste so damn good. so fuckin' sweet and needy f'me."
✧.* a damn brat when she wants to be. she loves to rile you up, it's like a game to jinx. not so amusing for you when you're trying to fill out paperwork and jinx is groaning, taking your pen from your hand and holding it out of your reach while she tells you to just fuck her already.
✧.* "come on! that stuff is so boring, and here i am, soaked for you," she'd pout, her knees parting more beside you on the couch. "you always have to be so responsible, and it's irritating. you could be putting those hands to better use, but noooo."
✧.* or something along the lines of, “i can’t feel anything! are you sure you’re fucking me? come on, do something!”
✧.* not so mouthy when your face is buried in her cunt, that's for sure.
✧.* very into marking. placing her claim on you. almost every time, without fail, you’ve got a new array of hickeys splayed across your neck, chest, hips, and inner thighs. also very into writing on you, with permanent marker. she’d write ‘JINX’ right above your pubic bone, draw little hearts around your nipples, draw an arrow on your inner thigh pointing to your cunt that reads ‘JINX WAZ HERE!’
✧.* a crier, especially when you overstimulate her and when she orgasms. she gets embarrassed every time and tries to explain it away, but it’s just her body’s way of processing all of those sensations. poor girl can’t hold it in :(
✧.* being with jinx, it's gonna be either her tongue, a strap, or a vibrator pleasuring you, unless you can convince jinx to cut her nails. not likely, since she takes pride in their length. sorry :(
✧.* jinx isn’t afraid to get messy. she’ll be rubbing her sticky cunt against yours, having already squirted twice- her lips swollen from your kisses, thighs and lower stomach covered in sweat and cum. but she just can’t stop grinding against you, it feels so damn right.
✧.* along with that, jinx is definitely into period sex. the first time was a whirlwind, with jinx insisting she doesn’t mind and eating you out anyways. if anything, you being on your period makes jinx want to please you more so that you forget about those pesky cramps.
✧.* squirter, and her juices are tinged pink from the shimmer running through her body.
✧.* oh, you already know the prosthetic finger vibrates. she wouldn’t tell you the first time she used it, just say something like, “i’ve got somethin’ special for ya toots! what is it? well, i can’t say just yet! but you’ll love it. i know you will.”
✧.* the way you gasp as soon as you feel the vibrations against your clit and buck your hips into the metal gives jinx all that she needs.
✧.* definitely into gun play as well. seeing your pussy stretch to accommodate the barrel of her gun, the way your eyes widen and you gasp when her finger brushes over the trigger… oh, it’s art. jinx could fully get addicted to it.
vi;
✧.* A MUNCH.
✧.* it probably sounds far-fetched, but vi could cum just from eating you out. from tasting your sweet juices, the scent of your heat, the way your face contorts in pleasure, the trembling of your thighs in her hands, the obscene noises that spill from your lips, how it feels when you cum in her mouth- vi gets lost in it every single time.
✧.* it gets to a point some nights where you’ll almost have to pry vi’s face from between your legs.
✧.* likes to switch and doesn’t have a preference when it comes to top or bottom. i take her as the type who would do both during most sessions to balance things out, she gets some and you get some!
✧.* dirty talk is crazy when she’s domming, but when vi is subbing she can barely string together a coherent thought, especially not a full sentence. she tries to talk to you, tries to let you know how good you’re feeling, but it comes out more as a choppy string of moans and ‘please’s.
✧.* “oh, that feels so- haaaah, please, mm-”
✧.* vi is strong, stronger than most. meaning she can pick you up, fuck you while holding you up against a wall, or she could use that strength to slam your wrists into the mattress above your head while her free hand works at your heat. the possibilities are endless!
✧.* not necessarily loud, but she doesn’t hold back when it comes to noises either. always some form of grunting, groaning, heaving. or whimpering, when she’s on bottom.
✧.* her tits are so sensitive. she’ll try to act like it’s nothing when your hands brush over her hardened nipples, but oh gods when your lips form a seal over one and you start to swirl your tongue around it, vi loses her mind. she’s threading calloused fingers into your hair, trying to push you impossibly closer to her.
✧.* loves giving strap- she likes to receive too, but she’s more partial to giving when it comes to strap-on usage. it just gives her a rush, being on top of you, making you take her. it’s a bit of a power trip for vi.
✧.* “yeah, fucking take my cock- ngh… such a good girl for me, such a good slut.” she’s a panting mess, pounding into you from behind. your asscheeks are sore from the swats she’s given them, and you can feel vi filling you to the brim with every thrust. yet it’s intoxicating.
✧.* vi is just so smitten with you, she’ll do almost anything if you ask nicely. any position, any toys, any kink you want to try out. she’s a lover girl at heart, and aims to please above all else. all you have to do is say the word.
✧.* due to her sweet nature, vi would be so attentive during rougher sex with you. even as she’s tossing you around, coaxing what must be your fourth or fifth orgasm out of you, calling you pathetic and needy, she’d be looking out for you. one second she’s degrading you, the next she’s asking if you’re okay and if you need a break. additionally, she does internally wince when she talks down to you, though she tries to hide it. she knows you know she doesn’t actually think of you like that, but she does hold back because she can’t bear the thought of going too far with it.
✧.*despite liking to be rough from time to time, especially if she knows that you like it and you ask for it, vi also does enjoy slow, sweet lovemaking to keep things balanced. she likes being able to pleasure you, to worship you, show you exactly how much you mean to her through her touch.
✧.* “shh, baby,” she’d whisper, kissing down the valley between your breasts, towards your sternum and stomach. “i’ll make you feel good. so good. just lay your pretty self back and take it. can you do that for me, love?”
✧.* her favorite positions are probably doggystyle and 69. doggystyle gives her room to manipulate your body, a prime angle to pound into you, room to pull your hair and force you to look back at her while you’re coming undone on her dick. 69 is ideal for eating you out, but you both get off, so it’s even better. she’d be trying to stifle moans while her tongue is lapping at your clit, sending vibrations through your core when she can’t hold back anymore.
✧.* one orgasm is never enough when it comes to vi. she wants to give you more, and more, and more. her hand would be soaked and her fingers beginning to prune from just how much you’ve already given her, but she still swears you can give her one more (those words are almost always a lie).
✧.* creamer, and there’s SO much of it. the first time you made her cum you didn’t say anything, but you questioned to yourself whether this is a normal amount. but you quickly grew to love it- seeing vi make such a mess, shaking and whining.
✧.* can somebody say BREEDING KINK. no, it’s not scientifically possible for a woman to get another woman pregnant. but vi will be damned if she doesn’t try.
✧.* pistoning her strap into you while she has you folded into a mating press, grunting and panting with her hands on either side of your head. “gonna fill you up just right,” she’d say, breathless. “please, vi-” “shh. i’ll give it to you, you’ll be such a pretty mama, fuck- take it. take it all.”
✧.* while she enjoys getting her tits played with, i definitely see vi as more of an ass girl when it comes to you. she loves eating you out from behind, slapping your ass during sex, even slapping your ass in public when you’re just trying to pay the poor street vendor. she just can’t get enough of the feeling of plush skin in her hands. the shape, the sensation.
✧.* a head pusher. practically shoves your mouth into her pussy while she’s bucking into your face, groaning and panting while your tongue laps up everything she’ll give you. the proximity does something for her, but she also just… can’t help it. it’s reflex at this point. you hit just the right spot, and her strong hand is flying to the back of your head to push you even further.
✧.* RIDE HER ABS. that’s all i’ll say.
mel;
✧.* such a devoted and sweet lover. also a switch, and she truly doesn’t mind what position she takes at what moment. usually mel lets you decide, she trusts you and the pace you set.
✧.* she’s devoted to your pleasure, but she also won’t deny herself any; not by a long shot.
✧.* however, there are times when she’s had a frustrating day at work. the councilors wouldn’t listen to her, her ideas weren’t getting anywhere, she felt a mental block growing stronger with each passing second. every minute she was in that room was like torture, and all she wanted was to get home.
✧.* so the second she does, she’s asking you to lay down so she can lower her pussy onto your face and lose herself.
✧.* “please, love, make me forget- oh, shit! aah!”
✧.* mel doesn’t really curse much, so a good signifier that she’s feeling good is when you hear her swearing. she’s always so poised, so refined in the way she speaks. careful to converse in a manner becoming of a councilor, of a medarda. so when she’s making those pretty sounds, laid back with three fingers deep inside of her and you hear her swear, you know you’ve got her.
✧.* “right there, hah, mm…” she’d moan, grabbing at one of her breasts to anchor herself. “that feels so- fuck! oh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
✧.* she’s not necessarily loud either, just the right volume to assure you that she’s feeling good.
✧.* mel’s stamina is pretty average. she knows how to pace herself, so it’s really up to you and how long you want to go for.
✧.* she prefers lovemaking and being doted on in the bedroom rather than rough sex and being denied. that’s not to say she’s opposed to trying out something more hardcore, but generally, she prefers to feel cared for in the moment. touch her, love her, worship her.
✧.* however, when she’s topping, she could deny you for hours. it’s something to do with the power she’s holding over you.
✧.* “mpph, please, just let me come, aaah.. i’ll be so good, mel.” you’d whimper, writhing beneath her touch. “shh. you’ve been so good already, but you can hold out a bit longer, can’t you? that’s my strong girl.”
✧.* partial to body worship. take your time with her, slowly removing her clothing to tell her every little thing you love about her body. her soft skin. the swells of her breasts, her lean muscle and smooth thighs. she’ll be gasping, petting your hair and praising you, letting you know what feels right. every touch from you feels like a promise, and you’ll do damn right to keep it.
✧.* TRIBBING. she especially loves being on top when it comes to scissoring, so that she can set the pace and get both of you off just right. it checks off all of mel’s boxes- proximity, close connection, being able to see your pretty face, and the fact that you both get pleasure from it.
✧.* “oh, gods, love,” she’d grunt, grinding her wet cunt into yours. strings of arousal connecting the two of you, rutting into each other. “don’t stop, unngh- that’s so good, so fucking good.. faster. faster.”
✧.* although she’s refined and poised, mel is not above fucking you in public. you’d be at a gala together, champagne glass in hand and trying to converse with others; some of the most important figures and families in piltover. yet all you can focus on is mel, the way the white dress she chose hugs the curves of her hips just right, and the slit that runs up the side. you try to be subtle, but mel is observant. she notices. and this is one of the few times where she’s a bit more rough.
✧.* “just couldn’t wait?” she’d ask, her fingers pounding into you in an empty room just outside of the crowded hall. “almost struck a deal, a good one, before you started undressing me with your eyes. it’s distracting, love.” “i’m sorry, baby,” you’d whimper, so fucking close to your peak. “sorry isn’t going to cut it. but you’re so pretty… so wet, too. i’ll be merciful.”
✧.* mel likes to set the mood. candles, maybe some soft music crackling over a stereo as well. as i keep saying, she’s a romantic! she wants you to see the effort she’s putting in for you, to know just how much she cares. all of this is worth it to her, you’re worth it.
✧.* just one is rarely enough for mel. if you’re more the one-and-done type, she won’t try to coax more orgasms out of you- but for her, she can go several rounds. back to back to back, coming undone on your fingers and mouth and strap and loving every second.
✧.* always holding onto you somehow. her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she rides you, one arm around your waist to steady you while she fingers you against a wall, the like. however, mel’s favorite is holding your hand, interlacing your fingers together. it just feels so intimate, so loving. it’s also grounding in a way, she can squeeze your hands as the sensations grow stronger, or as a silent support while you teeter over the edge of climax.
✧.* aside from times like i mentioned earlier, mel isn’t really a fan of quickies. there are some exceptions, but she prefers to take it slow within the confines of a place she knows is safe. she wants to take her time to truly appreciate you, and she can’t do that if she’s got a time constraint.
✧.* says she loves you every time, probably multiple times. the intimacy of it all overpowers her. some people may think that saying ‘i love you’ over and over makes it lose meaning, but on the contrary, mel means it more each time she says it.
✧.* “oh, oh, gods… mm, i love you, right there…”
sevika;
✧.* have fun trying to move at all after sleeping with sevika.
✧.* she’s a top-leaning switch. she won’t deny pleasure herself, but she won’t ask for it either. she’s more than happy to just fuck you again and again, her pleasure being derived from the sight of your head thrown back in ecstasy and the sound of your pleasured screams.
✧.* sevika loves just about anything, but she’s partial to the strap. it gives her a rush of power, being able to split you open and fuck you so deep, so right. definitely gets one of the biggest dildos she can find to insert into the strap, just so she can make you lay there and take it.
✧.* rough, experienced, and doesn’t hold back when it comes to degradation. she’d pull her cock almost fully out of you, just leaving the tip- before slamming back in, drawing a borderline pornographic moan from your lips. “fuck, doll, you sound filthy. can’t even talk right now, can you? fuckin’ slut, losing her mind already.” she’d drink in all of your noises, your labored breathing and the way your eyes roll to the back of your head. “gods. i’ve never been with someone this fuckin’ desperate. i almost pity you.”
✧.* can and will manhandle you. she’ll be pushing your chest further into the mattress while fucking you from behind, yanking your hips into hers as she thrusts into you. smacking your ass so hard the sound nearly echoes through the room. she’ll flip you on your back, nearly throwing you down on the bed just to continue her relentless rhythm. she wants to absolutely ruin you. so let her.
✧.* she wants to leave you sore and tired for the next day, so that every time you try to even take a step you’re reminded of exactly what, or who put you into this position.
✧.* sevika’s stamina is admirable. exhaustion weighs heavy on her during the day, her work cut out for her. running around handling zaun, tying up loose ends silco left, and making sure jinx doesn’t get herself into too much trouble wears her out quickly. but somehow she still has so much energy when it comes to fucking you. she could go all night if you allowed her, without so much as yawning.
✧.* she’ll grab your chin to force you to look at her, holding direct eye contact while she fucks you. she wants to see every expression of yours, she wants you to see her face while you cum.
✧.* “who’s makin’ this pussy feel good?” she’d demand, grunting as she grabs a fistful of your hair. you’d yelp at the sensation, your voice breathy and bordering on whiny. “aahh! you! you, mmph- sevika, you’re making it feel so good…”
✧.* also lowkey (highkey) really into anal… being able to please your tight asshole and feel you clench around her fingers as she keeps rutting into your cunt. yeah
✧.* it’s not often that she does, but sevika likes to have you tied up. your wrists tied to the headboard of her bed, the wood creaking while she rocks into you and holds your thighs apart. it’s picturesque almost, you look so damn perfect and pliant. and all for her.
✧.* the ropes are rough and frayed, something similar to what would be used on a ship. it’s not much, and they look like they’ve been used before- they’ll definitely leave marks on your wrists once you’re done. not to worry, sevika already has ointments for once you’re done, and she makes sure to space things like this out. she loves the sight of you bound for her, but not enough to over exert your poor skin.
✧.* she loves hearing those gorgeous sounds you make for her, but sevika does have neighbors and she’s not above shoving your discarded shirt or panties into your mouth if she feels that you’re being too loud. “hush. gonna wake the whole neighborhood at this point, doll. or is that what you want?”
✧.* when she does allow you to top, she’s pretty quiet. a stark contrast to how breathy and gruff she is while pleasing you, but she’ll still make noises! just at a low volume. yet her words do still hold some of that domineering edge.
✧.* your tongue would be delicately splitting her wet folds, teasingly licking up her slit before it brushes right over her clit. a shiver runs up her spine and she groans, a breathy noise that only serves to motivate you more.
✧.* “shit, baby, like that…” she’d breathe out, her chest beginning to heave up and down. “faster, baby. more. like you mean it.”
✧.* creamer, but she’ll squirt if you coax enough orgasms out of her. when you first found this out, she was on the edge of her fifth orgasm, panting and grunting before her walls clenched around your tongue. you then felt a wet warmth splash onto your face, and your gaze flickered. something downright predatory awoke in you, making you desperate to see that again and again.
✧.* “come on, sevi, just gimme one more, mm… that was so fucking hot,” you’d murmur, bringing your face close to her glistening cunt yet again. “another? i think- aah, i’ll break,” sevika breathes out. “good.”
✧.* RIDE HER THIGH. she didn’t even know she was into it at first. you’d be kissing her, panting into her mouth as you strip her of her shirt- before pulling away. “i wanna try something,” you’d say, before lowering yourself onto one of her bulky thighs. beginning to rock your hips, your clothed clit bumping against her thigh while a sharp gasp is pulled from you.
✧.* sevika’s eyes are opened to a whole new realm of possibilities. her hands are flying to your waist to help guide you along on her thigh, feeling your arousal leak through the cotton of your panties. “fuck, dove, you really are a whore.” she says, a low chuckle following. “i wouldn’t have thought of this, but you’re just too damn eager… look at you, soaking me. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”
✧.* before you know it, sevika is asking you to ride her thigh regularly!
✧.* sevika’s neck is her weak spot. kiss up the expanse of it, suck dark marks into her pulse point, and she’s a damn mess. she’s tilting her head back so you have easier access, melting from you just touching her neck. it’s kind of adorable, honestly.
✧.* switches up the second you’re done- is so sweet and loving during aftercare. making sure that you’re okay and taken care of before she even thinks of doing anything for herself, making sure she didn’t go too far and you’re not too wrecked.
caitlyn;
✧.* switch with a slight preference for topping. she’s been in control most of her life, usually having the upper hand and hardly ever not getting what she wants. she doesn’t expect much less in the bedroom- that, and she loves seeing you fall apart beneath her, knowing that she’s the one responsible.
✧.* caitlyn has long and strong fingers, perfect for reaching all the spots that you’ve never been able to reach yourself. the second her middle finger brushes against that spongy spot that makes your vision blank, her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth is open in a ‘ah, gotcha!’ expression.
✧.* “yeah, darling? you like that? should i keep going, hm?” you’d nod frantically, panting and flushed beneath her. “then keep being good for me. you can do that, can’t you?”
✧.* BRAT TAMER. you might be able to get away with being mouthy with others, but never with cait. she’s a patient woman, but you learn after a while of being with her how to push her buttons just right. wearing that very patience thin with every word and sway of your hips. you’re giggling, until caitlyn is pushing you against a wall and clawing at your clothing, ordering you to spread your legs.
✧.* “i thought this was what you wanted? what you were begging for, not even a minute ago?” she’d grunt, slamming her purple strap into you at an alarming pace. ragged gasps and moans are pulled from your parted lips, and hot tears begin to stream down both of your cheeks. caitlyn would let out a low chuckle, tutting. “what, you’re crying now? come on, it’s not that bad. just a little lesson for you.” she’d coo.
✧.* there’s also been several times when you haven’t been able to behave yourself in her workplace, and she’d whisk you to her office to bend you over the hard wood of her desk, fucking you right then and there.
✧.* part of caitlyn delights at the sight of your tears. it’s exhilarating, in a way. seeing you so desperate, so wanton, knowing it was her who took you apart so expertly. seeing you so bared and vulnerable for her is a moment she wishes she could frame every time.
✧.* caitlyn can be such a temptress. she’s beautiful, anyone can see that- and she uses that beauty to her advantage. you’d come home from a long day of working harder than you ought, to be greeted by your girlfriend in white lace lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination. she knows you can’t resist, and she’s internally celebrating the moment you pounce on her.
✧.* “how was work, love?” she’d ask, voice low and smooth. “you look like you’re starving. maybe i can do something about that?” she’d muse, fingers teasing under one of her thigh garters.
✧.* when subbing, caitlyn is loud. she’s not screaming out in pleasure, but she doesn’t hold back any noises. she wants you to know how good you’re making her feel, to hear it on her lips and in her choppy words.
✧.* likes clitoral stimulation best, i think. don’t get me wrong, she thoroughly enjoys the feeling of penetration- but something about having her pretty clit played with until she’s an aching mess is just better.
✧.* also likes to be praised when she’s on bottom. tell her how beautiful she is, tell her that you’re taking her just right and she sounds so pretty right now. not only does it provide an ego boost, but it makes caitlyn feel so loved.
✧.* she’s a bit embarrassed to admit it, but she likes being on the receiving end of orgasm denial. so fucking close, her body strung thin like a bowstring. each nerve ending nearly on fire. but she can’t cum, not until you give her the green light, and it drives her insane.
✧.* “please, i’m losing my mind,” she’d cry out. “i need- mmf- i need to cum, pleasedarlingillbesogood,”
✧.* not opposed to quickies, but doesn’t opt for them. however, there are occasions where she’ll steal you away just before you have to leave for work, her fingers working as quickly as she possibly can to get you off- giving you something to think about the rest of the day.
✧.* something about your hips draws caitlyn in. maybe it’s the plush skin against them, the way they’re perfect for her nails to dig into, the feeling she gets when they rut against her, the rush she gets from gripping them to guide you as you grind against her thigh, or the way they sway when you walk. she can’t quite pinpoint it, but she also doesn’t care to.
✧.* “fuck, darling, keep moving,” she’d breathe out, gripping the tops of your hips as your wetness spreads over her thigh- folds glistening, head tilted back as lewd moans fill the room. “you look beautiful like this. so damn perfect, like you’re made for my viewing…”
✧.* she enjoys pet names a lot, but i think one of caitlyn’s weaknesses would be just addressing her by her name. especially if you usually call her by pet names outside of the bedroom. it feels so intimate, so personal.
✧.* “such a good girl for me, caitlyn,” you’d whisper, holding a bullet vibrator to her wet clit. “look at this pussy, so desperate for me. i can’t get enough.”
✧.* her favorite places to have sex are her bed and her desk. simple, but they work- her bed is a sanctuary, and it’s comfortable. optimal. her work desk serves many purposes, but her favorite is pleasuring each other.
✧.* caitlyn’s eyes are hypnotic, her gaze piercing. she’s big on eye contact during sex, demanding that you look at her the entire time. even as you’re fighting to not let your eyes snap shut or roll to the back of your head, the commanding tone in her voice keeps you grounded. it’s an ego boost, but it’s also a way of connecting to you.
✧.* gets rough when she’s especially stressed, which is often. she’s an enforcer and one of piltover’s most powerful figures; caitlyn is basically a walking manifestation of stress. slapping your tits, grabbing your chin, degrading you, shoving her fingers into your mouth and down your throat to shut you up.
✧.* that’s not to say that she doesn’t enjoy gentle love making from time to time- she absolutely does. she loves those nights where you take your time with her, truly conceptualize your affections for her. just how much you love her. she just gets carried away in the moment more than she’d like to admit.
lest;
✧.* switch with a preference for subbing. she will dom you if you ask her to, but most of the time, lest likes to lay back and bask in the feeling of you touching her. the scent of incense thick in the air, hair freed from her scarf and fanned around her as she lets out soft moans.
✧.* her voice is so smooth, so calming. the kind of voice you could fall asleep to. lest isn’t necessarily loud during sex, but she gets pretty vocal. and her noises, her words sound almost heaven sent.
✧.* “oh, keep doing- aahh!- that, darling…” she’d breathe out, her tone soft and buttery with desperation. “i need it, i’m so close-”
✧.* lest is definitely experienced, so she knows well and good what gets her going. she’ll tell you as well, guiding your hands to exactly where she needs them and describing in vulgar detail what she wants you to do to her.
✧.* “play with my tits with one hand, stroke me with the other,” she’d breathe out, placing your hands over both her perky breast and twitching cock. “pinch my nipple, hard, run your thumb over the tip- oh, fuuuuck…”
✧.* the tip of her dick is easily the most sensitive part of her body. it’s so sensitive, it’s almost comical- but lest can’t help it. you know how to pleasure her exactly the way she needs. as soon as you take it into your mouth, teasing your tongue over the head before taking her full length, she’s already fighting the urge to buck into your mouth. it draws sharp gasps from her throat, her fingers gripping at the bedsheets.
✧.* but her tits aren’t meant to be neglected, either. plump and soft, sitting so pretty on her. her nipples are definitely pierced, usually adorning gold bars with dangling chains. play with them, suck on them, place clamps on them. she’ll eat all of it up, praising you all the while.
✧.* definitely enjoys being tied up during the act, and she’d likely want to try shibari at some point. she has the nice ropes: purple woven silk, soft against her wrists and ankles. the feeling of being bared open before you, completely powerless and at your mercy can’t compare to anything else.
✧.* i think lest is really into wax play, but can’t participate as much as she’d like to because wax is a pain in the ass to get out of fur. she’ll gasp at the feeling of hot, sticky wax on her tits and stomach, a shiver running through her body involuntarily. you like to indulge her from time to time, relishing in her every reaction. again, it just can’t be as often as you’d both like because of the aftermath :(
✧.* lest can’t exactly finger you since she uh… has claws. but she’s so skillful with her mouth, the thought of what you might be missing doesn’t even cross your mind. she’d take your clit between her lips, teasing over the bud with her tongue before sucking. brushing her silky hair over her shoulder and angling her jaw so she has even more access to you, drinking in every sound you make.
✧.* “you taste amazing, darling,” she’d murmur. “stay still, mm.. you want to cum, don’t you?”
✧.* lest could grow addicted to just eating you out. the feeling of your release on her tongue is a high she never wants to come down from. she’ll draw orgasm after orgasm after orgasm from you on just her tongue.
✧.* praise her!! tell lest how good she’s doing, how beautiful she looks between your thighs and how lucky you are to have her. it only makes her more eager to please you.
✧.* “gods, you’re beautiful,” you’d whisper, “that feels amazing, you’re amazing, you’re perfect-” before feeling her tongue slip from your clit to your wet hole, prying you open.
✧.* LOVES to be pegged. she’s also partial to cowgirl, but lests’s absolute favorite is doggystyle. she craves the sensation of you slamming into her hole, gripping her plump asscheek with one hand and yanking on her tail with the other. she’d let out a sharp yowl, her chest almost collapsing into the mattress at the feeling. but it feels so fucking good, even though it’s sending pain up her spine.
✧.* “oh, yes, yesyesyes,” she’d babble, so bravely taking every inch of your strap. “don’t stop, go harder- fuck, ow!” she gasps, her soft tail in your grasp as you pull. “sorry,” you’d wince, slightly loosening your grip. “no. keep holding it, it- aahh! feels damn good.”
✧.* she cums pretty quickly when you strap her down. she’s a bit embarrassed about it, but she just can’t help it. your strap rubs against her g-spot so perfectly, your rhythm is exactly what she needs and you fill her up just right.
✧.* alternatively, lest loves when you ride her. seeing your face while you’re on top of her, claws digging into your hips while she bounces you up and down on her length… oh, it’s gold. and the sight of your tits bouncing is always a welcome bonus.
✧.* sometimes lest will have her pipe with her while you ride her, in which case she’ll allow you to shotgun hits. your breaths mingling with one another and lips almost touching as magenta smoke is passed between the two of you. it only serves to further heighten your senses, bringing you even greater pleasure.
✧.* “you’re divine,” she’d breathe out, hips rocking into you with fervor. “take it. take everything, just like i know you can. you’re a damn work of art.”
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yanderedrabbles · 14 days ago
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Yandere Days of the Week
Monday is your grouchy and uptight coworker. He's a stickler for the rules and not someone who confesses his feelings. He'll usually push his spectacles up his nose and frown at you whenever you try and do something new, no matter how simple.
"What did I say about filling out the spreadsheets by yourself? You've confused all the figures."
He'll push both you and your chair out of the way and settle himself at your desk like one messed up spreadsheet means the death of the whole company. If you ever try and thank him, he'll glare at you like you've insulted his whole bloodline.
"Tch. Just ask me next time."
If you pay attention, you might notice the blush that tinges his cheeks whenever you smile at him. You might notice the way he straightens his already perfect tie before coming over to harangue you about company dress code and your slightly-too-short skirts. (Why is he noticing your skirt length to begin with? Perv).
Luckily for him, you're usually too irritated or harassed to pay attention. His secret crush will be staying a secret for as long as he can manage.
Tuesday is your overly sweet neighbour. He introduced himself to you the second you moved in - offering you a tupperware of homecooked food because he knew exactly how overwhelming moving in could be. He's the guy you call when you need a shelf hung up or a stubborn jar opened. He'll raise his brows when you thank him, secretly pleased that you asked for his help.
"That's what neighbours are for, right?"
He doesn't mention that the previous tenants left him a spare key to your apartment. What if you get hurt one day while you're locked inside, with no one able to reach you in time? It's safer for you both if he keeps it a secret.
And if he occasionally let's himself into your apartment while you're at work, it's just to keep an eye on the place. It's what any good neighbour would do. So stop wondering what the white stains on your panties are, okay?
Wednesday is your unassuming classmate. They're the quiet kind, apt to fade into the background without meaning to.
At first, they were envious of you. Pretty, clever, friendly - you aren't the type people can easily ignore. They watch you whenever they can, desperate to somehow copy that elusive charm that makes you so special.
It doesn't work, obviously. When they try smiling like you it looks stiff and unnatural. When they copy your outfits they feel exposed, self conscious. When they try wearing the same perfume as you they break out in hives that last all week.
They can't be you. No one can.
But they aren't going to give up so easily. Maybe your luck doesn't come from clothes or hair or makeup. Maybe it's something deep inside of you, something that can be ripped out and kept for themselves.
They're going to learn what makes you so special, even if it means following you home with duct tape and chloroform.
Thursday is your favourite professor. He's the quietly confident type, the kind of man who doesn't have to shout to keep the lecture hall's attention. He's insightful and empathetic, his brown eyes always warm.
You trust him totally and completely. You don't notice when he starts resting his hand on your lower back whenever you stand next to him. You don't notice that your papers are always graded more harshly than your classmates. You don't realise he wants you, not even when he offers you private office hours despite his packed schedule.
You're a real cock tease, always looking at him with those doe eyes and pretty lips. He's a patient man - he'll have you eventually. It doesn't matter if it takes him two weeks or two years, he'll keep dropping your grades until you beg him for help.
You trust him. You really, really shouldn't.
Friday is the star athlete that everyone admires. Handsome, confident, clever. A man like that would usually invite envy, would get dirty looks thrown at his back and nasty surprises in his locker.
Not him though. Everyone loves Friday.
Well, everyone except for you. There's something about him that frightens you. Underneath his golden boy facade, there's something rotten and selfish.
You don't realise he's noticed your dislike until he corners you after class one day. He wraps one hand around your wrist as everyone files out of the lecture hall, too eager for the weekend to notice the slightly panicked look on your face.
"Listen, I hate to think I've done something to offend you. If I have, just tell me now and we can sort it out," he tells you, blue eyes cold and distant despite his pretty boy smile.
You tug at your wrist but his grip is unbreakable. He isn't hurting you, but his strength keeps you right where he wants you.
"We barely even know each other," you say, your eyes jumping to the door and the suddenly empty corridors. "I don't have any issue with you."
"That's a lie and we both know it. I don't want to push you, but I'm not letting you go until I know what I've done."
You finally meet his eyes. "You have it too easy in life. You get everything you want. I don't hate you. But I don't like you either."
His expression is a careful blank. "I'm not going to apologise for what I have or for what I've been given."
You tug at your wrist again and he finally let's you go.
"I don't expect you to," you mutter as you swing your bag over your shoulder and hurry out the door.
He watches you leave and inside him some selfish, possessive creature lifts its head and growls. You should have known - when a man with everything he could ever want is shown something he can't have, that just makes him want it all the more.
"Gonna make her mine," he says to the empty classroom. A promise or a threat, even he can't be sure.
Saturday is a party girl. The kind of bombshell who wears a tiny metallic bikini, a cowboy hat and absolutely nothing else to a rave.
She knows every kind of cocktail and every kind of fun time pill. She's shamelessly cocky and shamelessly outgoing. When you run into her at a concert, she'll get you all the way to the stage no matter how packed the crowds are. 
You'd think a girl like that would know all about boundaries and consent and you'd be right. The thing is, she ignores it just as easily as she ignores speed limits and DUI citations.
She'll kiss you when you're too drunk to say no. She'll give you pills that she knows you can't handle just to take you home. She'll ignore you when you try and push her away, weak and intoxicated and too woozy to form a full sentence.
And the worst part? She knows you won't report her. Girls can get drunk and touchy without it ever being called a crime.
She'll run her hands up your thighs and nip your neck and tell you she loves you. But she's always long gone by morning.
She's just a girl, your honour. And she'll use that excuse as many times as she needs to.
Sunday is your local barista. He's an artist on the side, the kind of creative soul who can't express himself without the help of charcoal and acrylic.
He's too stoic to ever work the cash register or take orders, but he somehow always ends up there when you're in line.
He usually sneaks an extra sweet treat into your order. And if he has the time, he'll usually leave a little doodle on your receipt.
He hasn't spoken to you much, but he can feel the red thread of fate tugging you closer everyday. You're soulmates, lovers meant to be, fated by heaven and all its angels.
It doesn't matter how long it takes, you'll be his eventually. He can read it in the stars.
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cumironi · 3 months ago
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SAY HIII! TO THE CAMERA s. geto
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☆ sum. stay quiet and keep him warm and hard, while he is playing video games, that’s the order. but it seems like too much hardness making you lose control of your body.
warning. non-sorcerer au, roommate geto, spank, cōck-drunk reader, petnames, dirty talk, overstim, praises, fem! reader, sugu gets annoyed when you can’t stay still, he’s annoyed because you make him lose, lol, tats-spank, háir-pulling, choking, bit exhibitionism.
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there’s something deeply comforting about having geto suguru as your roommate, a kind of unspoken reassurance that no matter how life twists and turns, you have someone in your corner. he’s not just kind; he’s the kind of person who’s genuinely considerate, remembering the little things that most people overlook. his gentle humor fills even the quietest moments with warmth, and his manners, always so natural, make you feel valued and understood. he’s the type of person who holds open doors, who waits for you when you linger on your way home, and who genuinely listens when you speak, as if your words are the only ones that matter.
living together, you’ve come to depend on him in a way that feels both new and familiar. in the late hours of the night, when silence settles over the apartment, there are moments of connection that you’ve never found with anyone else. he's seen you in every state — the vulnerable, raw moments when you’re barely holding it together, the giddy highs when you’re spilling over with excitement, and even the quiet days when all you need is to be near someone without saying a word. every joy and every sorrow, he’s there, a constant presence, filling the empty spaces of your life.
over time, though, there’s another unspoken need that starts to creep in. it’s there in the lingering glances, the way your touches linger just a moment too long, the awareness that builds between you both, each brushing touch leaving a faint trace of longing. you’ve found yourself drawn to him, in a way that goes beyond friendship, a desire simmering under the surface that you don’t dare voice. it’s been a while since you’ve had anyone to share that kind of closeness with, and every time he’s near, you can feel that need building, that craving that he seems to sense. and that ‘desire’ you crave so much, geto is there with an open arms and. . . open legs.
it was one of those days a mix of emotions swirling, a growing desire that had been building in the space between you two, bubbling to the surface. without overthinking it, you found yourself outside geto’s room, feeling a thrill as you opened the door without knocking. you were wearing only your skirt and a simple bra, skin tingling under the weight of anticipation.
geto was at his computer, focused on whatever he had been doing, but as soon as he heard the door creak open, he turned, spinning his chair around slowly. his gaze swept over you, eyes darkening with a spark of something unmistakable as he took you in. he let out a low whistle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the view. “well,” he drawled, his voice a touch rougher, “looks like someone’s feeling bold today.”
his own appearance was casual but undeniably alluring. he wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his toned chest bare, catching the soft light from the room. his long, dark hair fell loosely around his shoulders, framing his sharp features and giving him an almost untamed look that made your heart race faster. he watched you with a steady, appreciative gaze, that familiar, playful glint in his eyes turning to something deeper as his eyes traced over your form.
“you here for something, or just planning to drive me crazy?” he teased, his voice low, dripping with that lazy confidence he always wore so effortlessly. you felt your cheeks warm as you stepped into his room, but you didn’t waver, letting your gaze flicker over his chest, taking in the way his muscles shifted.
“i think you know exactly why i’m here,” you replied, keeping your voice light but letting the meaning behind your words settle between you. his smirk widened, and he straightened, reaching a hand out to you, his touch gentle but insistent as he pulled you closer.
his hand brushing your waist, guiding you to stand between his legs. his other hand came up to rest on your hip, fingers tracing small, lazy circles along your bare skin as he looked up at you.
god, the way he looked at you, with that sultry gaze sweeping over every inch of your body, made it nearly impossible to keep your composure. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare skin, each touch almost enough to send a shiver down your spine. the air between you two felt thick, electric, as if it held every unspoken thought, every lingering glance and desire that had built up over time. you could hear the faint hitch in his breath as you stepped closer, closing what little distance remained between you.
“is that right?” he murmured, voice low and rough, his tone thick with barely concealed amusement. “and what did i do to earn this little visit? not that i i’m complaining.” his fingers toyed with the edge of your skirt, tracing a slow line up your thigh that sent waves of warmth through you, each touch building a sweet tension that had you leaning in, craving more.
you couldn’t help but hum in response, letting your fingers glide over his bare shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solid strength beneath your touch. your other hand found its way to his hair, threading through the long, dark locks that framed his face so perfectly handsome, your fingers lingering as you gently pulled him closer.
“it’s not what you did,” you replied, your voice a low, teasing murmur, your lips close enough to brush against his ear. “it’s what you can do.” the words hung between you, dripping with anticipation, each syllable filled with a promise you knew he could hear.
geto chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. he leaned into your touch, his hand sliding up under your skirt, fingers splaying against your skin, and you could feel the heat of his palm, the barely suppressed tension in the way he touched you.
“oh?” he drawled, tilting his head so his face was dangerously close to your bellybutton. his lips grazed the shell of your skin, his breath hot against your skin. “and what exactly is it that you need me to do, pretty girl?”
before you could answer, his hands found your waist, gently but insistently pulling you down to sit on his lap. his arm wrapped securely around your bare waist, the other hand still warm and steady on your thigh. you felt yourself sink into him, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he held you close with that effortless confidence.
you leaned in, lips close to his ear as you whispered, voice teasing but edged with a hint of urgency. “you know exactly what i want, suguru,” you murmured, your fingers tracing along his collarbone, feeling his breath hitch as you spoke. “stop pretending to be stupid.”
a lazy smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze darkening with satisfaction as he tightened his hold on you, his hand slipping higher on your thigh, tracing lazy circles that sent a spark of anticipation through you. “oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with restrained desire, “i’d never be that stupid.”
geto shifted his hips, the heat of your bodies pressed together, his hand sliding slowly to the curve of your hip. there was a raw, unabashed hunger in his eyes, his gaze traveling over every inch of your exposed skin, taking in every subtle shudder, every quickening breath.
he pulled you even closer, desperate, and you could feel the tension building between the bitten of you as his other hand slid further up your skirt, his knuckles brushing over your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. his hand squeezed your thigh, fingers digging into your skin, an unspoken promise that sent a shiver of anticipation through you.
“if you want something,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper, “all you have to do is ask.” then he leaned in, his lips trailing a warm path from your collarbone up to your shoulder, and you could feel the low rumble of his voice against your sensitive skin. he nipped at your ear, his voice a dark, lustful murmur. “beg me for it, sweetheart.”
his lips traveled back down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, and a small gasp escaped your lips as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. his lips curled into a satisfied smile against your flesh, and his hand slid even higher up your thigh, the heat of his touch searing through you.
“beg me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “beg me to give it to you… and i’ll give you everything you need.”
and he lies.
you sit on his lap as he games, his cock buried deep inside you, you trying to stifle moans as occasionally he thrusts up into you, barely— either too distracted by his stupid games or he just being his usual self, a fucking jerk and a tease. “such a gooood girl, baby,” he growls lowly into your ear, muting his microphone. after all, he didn’t want his teammates hearing what a good little toy you were being, taking his cock like you were.
how had things turned out like this, you wonder? you were the one that was supposed to be teasing him, not the other way around. now you were the one, stifling whimpers and moans, and almost begging him to fuck you.
“s-suguru, p-please..” you whimper.
he ignores you completely as he goes back to his game, turning his microphone back on, saying, “son of a bitch, you fuckers can’t do anything right, can you?” you wiggle your hips on top of him, trying to get him to pay attention to you more, and his hand comes to rest briefly on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. a warning to knock it off. but you continue doing it. you had to take things back under your control, and what better way than by wiggling your hips, feeling him brush up against your sensitive spot, and letting out a quiet whimper.
he mutes his microphone again, letting out a warning growl, and lowly says, “y/n.. stop moving and be a good girl for me, hm?” his voice is dangerous, a sign to dare you to move even just a beat. but youuu, you tilt your head back, peering back into his face, and smile innocently. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about, suguruuu. . .”
your back was facing him as you sat on his lap, elbows resting hard on his computer desk. only you cute pink skirt wrap loosely around your waist with no underwear. your bare nipples pressed against the hard surface. geto’s fingers dig into your thigh, holding you still as he continues playing his game, ignoring your attempts at seduction. his breathing grows heavier, the scent of his arousal filling the air between you. he’s clearly struggling to focus on the match with you writhing atop him like this.
“y/n... i swear if you keep this up, i’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless,” he warns through gritted teeth, voice menacing. despite the threat, there’s an unmistakable note of desire lacing his words.
“now be a good girl and sit still,” he warned, his hand reaches up to grab your hip, pulling you down harder onto his throbbing erection and continue to cockwarming him while he’s playing games with his friends— stupid gojo satoru. a choked gasp escapes your lips as he grinds up into you, stretching you deliciously around his girth.
his grip tightens on your hip, guiding your movements to grind yourself against him even more. he doesn’t care who hears anymore, his mind consumed with thoughts of claiming you right here and now. his game character takes a hit from an enemy player the moment you do a harsh slammed on his cock, causing him to curse loudly into his mic.
“fuck! ’m distracted,” he admits before cutting himself off mid-sentence, realizing just how loud he’d been. he quickly mutes his mic once more, though he makes no move to stop grinding you against him. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, y/n? for me to lose focus so i could finally give you what you've been craving.”
his hand slides up your spine from your hip, gripping your neck firmly enough to let you know he means business. “i’m not going to repeat myself y/n, stop fucking moving.” his other hand comes up to slap lightly against your ass after retreating from the keyboard, leaving a warm imprint on your skin before he pushes your chest further to his desk and continues to play his game. gasp!
geto’s dominant grip on your hips and neck sends shivers down your spine, your body responding instinctively to his commanding touch. the sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp and gasp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of having your bare bottom exposed to him.
despite his warnings, you can’t help but subtly rock your hips, seeking friction against his thick length still buried deep within you. your upper teeth sinking lowered on your lower lips, a subtle way to hide the desperate moaning. your breath hitches as he pushes you harder against the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body beneath you.
as geto focuses back on his game, you find yourself leaning forward more— your nipples touching the cold surface making you shiver, bracing your hands on the edge of the desk under you. this position allows you to sink deeper onto his cock, your inner walls clenching reflexively around him.
with each subtle roll of your hips, geto lets out a low groan, his focus waverting from his game momentarily. he pulls you closer, forcing his cock deeper inside you until you feel every inch of him pressing against your most sensitive spots.
“fucking hell, y/n...” he curses under his breath, trying to maintain some semblance of control. but it’s clear that he’s losing the battle against both his own desires and yours, even against his own stupid games. he smacks your ass again, this time harder, leaving a bright red mark on your flesh.
“be still!” he demands, his voice laced with both frustration and lust. his fingers dig into your neck, applying pressure just shy of pain. the smack on your ass sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching back against him instinctively. the mix of pain and pleasure leaves you panting, your pussy clamping down on his cock as if begging for more.
despite his command, you can’t seem to obey. instead, you press your breasts further into the desk, enjoying the sensation of your hardened nipples rubbing against the cool surface. each movement sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying the ache building between your legs.
“suguru... please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whimper. the desperation in your tone is undeniably begging. geto’s grip on your neck tightens, his thumb brushing over your pulse point rhythmically as he fights against the urge to simply throw caution to the wind and claim you right then and there. instead, he focuses back on his game, cursing loudly when his character takes another hit.
“shit... y/n, shut up before i really lose my shit,” he growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust of his hips. his cock surges deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids. his other hand losing the touch of his keyboard for a beat to sending a slaps down on your ass again, this time in slow deliberate strokes meant to draw out your pleasure. he’s punishing you for making him lose focus, but also rewarding you for being such a tease.
geto’s punishing thrusts send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your nails digging into the desktop as you struggle to hold back cries of pleasure. the slow, deliberate slaps on your ass echo through the room, each impact sending tingles racing up your spine.
“ahh!” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your pleas growing more desperate as the coil of tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. the combination of his thick cock stretching you open and the relentless stimulation to your sensitive ass has you teetering on the brink of climax. you can feel the telltale fluttering in your core, signaling your impending release.
geto’s jaw clenches as he battles to keep his composure, refusing to let go and indulge in the sweet release that beckons him. his fingers waltz down from your neck to the curve of your hip, tightening on the soft flesh, his grip bordering on bruising as he holds you in place, denying you the friction you crave.
“not yet, y/n... you don’t get to come until i say so,” he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. his hips buck upward sharply, burying himself to the hilt inside you for the countless times and grinding against your clit with a forceful thrust.
he repeats this motion several times, using your body for his own pleasure, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with brutal intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled moans and his guttural groans.
the rough treatment only fuels your desire, pushing you closer to the edge with each powerful thrust. your pussy clamps down on his cock, milking him for more as you ride the wave of pleasure he’s forcing upon you. the way you roll your hips like you are either desperately looking for the climax you’ve been craving for the past hours, trying to get revenge for keeping you waiting, or just simply trying to suck his soul— geto are fine either way.
“pleaseee. . . sugu’—’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, the words trailing off into a series of whimpers. your inner walls clench and flutter around his cock, pulsing with the intensity wanting of your release, “please, ’m sorry,” you cry. your body convulses, each tremor rippling through you as you cling desperately to the desk.
geto grunts, feeling your walls clamp around him, urging him towards his own climax. but he refuses to give in just yet, determined to make you pay for distracting him with your teasing. “not good enough... beg properly,” he commands, his voice a low growl. he slams into you again, driving his cock even deeper than before, stretching your inner walls to their limit— kissing your cervix each time. his hand moves from your hip to your dripping cunt, his fingers delving into your wetness, stroking at your swollen clit.
he keeps up this merciless pace, alternating between hard thrusts and swift withdrawals, driving you to the brink of madness. your pleas become more frantic, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. “please— let me cum, i need to...” you gasp out, your voice hitching on each word as you fight to maintain coherence.
each stroke of his fingers against your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, amplifying the ache in your core. the combination of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers working your clit has you teetering on the precipice of obliviation.
“i’m sorry, i’m sooo sorry— pleasee...” you sob, your plea turning into a keening wail as you about to reach your pea only for geto to lift you up off his cock before slamming back into your pussy— playing with your climax and just generically being an asshole.
geto leans over you, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers darkly, “not yet... not till you learn your lesson.” with each thrust, he aims to prove his dominance, showing no mercy as he punishes you for your disobedience. his fingers never relent from their torment of your clit, adding fuel to the fire that’s consuming you from within.
he reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. the sharp pinch sends an unexpected surge of pleasure coursing through you, making your back arch off the desk and the game long forgotten.
“beg better...” he taunts, knowing full well that he’s playing with fire. without saying a word to his friends, geto left his game to open his computer camera. he grab a fistful of your hair to pull your face away from the desk. a soft light illuminating your face. geto smile to his camera as he saw your fucked-face, ruined by your tears and your mascara.
he pulls you closer until your back touches his sweaty chest before snake his arm under your thighs and opens your legs wider to his camera. “say hi, to the camera y/n,” he whisper in your ear as he rest his chin on shoulder. your breath comes in short gasps, each thrust of his cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. the split pinch on your nipple only adds to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
you whimper, your voice choked with unshed tears. the sight of his hand gripping your hair tightly sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you who’s in control. with the way he pressing your back against his chest, knees straight glue to your chest, you can’t help but squirm on top of him. his heavy breathing in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours—it’s all too much.
“hi. . .” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible. the words are directed towards the camera, but they’re laced with desperation and pleading.
geto chuckles, dark and mocking, at your feeble attempt to address the camera, his amusement evident in the way he tightens his grip on your hair. he increases the tempo of his thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless efficiency— visible to the camera of his computer.
“that’s iiiit... look pretty while you’re getting fucked,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends chills down your spine. he watches you through the screen, purple eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he observes your reactions. his free hand trails down your body, exploring every curve and crevice with possessive intent. he cups your breast, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it hard enough to leave a red print on your skin.
“still think you can distract me?” he asks, his tone laced with challenge.
your body quivers under the onslaught of sensations, each thrust of his cock sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of his thrusts. “n-no—can’t, i won’t,” you stammer out, your voice choked with emotion. the sting of his slap on your breast makes you flinch, but it also intensifies the heat coiling in your lower belly. despite the pain and humiliation, you find yourself pushed closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasmic bliss.
geto smirks at your admission, pleased with the submission in your voice. he drives into you harder, relentlessly in his pursuit of your pleasure—and your punishment. “mmm, good girl... now cum for me,” he orders, his voice a seductive mix of command and promise. he lets go of your hair to grasp your throat, applying just enough pressure to ensure your attention remains focused on him and nothing else.
the hand that had been smacking your breasts now finds its way between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit while still keeping a firm hold on your throat. he watches intently, observing how your face contorts in pleasure, enjoying the sight of you succumbing to his will.
“let me hear it... let me hear how good it feels when i fuck you senseless,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “come on baby, i know you are dirty girl.” your entire being focuses on the sensation of his cock plunging into you, each thrust hitting spots inside you that send waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the pressure on your throat and the stimulation of your clit combine to push you closer to the edge.
a strangled moan escapes your lips, your voice breaking as you try to comply with his demand. “it- it feels so good— so fucking good...” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and whimpers. your pussy clenches around his cock, desperate for release as you cling to the last threads of sanity.
geto grins at your words, satisfaction washing over him as he feels your pussy tightening around his throbbing member. he tightens his grip on your throat slightly, forcing a choked cry from your lips.
“that’s it... that’s my good girl,” he praises, his voice a deep rumble of approval. he quickens his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful and deliberate. the sound of your moans and the sight of your flushed face spur him on further. he wants to see you unravel, to witness the moment when pleasure overtakes reason. “cum for me... show me what a fucking mess i’ve made of you,” he grunts, his fingers rubbing furiously against your clit, eager to draw out your climax.
your body trembles on the brink of release, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive clit sends you spiraling into oblivion. you throw your head back to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you feel your toes curling and your legs shaking in the air. stars running around behind your eyelids and burst into fireworks.
a loud cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body. your limbs feel weak, your mind foggy as you ride out the intensity of your climax.
“oh god, oh godddd...” you whimper, your body wracked with sobs as you struggle to regain control as geto watches you through his screen. geto relishes the feeling of your cum spasming around his cock, begging to milk him dry and sucking his cum out, and paint your velvet walls white. he lets out a low groan, his own climax building rapidly.
he continues to rub your clit mercilessly, determined to prolong your pleasure even as he approaches his own peak. his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to breathe raggedly. “look at you... crying and coming like a fucking whore,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. he gives one final, deep thrust, burying himself completely inside you as he releases his seed deep within your womb.
your body continues to convulse with aftershocks of pleasure, your cunt still clamping sporadically around his cock. the sensation of his hot cum filling you up pushes you over the edge once more, another wave of ecstasy washing over you. through tear-filled eyes, you gaze up at the screen, meeting geto’s intense purple stare. your mouth hangs open just a wee, panting heavily as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, your voice hoarse from crying out during your orgasms. your arms fall limply to your sides, unable to support your weight any longer. you’re utterly spent, drained of all energy and willpower, finally. all you can do is sit there on his lap, impaled on his cock, as he fills you with his essence.
geto watches you intently, drinking in the sight of your ravaged expression and trembling form. he keeps his cock buried deep inside you, relishing the feeling of his cum slowly leaking out of your used hole.
he finally releases your throat, his hands moving to cup your breasts instead, squeezing them gently as if testing their weight. he strokes your nipples with his thumbs, teasing them back to hardness. “such a beautiful mess,” he whispers, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction. he reaches up to gently wipe away some of the tears trailing down your cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender given the rough sex you just endured.
once he’s satisfied with your appearance, he leans back in his chair, pulling you against his chest as he cradles you in his strong arms. he strokes your hair soothingly, humming a soft melody that seems to vibrate through his body and into yours.
“so beautiful,” he coos, his voice a warm caress against your ear, eyes meeting yours in the land of his screen. “shame we’re only roommate,” he smiling softly before kissing your forehead. your body molds against his, seeking comfort and reassurance after the intense session. struggling the way your body trembling, with the energy left you move to face him, nuzzle into his neck and curl up on his lap, breathing in his scent as you slowly come down from the high of your multiple orgasms.
you let out a soft sigh, your breath tickling his skin. despite the tenderness of the moment, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at his words. as much as you crave his touch and desire him intensely, you know that this is all it can ever be—a secret tryst between roommates.
“yeah, what a shame,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. you trail off, not daring to finish the thought aloud. you know it would be futile to hope for more, to dream of a future where suguru could be yours openly and without shame. geto holds you close, his arms encircling your waist possessively. he tilts your chin up with one finger, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
“don’t look so sad, kitten,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “we have this, don’t we? these moments, just you and me...” he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of you. when he finally pulls away, you’re both left panting softly.
“i know it’s not ideal,” he admits, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it? at least we can have this... this connection.” he smiles ruefully, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “and who knows?”
you nod slowly, trying to convince yourself that yes, this is enough. it’s not ideal, but it’s something—something real and raw and incredibly satisfying. you capture his hand and press it against your cheek, holding it there as you gaze into his eyes. “yeah, whatever,” you agree softly.
you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before releasing his hand. you snuggle back into his embrace, feeling contented and oddly fulfilled. maybe this was all you needed after all—to share these stolen moments with geto, to experience the depth of emotion and physical intimacy that he alone could provide.
geto’s smile widens at your acceptance, relief washing over him with hummed followed along after. he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you flush against his muscular frame. “whatever indeed,” he chuckles, the vibrations of his laughter resonating through your body. he nuzzles your hair affectionately, inhaling your scent deeply.
“i’m glad we understand each other, kitten,” he says softly, his voice tinged with warmth. “now, how about we take a nap? i think we’ve earned it after that intense session.” he settles back in his chair, cradling you in his lap as he reclines comfortably. his cock, still semi-hard, presses against your ass, a constant reminder of your recent activities.
“just rest here with me,” he whispers, stroking your back soothingly. “let’s recharge our batteries for the next time.” geto grins, a devilish glint in his purple eyes. “what a sweet shit-talker,” you mutter, too tired or maybe too much of a coward to say it out loud.
the soft insult making the raven-haired man snort, “well, aren’t you a cynic?” his hand moves to stroke your hair, his touch gentle yet firm. “but hey, even the biggest cynics need a little sweetness now and then, right?” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “and besides, i’m just looking out for my favorite roommate.” he winks, his smirk playful yet dangerous.
you roll your eyes, attempting to put up a facade of indifference, but you can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “oh, so i’m your favorite, huh?” you retort weakly, leaning into his touch. “i must be so honored.”
he lets out another of those low laughs, the sound sending a shiver through you. “oh, you should be,” he says, his voice lilting with playful arrogance. “i don’t just let anyone sit on my lap, you know. you should count yourself lucky, sweetheart.”
you let yourself relax in his embrace, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a comforting blanket. his hands continue their soothing motions, roaming over your back and hair, lulling you into a state of blissful contentment. despite your exhaustion, a cheeky thought crosses your mind as you snuggle closer to him.
“favorite roommate, huh?” you tease, your voice low and sultry. “i thought i was your only roommate.”
geto chuckles once again, his chest rumbling against yours. “ah, semantics,” he replies, his voice a mix of amusement and feigned nonchalance. “details, details. my favorite… my only… same difference, really.” he pulls you even closer, his arms encircling you like a warm, muscular embrace. “besides,” he murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. “you're the only roommate i need.”
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his chest rumbling with his quiet chuckle, his voice laced with that familiar mix of amusement and teasing. his arms tightened around you, drawing you closer until there was hardly any space between you, his embrace both comforting and exhilarating.
as his lips found that sensitive spot on your neck, a soft sigh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch, letting your fingers trail gently along his shoulder. the way he held you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, everything felt like second nature, the kind of closeness that only he could bring.
snuggling closer, you let out a quiet laugh, your eyes half-closed as you nestled against him. “cheeky bastard,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you relaxed into his arms. his warmth enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, letting the moment wrap around you like a gentle haze.
his lips curved into a smirk against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back. “damn right i am,” he replied, his voice low and amused. he shifted in his chair, his muscular arms flexing as he pulled you even closer. you were practically pressed flush against him now, the heat of his body seeping through your skin, a comforting and exciting presence.
geto hums, a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest. his fingers continue their gentle, soothing motions, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. “but i prefer the term ‘charming, irresistible bastard,’ thank you very much,” he replies jokingly. “and besides, you like it when i’m cheeky.”
a laugh escapes you as his words sink in, a warm, playful sound that melts into the air around you. “i don’t know where you got that idea,” you reply, your voice light with mock indignation. “i never said i liked it when you’re cheeky.”
but even as you deny it, your arms find their way around his bare waist, pulling yourself closer, and you can feel his warmth seeping into you, steady and grounding. the rhythmic beat of his heart thumps under your ear, a soothing lull that makes the rest of the world feel like it’s melting away.
with a soft, relieved sigh, you let yourself relax into him, the tension slowly leaving your body as you settle in his embrace. it’s moments like this—his warmth, his quiet hum, the way his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back—that remind you of how safe and at home you feel with him.
geto's lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he feels you relax against him, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. his arms wrap even tighter around you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.
“mmm,” he murmurs, the sound of a low vibration in his chest. “deny it all you want, sweetheart. but we both know you secretly find my cheeky behavior adorable,” he punctuates his words with a light nip at your neck, a teasing gesture that sends a shiver through you.
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